MAIN GOAL ⫻ What does your character hope to accomplish in life?

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ How do they see the world? What beliefs drive them?

SECRETS ⫻ What are they hiding from others?

SEXUALITY ⫻ Who are they attracted to?

FEARS ⫻ What do they fear—emotionally, spiritually, or physically?

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ What was their status in their original universe? Are they well-known, feared, respected, or overlooked?

FLAWS ⫻ What personal flaws or vices make things harder for them or others?

Your character’s background. What shaped them? Who were they before waking up here? Focus on the relevant and compelling beats.

TYPE ⫻ (Put Adept, Apparition, Aberration (Afflicted/Agent/Adjoined/Abscised/Abominable), Blind or Aware)

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Name of the Abstraction (or Lux type + Channeler for Adepts), plus a one-sentence summary of what it does.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Detailed breakdown of abilities. If Adept, list spells + how the channeler works. If Aberration, describe how the Abstraction works through them. Leave no surprises.

LIMITS ⫻ What can’t it do? List restrictions, cooldowns, energy costs, emotional constraints, etc.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ (DO NOT FILL THIS OUT, I WILL PROVIDE IT FOR YOU)

Anyyyything else?

Coming soon...

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Kari’s main goal is to keep those around her safe and connected long enough to understand what’s happening to Cornell. She thinks that panic and isolation are just as dangerous as the threat itself, and losing each other would ruin any chance of surviving what’s coming. She doesn’t see herself as a leader or a hero and isn’t interested in being heroic. Instead, she seeks stability-time to observe, listen, gather information, and understand the fractures before they worsen. If everything can pause briefly, she believes there might still be solutions.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Kari believes that problems become more dangerous when people face them alone. For her, isolation allows fear, misunderstanding, and panic to worsen. She values listening over arguing, awareness over reacting, and shared understanding over force or authority. Kari genuinely believes that most people mean well, even when they make mistakes, and that, given the chance to be heard and understood, they can choose to improve. This belief influences her approach to conflict—she seeks common ground first, assumes misunderstanding rather than malice, and trusts that empathy can calm situations before they escalate. If something is falling apart—whether it’s a friendship, a group, or the town itself—Kari believes the first step isn’t fixing or fighting but paying attention: noticing what’s wrong, who’s hurt, and what’s being ignored. She hasn’t yet learned that understanding doesn’t always lead to change, but she still holds onto the idea that connection can make a difference.

SECRETS ⫻ Kari minimizes the impact of the warehouse incident on her. She doesn’t reveal how often she replays it, how much she notices now, or how afraid she is of overlooking something important. Additionally, she mostly keeps the full extent of her perceptions to herself through White Lux, unsure of how others might react if they knew how much she perceives.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Kari is still exploring her identity. She hasn't labeled herself and isn't in a hurry to do so. To her, emotional bonds are more important than physical attraction, and she prefers to observe relationships rather than actively seek one.

FEARS ⫻ Kari’s fears are rooted not in monsters or violence, but in hindsight. She fears the quiet moment after a disaster when she realizes the warning signs were always there, but she didn’t understand them in time. The thought that neglecting a change in tone, missing a detail, or noticing a crack beneath routine could cause someone to be hurt keeps her awake longer than any nightmare. She also dreads the burden she constantly inherits—listening, connecting people, holding fragile truths just long enough for others to survive. Her greatest fear is not failing outright, but doing everything right and still witnessing it fall apart, proving that awareness alone isn’t enough. As she learns more, she worries she will become hollow—losing her identity and becoming only a vessel for information, memories, and warning signs. Beneath all this is her deep, unspoken fear that Cornell is already too broken—that her efforts merely buy time and delay inevitable collapse, stretching moments of stability in a town destined to fracture again.

REPUTATION ⫻ Regarded as kind, calm, and reliable, she is trusted by many and sought out when they feel overwhelmed or fearful. Some see her as “the grounding one,” though others misjudge her gentleness as passivity.

FLAWS ⫻ Kari’s flaws stem not from malice or weakness but from her quiet tendency to take on emotional burdens that aren't hers. From early on, she instinctively absorbs others' tension, guilt, and fear, believing that understanding everyone can prevent problems. This makes her very conflict-averse; she hesitates to confront, often choosing silence or mediation over making tough decisions, even when delays cause harm. She struggles to balance her needs with others’, often viewing her feelings as secondary or burdensome, which gradually diminishes her sense of self without her noticing. Though capable and perceptive, Kari doubts her judgment unless she has all the facts, and her need for complete understanding can freeze her in critical moments. Beneath her optimistic exterior is an early, unformed guilt—a fear of mistakes and missing important details—that leads her to second-guess herself and retreat rather than risk irreversible choices. These flaws make her human, not uncaring, and mark the beginning of a journey where learning when to act, let go, or protect herself becomes as vital as her desire to shield others.

Kari Wilson was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where she spent her early childhood in a busy, tightly packed neighborhood, full of noise, movement, and constant background tension. Her parents loved the city, but as Kari grew, they began to worry it was overwhelming her-too loud, too fast, too heavy for a girl who preferred stillness and stories. When she was young, they decided to move her to a quieter place, hoping it would be better for her. That place was Cornell, Pennsylvania.

Kari adjusted gradually. Cornell felt smaller in every way than Philadelphia, fewer people, fewer hidden corners-but it gave her space to breathe. Even before the move, she had been a bookworm, carrying novels everywhere and getting lost in them. Stories were her sanctuary. She didn’t just read them; she lived inside them, imagining entire worlds and how they might play out on screen or in books. She filled notebooks with ideas, characters, and half-finished plots, not because anyone asked, but because it felt natural.

Introverted by nature, Kari didn’t mind being alone. Making friends wasn’t a priority; she was content with her thoughts, her writing, and her routines. Still, one constant accompanied her through every stage: Elsa Conner. Whether Kari wanted to socialize or not, Elsa had a way of pulling her into conversations, gatherings, and situations she wouldn’t have chosen herself. Somehow, it always worked out.

Though reluctant to leave her comfort zone, Kari often went along with Elsa to make her happy. Their friendship was effortless, built on trust, shared memories, and an unspoken understanding of each other’s limits. Elsa brought energy and motion into Kari’s life, while Kari kept Elsa grounded, helping her pause and think before acting on impulse. They complemented each other naturally.

Now sixteen, Kari is still discovering who she is at Cornell. She’s gentle, observant, and emotionally open, often unknowingly becoming someone others rely on. She doesn’t see herself as extraordinary-just someone trying to understand the world, one story, sketch, or conversation at a time. Whatever the future holds, she remains unbroken. For now, this is where her journey begins.

The warehouse party should have been a night of escape, but it became something else entirely. Kari stayed near the edges, sober enough to notice everything. She moved between groups, checking on friends, quieting arguments, making sure no one got lost in the chaos. Even before the first scream, something felt off in the air around a drunk boy stumbling in shimmered unnaturally, thin and wrong.

When the tear opened, chaos erupted. Bodies tumbled, screams cut off abruptly, concrete cracked, blood spilled. For a heartbeat, Kari froze-not from fear, but from disbelief. Then, instinct took over. She shouted instructions, pulled people out of danger, and kept them together as best she could. She couldn’t fight the monster, but she could guide her friends-and that mattered.

And in the middle of panic, smoke, and confusion, something inside her snapped. White Lux threaded through her mind like a calm pulse, steadying her senses rather than overwhelming them. When the presence intervened and the creature fled, Kari was still kneeling beside someone unresponsive, hands trembling, mind racing, trying to understand a world torn apart.

The terror didn’t end when the sirens arrived. It followed her home, into her sleep. In the weeks afterward, as Cornell began to warp in disturbing ways, Kari noticed patterns others dismissed. Roads looping unnaturally, reflections lagging, fragments of the warehouse replaying in shared dreams. Using White Lux, she cautiously experimented, tracking portals, mapping street shifts, detecting monsters slipping through cracks, and sensing tension and fear in others. Each attempt taught her the limits of her perception and the subtle ways she could influence understanding, without ever casting a spell or striking out.

Kari never set out to lead. She just started talking, checking on people, and making connections. During moments of tension or rising panic, she stepped in-not with answers, but with calm. She suggested meetings to share what they saw and compare notes. Someone had to prevent isolation fueled by fear. Without realizing it, Kari assumed that role. Cornell was no longer just her home-it was fragile, bleeding, and somehow, it seemed to be asking her for help.

She’s only sixteen. She’s still scared. But now she knows: whatever broke Cornell, whatever pushes at its seams, can’t be fixed by running or denial. Someone must gather the pieces, listen, and hold others long enough to figure out what comes next.

And for better or worse, that someone is Kari.

TYPE ⫻ Adept.

ABSTRACTION ⫻ White Lux. Her Channeler is her friendship bracelet with Elsa.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻



LIMITS ⫻ The warning has limitations in both range and clarity. Kari can only detect danger within a few dozen feet, and her sensation is vague-she might sense something’s wrong without knowing if it’s a falling object, a collapsing floor, or something supernatural. The warning’s effectiveness depends heavily on her focus: if she’s panicked, distracted, or exhausted, she might miss it. The strength of the psychic distortion doesn’t correspond to the level of danger; minor threats can seem as urgent as major ones, making it hard to judge how immediate the threat is.

Boundary Disturbance is closely linked to Cornell itself, and it fails completely outside the town or in areas where the town’s structure is weak or unstable. Kari senses that something has crossed into the town, but she can’t identify what it is, how strong it is, or exactly where it entered. This feeling is fleeting, often lasting only seconds and requiring quiet attention—if she’s talking or in a crowded area, she might miss it. Multiple disturbances can overwhelm her, blurring signals into a single, vague sense of unease.

Emotional Thread relies on her focus and the strength of her bond. She can’t maintain connections with many people at once, and the farther they are, the weaker the impression. Strong emotions like panic, grief, or anger can distort her perception, making it hard to distinguish location from mood. If she’s emotionally unstable, tired, or stressed, the thread can break, leaving her unable to perceive the person. It only conveys a general sense of presence and emotional state, not specific actions or thoughts.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Every time Kari tunes into a danger perception, it leaves a psychic residue. The intrusion of the distortion doesn’t just vanish—it scrapes at her mind, leaving headaches, nausea, or a faint ringing in her thoughts that can last minutes to hours. If she overuses it, her focus frays, and she can misinterpret ordinary occurrences as threats, creating stress and paranoia. There’s also an emotional toll: the warnings make her hyperaware of suffering and fear in others nearby, which can spiral into anxiety she can’t switch off. The sensation can be maddeningly vague, forcing her to act on instinct alone; when she guesses wrong, guilt gnaws at her—she feels responsible even when there’s nothing she could have done.

Sensing fractures in Cornell isn’t just tiring—it’s physically and mentally destabilizing. Each breach she perceives leaves her disoriented: her limbs feel heavy, her balance wavers, and her head spins like a compass gone haywire. If multiple disturbances occur, the signals clash and overlap, causing a psychic noise that can make her nauseous, dizzy, or even faint. Long exposure can trigger tremors, blurred vision, or a sense of the ground tilting beneath her. It’s emotionally draining too; she can feel the town’s fear, frustration, and tension as if it were her own, leaving her emotionally raw. Prolonged use risks lingering dissociation—moments where she loses awareness of her own body or surroundings.

Focusing on someone else’s emotional state comes with a cost: Kari feels what they feel, amplified through her own mind. Panic, grief, or rage don’t just register—they echo in her own consciousness. If the person is far away or deeply distressed, the effect can overwhelm her, leaving her crying, shaking, or unable to focus on anything else. Misreading a signal can make her reach out when it isn’t wanted, creating tension or panic in both her and the other person. Overuse can leave her exhausted, emotionally flattened, or feeling as though her own identity is dissolving into the network of connections she maintains.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Isabelle’s primary aim is to survive on her own terms. She seeks to understand what D’rryha has transformed her into, how long she can sustain this state, and if she still retains any agency. Her focus isn’t on rescuing Cornell or solving the bigger issue; it's on remaining functional, unnoticed, and in control just long enough to choose her next move.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Isabelle holds that the world rewards awareness rather than innocence or good intentions. Although being cautious didn’t prevent her from danger, it kept her alive until something else intervened, which she considers an important distinction. She doesn’t seek comfort or reassurances that things will turn out fine. To her, hope is only valuable when supported by preparation. She relies on her ability to observe, anticipate, and control, preferring decisive action over emotional reactions. If she senses something is wrong, she assumes it is and adjusts before proof is needed. Since waking up, she sees safety not as a constant but as a fleeting condition that can disappear unexpectedly. Consequently, she moves through life with quiet vigilance, not paranoia, believing that staying alert is the best form of protection.

SECRETS ⫻ Isabelle conceals the severity of her condition. She doesn’t disclose that she was aware in parts during her repair or that she occasionally senses D’rryha altering her body without permission. She also remains silent about her initial lack of fear upon waking—only experiencing clarity. A part of her fears that sharing too much might label her as a problem to be fixed—or erased.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Isabelle has little interest in romance right now. Attraction exists, but it feels distant and secondary to survival. Physical intimacy is complicated by her altered body and her uncertainty about what she is now. She doesn’t label herself and doesn’t feel pressured to—connection matters more than category, but even connection feels risky.

FEARS ⫻ Her biggest fear isn't death but losing her autonomy. She worries about becoming just a vessel, a tool, or an unimaginative thing that continues without free will. She also fears being exposed before she fully understands herself and worries about what others might do if they find out she survived when she was not supposed to. At her core, she fears that being abandoned for dead wasn’t an accident but a glimpse of what’s to come.

REPUTATION ⫻ Prior to the warehouse incident, Isabelle was regarded as composed, dependable, and quietly competent. Currently, she is only present in rumors-another girl lost in Cornell’s turmoil. If she reappears, she might be perceived as disturbing rather than comforting, someone unfamiliar to the community.

FLAWS ⫻ Isabelle tends to be emotionally reserved and slow to trust, not out of cruelty but as a form of self-protection. Her survival through difficult experiences has taught her that visibility can be dangerous, so she keeps her thoughts, pain, and doubts tightly guarded. She believes that silence is safer than vulnerability and that being understood might give others leverage over her. Her desire for control is almost rigid—she plans, anticipates, and prepares obsessively because uncertainty terrifies her. This fear is not abstract but rooted in the belief that an uncertain moment could be fatal. Trusting others to act correctly feels like gambling with her life, so even when cooperation could help, she hesitates to rely on anyone. When things spiral beyond her control, she retreats into observation and logic, becoming distant and hyper-focused to avoid emotional overwhelm. She also struggles with detachment—once a person, place, or situation feels compromised, it’s easier for her to let go than to fight for it, driven not by indifference but by fear that holding on makes loss worse. This can lead to a calmness that others may find unnerving, where she might cling or beg. Beneath this is a network of quieter fears: dependence on D’rryha, the slow erosion of her independence, waking one day to realize her instincts are no longer her own, and the unsettling possibility that survival has trapped her in a half-life, where she no longer feels fully part of the living. She fears connection because it raises stakes, fears being seen too clearly or exploited once others understand her, and fears that when she should fight hardest to stay against death, loss, or disappearance, she might lose the will to do so.

Isabelle was born in Oakland, California, and grew up in a lively neighborhood filled with noise, movement, and constant activity. From an early age, she learned to read a space before entering it, realizing that awareness mattered more than volume. Her confidence grew not through assertion but through understanding others-how they moved, when they lied, and what they avoided saying. At ten, her family moved to Cornell, Pennsylvania, for her father’s job. The shift was noticeable: a quieter, smaller town with no hiding places like California. Isabelle adapted quickly and quietly, learning the town’s rhythms and people with patient attention. She didn’t rush to fit in, but didn’t feel out of place either.

In her early teens, she stayed in a balanced middle ground, present but not loud, respected without craving admiration. Her calm demeanor and careful movements made her noticeable even when quiet. She gravitated toward activities requiring precision, physical training, and routine. Her friendships were deliberate, valuing trust and depth over social superficiality.

The warehouse party was meant to be temporary-something to observe and leave behind. Isabelle stayed alert, avoiding chaos, always watching exits. When the tear appeared, all that changed. The violence was sudden and confusing. She was among the first injured, struck down, and thrown into the woods amid the panic.

She was missing for weeks. Police searched the area, and search parties followed fruitless trails. Flyers circulated, and rumors spread. As instability grew, Cornell’s efforts quietly failed. Disappearing people, warped streets, and rising fear made her just another unsolved case. Eventually, the searches ceased.

While the town moved on, Isabelle did not. Her body was hidden in the woods, barely intact, while the Spider Parasite D’rryha orked silently. It did not revive her quickly but preserved her, stitching torn tissues, reinforcing shattered parts, and keeping her in a state of forced stasis. She remained in a coma, suspended between death and awareness, her body slowly rebuilt by this entity that refused to let her go.

Shortly before the story begins, the process finished. Isabelle woke, not to return fully but to resume her life, her body sustained by D’rryha’s presence, her existence no longer entirely human. She retains fragments of memory: pressure instead of pain, time passing without sensation, a feeling of being held together rather than healed. Now awake, she moves cautiously, recognizing that survival came at a cost she does not yet fully understand.

Officially, Isabelle Morgan-Sato remains missing. In truth, she’s back—quiet, changed, tethered to something that kept her alive when the world believed she was gone.

TYPE ⫻ Aberration (Abominable).

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Abomination of Threads, Isabelle shares her body with a parasitic Abominable, transforming her into a semi-undead being capable of rapid regeneration and sprouting spider-like limbs at will.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Isabelle’s body is no longer sustained by biological processes but by the Spider Parasite, D’rryha, which inhabits her from within. She has no heartbeat, no body heat, and her skin is perpetually cool to the touch. Up close, she carries a faint scent of decay, something most people can’t immediately place but instinctively find unsettling. Her breathing is shallow and unnecessary; her body conserving itself rather than living in the conventional sense.

When Isabelle takes damage, her body does not react with pain or panic as a living person would. Instead, D’rryha responds automatically. Swarms of small spiders erupt from beneath her skin, converging on the wound with disturbing speed. These spiders stitch torn flesh, reinforce cracked bone, and seal ruptured organs with silk and organic matter drawn from Isabelle’s altered body. Blood does not flow freely; what escapes is black, thick, and sluggish. As repairs are completed, the spiders are dissolved, leaving skin that closes too cleanly, sometimes without scars at all, as if the injury never truly belonged to her.

This regeneration is effective but unnatural. Repeated damage and repair leave Isabelle feeling hollow or disconnected, as though parts of her are being replaced faster than she can recognize as her own. After extensive reconstruction, she may experience moments of dissociation—moving normally while feeling estranged from her body, her reflection unfamiliar, her sense of self dulled. The repairs preserve function, not comfort. At D’rryha’s will, massive spider legs can force their way out of Isabelle’s body. These limbs are bladed at the ends, capable of slashing through flesh with enough force to be lethal at close range. They allow her to climb walls, ceilings, and vertical surfaces with ease, anchoring into structures like living grappling hooks.

Beyond physical abilities, the world reacts to her differently. Animals sense something wrong—dogs grow uneasy, refuse to approach, or bare their teeth; insects scatter instinctively. Spiders, however, behave unnaturally around her, gathering nearby without fear, drawn to her presence as if recognizing a shared nature. Isabelle does not command them consciously, but they respond to D’rryha’s influence nonetheless.

Despite everything, Isabelle remains conscious and autonomous-for now. D’rryha repairs, reinforces, and preserves her body without always asking permission, and she can feel it working beneath her skin even when she is unharmed. Survival is no longer a question of endurance but of identity: how much of her can be replaced before she stops recognizing what’s left as herself.

LIMITS ⫻ D’rryha is inherently parasitic, requiring Isabelle to regularly consume organic matter to keep it alive. Without nourishment, its regenerative abilities slow, leaving injuries unhealed and spider limbs sluggish or immobile. Starvation also heightens D’rryha’s control over her behavior, steering her toward predatory actions. Control over D’rryha is limited. While Isabelle can trigger or suppress some functions, the Abomination can override her will if it detects a threat or requires repairs. This can lead her to act dangerously or inappropriately without awareness. D’rryha needs an almost intact body to function effectively. Complete destruction of limbs or vital organs hampers repair or forces suboptimal tissue reconstruction. Though regeneration is rapid, it’s not instant; extensive or repeated injuries can outpace its healing, making her vulnerable until D’rryha catches up. The swarm also has coordination limits—multiple simultaneous injuries can reduce efficiency or temporarily leave some wounds unhealed.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Extensive use of her spider limbs or rapid regeneration leads to fatigue. While Isabelle does not experience typical pain, overuse can impair motor control, slow reflexes, and induce dissociative episodes. The more D’rryha repairs and alters her body, the more her sense of self feels hollow; extended regeneration or limb use intensifies confusion, dissociation, and intrusive thoughts. D’rryha is vulnerable to extreme environmental conditions. Severe cold, heat, or corrosive substances can slow or temporarily disrupt the swarm’s regenerative functions. Certain chemicals or fire may temporarily neutralize its activity. Likewise, pathogens and magical toxins can interfere with its healing ability, leaving Isabelle exposed. Visible signs such as black blood, spider limbs, and a faint odor of decay make Isabelle appear alien, restricting her social interactions and freedom of movement. Regular regeneration risks erasing parts of her original tissue and sensory feedback, hastening her identity loss. She cannot perceive all internal processes; D’rryha sustains function but not consciousness, so surprises inside her body are possible. Finally, if she goes too long without nourishment, D’rryha may compel Isabelle to hunt living prey, regardless of her morals, to fulfill its biological needs.

Her presence naturally triggers discomfort in most people. Even those who do not consciously notice her darkened blood, faint smell of decay, or subtle unnatural movements sense something is wrong, prompting them to avoid her or act defensively. Animals nearby become restless or aggressive, while humans tend to recoil, whisper, or keep their distance. This creates difficulties in social interactions, as her attempts to connect are often met with suspicion, fear, or hostility. Over time, this enforced separation increases her isolation, making Isabelle depend on stealth, observation, or cautious manipulation to interact safely. Even allies may struggle to accept her altered appearance, leading to tension and fewer opportunities for teamwork.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Lupe aims to survive on her own terms while mastering her Red, Green, and Purple Lux. She is determined to acquire the skills, knowledge, and control necessary to confront and eliminate the monster responsible for her brothers' deaths. Her motivation is fueled by a desire for revenge rather than heroism—seeking justice, closure, and the restoration of her agency in a world that has betrayed her.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Life is a chaotic, cruel, and unpredictable bitch—a spinning wheel where everything you cherish can be taken away in an instant. Happiness, safety, and morality are luxuries, not guarantees. Lupe has experienced everything vanish suddenly and refuses to invest energy in what the world will inevitably seize. Her laughter and cheerful demeanor serve as armor, a mask to navigate a dangerous, untrustworthy universe, concealing a nihilistic understanding that permanence is an illusion and control is fleeting. She prioritizes freedom, agency, and self-determination, manipulating her Magic not for fame but because mastery is the only true safety. She takes what she can, mocks the meaningless, and moves through life like a storm—alive, defiant, and ready to strike back at anything that threatens what she holds.

SECRETS ⫻ Lupe keeps the intensity of her grief hidden beneath her cheerful exterior, as well as her obsessive focus on finding and killing the creature. Few know that her sunny personality is performative—a shield against despair and the emptiness she fears will consume her.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Lupe avoids labels and rules. She’s impulsive and daring, seeking thrills and pleasure from anyone—men, women, or anyone in between. For her, attraction is a spark or distraction, a way to feel alive, not a promise of safety or connection. She finds deep relationships restrictive, especially in a world that has already taken everything she loved. As a result, she flirts with danger, laughter, and lust, keeping intimacy casual and consequences flexible.

FEARS ⫻ Lupe fears being confined by rules, expectations, or any force that restricts her freedom. She dreads feelings of helplessness, the inability to defend herself or others, and the crushing weight of inevitability. Losing control terrifies her more than death itself; chaos feels familiar, but passively enduring it is unbearable. Deep inside, she also fears forgetting her brothers entirely—letting their deaths fade into nothingness—though she hides this pain behind bravado and constant activity.

REPUTATION ⫻ Among peers, Lupe is perceived as lively, fearless, and full of energy—a vibrant presence that’s hard to overlook. Beneath this exterior, she is reserved, strategic, and formidable when pushed. Some view her as reckless; others are attracted to her vitality. However, few genuinely grasp the extent of her loss or the cutting edge that fuels her.

FLAWS ⫻ Lupe is impulsive, reckless, and often acts without fully considering the consequences. Her nihilistic outlook pushes her to take risks, seek danger, and push beyond safe boundaries, while she seldom believes in permanence or order. She struggles with patience, planning ahead, and restraint, favoring immediate action, excitement, or asserting control in the moment. Her cheerful, lively persona is a mask that hides her grief, obsession, and relentless desire for revenge, but it can alienate allies or cause others to misjudge her intentions. She masks pain with laughter, making her vulnerable to sudden emotional outbursts, self-destructive choices, or overreactions when her defenses break down.

Her impulsiveness also affects her about people and relationships: she flirts, teases, and challenges boundaries impulsively, treating intimacy and attraction like games rather than commitments. She finds trust hard to give, and when she does, she may become possessive or manipulative without realizing it. Lupe’s obsession with mastering her Red, Green, and Purple Lux, along with her fixation on hunting the creature that killed her brothers, makes her fixated and sometimes blind to smaller threats or moral considerations. Her sense of self is deeply connected to control and freedom; when these are threatened, she can react unpredictably—lashing out, fleeing, or taking extreme measures to regain autonomy. In essence, she is a volatile storm: exciting, dangerous, and lively, but capable of reckless destruction.

Lupe Sánchez was born in Xalapa, Mexico, as the oldest of three children, with two younger brothers, Diego and Alejandro, whom she fiercely adored. From a young age, she took pride in protecting them, teaching games, smoothing over conflicts, and ensuring they felt safe and acknowledged.

Her family moved to the United States in pursuit of citizenship and new opportunities. Their father joined the Army, leading the family to move frequently from base to base, a life of constant change that Lupe navigated with charm, humor, and energy. Her lively personality eased her transition into new schools and towns, while her Mexican heritage remained a strong anchor for her and her brothers.

Eventually, the Army chapter ended, and the family settled in Cornell, Pennsylvania. Though the town was small, it held many possibilities. Lupe thrived socially, her exuberance brightening classrooms and streets alike. Diego and Alejandro remained her world; she fiercely protected them, laughed with them endlessly, and always hoped they would grow up safe and together.

The warehouse party was lively, music pounding, laughter echoing, and everything feeling normal, just another night. Until a creature tore through reality. The first scream shattered Lupe’s sense of safety. Panic spread rapidly. People fled, stumbling over crates and each other. Lupe’s heart pounded as her instincts urged her to rescue her brothers. As a shadow crossed Diego, his hand slipped from hers; Alejandro cried out, and suddenly everything fractured.

Noise, screams, and the smell of burning metal overwhelmed her senses. She moved instinctively, dodging and ducking, but each turn revealed new horrors, and she couldn’t reach her brothers. Time seemed to slow as terror gripped her; her arms reached out, but they were dead before she could even touch them.

She screamed, begged, and fought, but the monster was too powerful, leaving her helpless in a crumbling world. When the creature moved on, leaving behind wreckage and chaos, silence settled heavily. Lupe stumbled over debris, her heart racing and tears falling. Her brothers were gone, and the world felt unfair and lawless. Part of her wanted to collapse or surrender to the pain, but a strange, fierce heat inside her refused to let her die there. Something had shifted, shaping her into who she was about to become.

Amidst horror, pain, and disbelief, Lupe Kindled. Red, Green, and Purple Lux surged within her, a burst of energy born from grief, rage, and survival instinct. In the days after, while others mourned or moved on, she experimented with her new abilities: creating spells of neon light, fire, & electricity. Her control was initially chaotic and messy, but it made her feel some agency in a world that had just stolen everything.

Her personality changed. She adopted a cheerful, seemingly carefree persona, always laughing, joking, and moving as if dancing through life. It was a mask—her shield and coping mechanism. Beneath, however, a nihilistic core took root: if monsters could destroy her family, if the world offered no protection, then nothing mattered - but she would still fight. She experiments, pushes boundaries, learns her Lux fully, preparing for the day she can confront the creature that took her brothers.

Lupe’s goals are survival and revenge. Beneath her laughter and cheer, she trains, studies, and experiments, honing spells and strategies for the inevitable confrontation.

TYPE ⫻ Adept.

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Red, Green, & Purple Lux. Lupe's Channeler is a neon-pink bandana she wore during the party.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻



LIMITS ⫻ Neon Projection relies entirely on her movement and focus. If Lupe is distracted, exhausted, or restrained, the spells lose efficiency, flicker, or misfire. She cannot cast while unconscious or immobilized, and large-scale sustained attacks quickly drain her stamina. Continuous use of multiple streams or arcs can cause overheating, burns, muscle fatigue, or sensory overload.

Neon-Fire is limited in scope. Flames extend only a few meters from her body and cannot maintain themselves indefinitely—prolonged projection requires her to channel Lux continuously. Neon-Beams are intensely hot but precise, designed for cutting and burning soft materials, not demolishing structures. Long, sustained beams tire her quickly and strain her focus. The beams require a direct line of sight; obstacles, reflections, or smoke can disrupt accuracy. Wide-area effects are limited, and attempting to overload them can backfire, burning her hands or causing temporary blindness from the bright glow.

Neon Electricity arcs have a limited range, generally jumping only a few meters to nearby targets. Conductivity matters—non-conductive surfaces weaken or stop the effect. Repeated or prolonged use risks shorting out small electronics, accidentally electrocuting herself, or temporarily numbing her limbs. High-resistance targets like metal armor or grounded industrial equipment shrug off her electricity, and she cannot generate large-scale storms or sustained currents without overexerting herself to the point of danger.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Every Neon Projection spell produces intense light, which can temporarily blind Lupe, her allies, and enemies during combat. These spells are highly flashy, bright, and loud, with each burst of fire, beam, or electricity capturing attention and revealing her position and intentions. Because of this, she cannot cast them stealthily; enemies can track her simply by following the light or sound. In situations where subtlety is needed, her magic can be a liability rather than an advantage. She must carefully angle the beams and flames to prevent disorientation for herself or her teammates. Overextending the spell by increasing intensity, width, or duration can cause the heat and energy to backfire, injuring her. The combination of vivid light, heat, and electricity can overwhelm her senses, and continuous casting in tight spaces can lead to nausea, headaches, blurred vision, and delayed reactions.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ What's the point in having goals? The moment we're born we're slowly dying anyway. Besides, goals are for people that weren't born in Cornhole, PA.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Shit. It's all shit. Everything's shit.

SECRETS ⫻ She knew her boyfriend's school shooter plan the whole time, and in the case he got caught, she's to go through with the plan instead. She lied to the FBI when they questioned if she knew anything. That was also part of the plan. What wasn't part of the plan was her going off script. She couldn't careless about who her boyfriend wanted to kill

SEXUALITY ⫻ Bisexual. Boys and girls are on her radar.

FEARS ⫻ Fear of dying a violent death. Either at the hands of her mom's shitty boyfriend beating her to death or getting shanked in a prison after she get's caught shooting up the school.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ The daughter of a prostitute. Most people assume she's a whore like her mother. That before she finishes high school, she'll be knocked up by one of many men she's probably sleeping with. That the kid won't know their daddy like she doesn't know hers. Dumbasses love their rumors more than the truth. She's a one boy or girl kinda girl. She don't sleep around. Only ever been with her ex, so if she was knocked up she'd very well know who the daddy was. Girls at school whisper behind her back calling her a 'slut' and a 'whore.' Boys cat-call her and proposition her like it's a funny joke, but she knows if she ever said 'yes' they would jump at the chance.

FLAWS ⫻ She doesn't think before she lashes out half the time. Has a tendency to be violent. The people that get in her way see the worst of her. She's anti-social as hell. Keeps to herself. Treats most people like shit. She's not a joy to be around, but there's nothing joyous about her life that would make her a joy to begin with. She doesn't realize that her ex-boyfriend brought out the worst in her. She wasn't this bad before they started dating. She developed new traits and made ones she already had worse.

The whole town knows how Saylor came to be. Her mom, Erin Bradford, was a wild child. Drank, did drugs, was loose and hard to control. She got knocked up by some man passing through town when she was sixteen. Never knew more than a first name. Didn't get his contact information. It was a night of fun and that was it. Nine months later Saylor was born. Before and after that there were other boys and men Erin had been with, but most of them didn't look like Saylor's father. It wasn't hard to figure out who she had a black child with.

By the time Saylor was three, they were kicked out of her grandparents' home, but never lived on the street for longer than a few days. Erin was good at getting men, but never good ones. Hard to come by good ones in Cornell. She chose the men that would take care of them for a price. That price was her body. She was fine to make that sacrifice, until any of them started wanting too much. Erin would sacrifice a lot for her girl, but never her girl.

They moved from spot to spot all over town. Sometimes in houses, other single level apartments. There was that time they lived in a motel on the outskirts for a few months. Never nothing stable. All the while, Saylor built up a heavy resent for the town, her mom, her life. When she was twelve, her mom found her longest lasting boyfriend, Ronnie. Ronnie was a disabled drunk that got injured on a construction project ten years before. He can't do nothing more demanding than a desk job, but he'd be damned if he ever worked for anyone again. He drank himself something awful. His worker's compensation long ran dry. His disabilities checks were spend on booze as long as Saylor could take what they needed to live in his run down trailer home per month. Which wasn't hard to do. He wrote down all his bank account information. Saylor goes into his account when she's at school, put what they need into her mom's account, and leaves him the rest to drink with. The lack of money for food and threats of going without heat and water put Erin on the streets as a hooker. She'd take the Greyhound to a bigger town or city, spend two nights making money, then would come home on the third day to check in and deposit the money she made.

Being away, meant Erin couldn't protect Saylor like she used to. Saylor learned to take a beating. To be on edge around Ronnie and dodge when he threw things at her. After Erin saw the bruises, she was ready for them to leave, but Saylor was tired of going from place to place. Ronnie was slow most of the time. If she learned to stay out of his way, then she wouldn't get hit. She convinced Erin she would be fine. Fine looked like barricading her door at night, because of the first time he dragged her out of bed to beat her. Fine looked like spending the little money they had to get a cheap used tent from a thrift store to set up in the backyard on nights she heard him ranting and raging outside the trailer before she could walk through the door. Fine looked like dodging a beer bottle the moment she walked through the door after her first date with her only boyfriend.

It was that incident that spiraled her into who she became. Saylor had been a quiet and nice girl. Afraid of her own shadow most days. Tried to stay out of everyone's way to avoid the hate she got for her mom's job. But Jared turned that all around. He was a Junior when she was a Freshman, and an outcast like her. He wore his hate on his sleeve and made sure everyone knew about it. Was quick to want to fight anyone that had shit to say about him. Took a few beatings from the football team for running his mouth. He barely had any friends and wasn't likeable at all, but he was nice to her. He made her feel seen and special the few times they talked, so when he asked her out she said 'yes.'

They went to the library after school on their first date to watch a movie on the public computer. They shared earphones and ate popcorn he had in a Ziplock bag he brought from home. They weren't supposed to be eating in the library, but the youth librarian gave them a pass as long as they cleaned up after themselves. After the movie, he treated her a meal at the local diner. It'd been about day since she last ate. There wasn't any food at home, and she couldn't eat lunch in the cafeteria without it being ruined by the kids that hated her. She'd never been happier to eat in her life.

He walked her home, gave her a kiss on the cheek goodnight, and she walked into her home narrowly avoiding a bottle being thrown at her head. She walked right back out. Jared barely had the chance to leave, before seeing her shaken up and crying. That's the first night she spent at his house. It became a pattern. Her on the days her mom was around, she'd text her if it was a good time to come home or not. If not, she'd hang out with Jared until she got the clear. If so, then she'd hang out with Jared and go home later that night. When her mom wasn't around, she stayed with Jared instead. His parents didn't like their son's girlfriend practically living with them, but they saw the bruises and how skinny she was. She was on her best behavior in their house, so they didn't make too much of a fuss about her.

It's in all this time she spent with Jared that he got her into guns, taught her violence was always the answer, changed her style to reflect his, got her into death metal and metal, and nihilism as a way of thinking. The changes were the most stark at school. She would be attached to Jared's hip as often as she could, even if it meant skipping class. If her bullies had anything to say to her face, she'd hit them first. If they said anything behind her back and she heard about it, then they'd be hearing from her. All that got her was detentions and a suspension that one time she knocked Becky's tooth out. The school was shit and wasn't known for expelling students. Even the problematic ones. Cornell High was more of a daycare to keep the old people from having to deal with idle minds, then an institution that cared to teach them anything.

It was the building chip on her shoulder that Jared bred, that lead to him telling her his plan to shoot up the school. She knew it from top to bottom. The plan was supposed to take place the second to last week of school when all Senior class would be there before graduation. They'd been together two years now and he'd been planning it for a few months. However, he never got the chance to do his plan. He went running his mouth on Discord and someone reported him to the FBI. He got arrested two months before the plan was to happen, and sentenced for attempted domestic terrorism. Saylor had been questioned, but she denied knowing anything despite knowing everything. She knew the plan like the back of her hand, but she never liked it. It was too messy. Too meaningless. She didn't hate all the kids and teachers at Cornell High. Just a few. The few that should die in her opinion, so she changed the plan.

She would only target the ones that tormented her for most of her life. She knew their class schedules. It would be easy. As a back up plan, there was a semi-automatic rifle and a pistol Jared stole buried in a hole under a dead bush by her house, along with ammunition. The day before the plan, she told, Tuyen, a girl she liked well enough to "Not come to school the next day." She didn't plan on shooting her, but stray bullets happened and she shared a class with one of the girls she planned on ending. The day of the plan, she dug the guns out, tucked the pistol into her waist band and strapped the semi-automatic to her back, then donned Jared's black leather trench coat he had planned to wear. She only planned to use the pistol, easy to conceal and control, plus she wouldn't need all fifteen bullets anyway. She never got the change to even pull her gun out, before hellish monsters arrived and fucked up her plan.

TYPE ⫻ Aberration - Adjoined

ABSTRACTION ⫻ The Nightmare is an aberration created from Saylor's rage that she can project from her body at will and let's it roam freely.

UNCANNY MIMICRY⫻ When at rest, Nightmare looks like Saylor, sounds like Saylor, and moves like Saylor but in an uncanny way. The eyes might not be just right. Its voice is a little too high or too deep. The way it moves might be slightly off. It's hard to identify what exactly is wrong, but it feels off. It puts Saylor in two places at once, but which one's real and which is the fake?

EYES ARE THE WINDOWS ⫻ At any moment, Saylor can look through the Nightmare's eyes to see what it sees when it's out. Saylor can control the Nightmare in these moments.

THE SHADOW ⫻ The Nightmare's true form is a shadow version of Saylor with glowing white eyes. It stands at 6'5 and has elongated fingers and sharp nails. In this form, it can possess people, act as a haunting in a home, blend into shadows, and attack or defend itself. It's attacks are using it's long nails to stab and/or disembowel. It sinks into shadows to escape from attacks or to travel. It can go from corporeal to incorporeal form and vice versa.

THE POSSESSION ⫻ The Nightmare can possess the Blind when in Shadow form to make them do its bidding. I.e. Attacking other people or paranormal beings, speaking on their behalf, killing themselves, and the list goes on. If the Blind being possessed survives, then they will become Aware.

LIMITS ⫻ The Nightmare can only operate outside of Saylor for two hours at a time, before it needs a rest. It will disappear and become one with her again once it's reached it's limit. The Nightmare needs four hours to recharge. If it maxes out its time limit each time it's out, then it can be out and about four times a day. The shorter amount of time they're out, the more times a day it can come out.

Saylor can only move and see through the Nightmare's eyes and control it when it's at rest. Rest meaning, not on defense or offense. Possession and moving through shadows can be an at rest action. When the Nightmare is on offense or on defense, Saylor has to remain still to see through its eyes and control it. Attacking and defending take up more concentration. When the Nightmare possessions someone or something, Saylor can't see through its eyes at all.

If it takes a lot of damage, the Nightmare will automatically go back to Saylor, even if it's within the two hour time limit.

The Nightmare can only go as far as the town's limits when far from Saylor.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Environmental factors that flood areas with light or break shadows diminish their form, reduce their reach, and hinder their full manifestation. Bright or reflective surfaces can cause it to withdraw, destabilize its attacks, or make it flicker unpredictably. The Nightmare reflects Saylor’s mental state. Anxiety, fear, or distraction increases its unpredictability: it may attack the wrong target, misjudge distance, or lash out uncontrollably. Strong emotional manipulation, illusions, or mind-affecting effects can make it hesitate, flail, or even harm Saylor herself. Its power depends on her focus, so stress or sensory overload reduces its accuracy.

Possession and incorporeal movement depend on darkness. Well-lit areas, open spaces, block its ability to phase through shadows, hide, or move unseen. Its attacks are less precise in these conditions, and it cannot safely engage remotely without Saylor’s guidance.

The Nightmare is physically strong, but blunt force, heavy impacts, or environmental hazards can force it back into Saylor. Outside, it can be manipulated or tricked by reflective or refractive surfaces, causing it to collapse, misdirect attacks, or push it into hazards. Any obstacle that disrupts shadow paths limits its reach and offensive power.

Finally, its loyalty is conditional. The Nightmare protects Saylor only as long as it feeds on her fear and negativity. If sufficiently provoked or manipulated, it may refuse to act, misinterpret commands, or turn against threats unpredictably, leaving her vulnerable.

At the time, Erin was no different than the teenage girls that liked Twilight and named their kids after the characters. Her favorite anime was Sailor Moon. She wanted for Saylor to stand out. Be different than the town that birthed her. Made sure she'd go noticed and remembered no matter what room she walked into, so came the name Saylor Serenity Moon. She didn't even give the girl her last name. She believed Saylor's could be a star all her own. Not even blood could hold her back.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Above all, Camille wants to feel safe. There's always someone, somewhere. Watching him. Wishing him harm. Planning things. He can't take it, can't take being afraid all of the time. He keeps himself from harm however he can, but he's never safe. Never will be, in this town where he doesn't belong.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ You can't trust anyone. Camille doesn't fit in. He knows it. Everyone knows it. And that means that everyone can and will hurt him for it. They stare, they talk behind his back, blame him for things outside his control, and even his own mother... when in this situation, you have to fight back. You have to be able to rely on yourself, and only yourself. You have to get loud and angry, shatter that which threatens you, and show them all that they won't be able to hurt you without being hurt in return.

SECRETS ⫻ Camille hides a lot from people. But most of all, he hides just how afraid he always is, masking it by raging and lashing out. He hides just how scared and resentful he is of his own mother, hides how much her neglect has hurt him, for fear that would make him an even bigger target. And while deep down he knows that his paranoia is irrational, that while some people have hurt him, not everyone will, and that he desperately needs help to get better, he hides that too. Even from himself.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Camille has viciously repressed any kind of attraction he could have felt towards others.

FEARS ⫻ Camille is afraid of a lot of things. He's constantly anxious, mind conjuring up worst case scenarios. But most of all, he's afraid of other people, and especially of his mother.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ Camille is an outcast. He's new to the town, and oddity in and of itself, with a heavy accent and clumsy English. He's the one that gets into fights, that yells at people, that always seem to be alone. The one with bruised knuckles and a black eye that distracts from his threadbare clothing and abnormal thinness. He's trouble, pure and simple, and people usually just try to ignore him.

FLAWS ⫻ His paranoia and anger issues understandably tend to drive other people away, and he's very adverse at seeking help for anything. This is partly by design, but these attempts at keeping himself safe is what's stopping him from creating bonds that could actually help him out of his situation.

Camille was born and raised in the Magdalen Islands, in Canada. His father was Acadian, and his mother is American. They had met while she was on a work trip, and as his father used to say, it was love at first sight. They kept in contact for a few years, and eventually, his mother accepted to move in with him to his hometown and learn the language. They got married soon after, and a baby shortly followed. And so Camille was born, and then raised in a French-speaking household, in a tiny touristic village, with his only knowledge of English coming from school, and some help from his mother for homework.

Life was good. His father was a warm and affectionate man, and gave everything for his family. Despite being something of an anxious boy, Camille managed to make a few close friends over the years. His mother struggled slightly with adapting to her new home, but she did her best. Their village was small, barely a few hundred people, but it was tightly knit together. And the view on the Atlantic was to die for. It was all the young boy could ever ask for.

That changed when he was 12. His father was a tour guide, and during a tour, got into a boat accident. He was brought to the hospital, but after weeks of fighting for his life, he unfortunately passed away. Grief shattered what was left of their family. Their community was very small, a few hundred people only, and so people started talking. His mother tried to keep on, but could not stand to remain in the village and be pitied by her neighbours.

She threw herself into work more and more, beginning to neglect her son, or yelling angrily about her woes whenever he was around, sometimes even vocally blaming him for her life going off the rails. When Camille turned 14, she had enough, and left with her son back to her own hometown, Cornwell. He was forced to cut contact with his friends and what little family he had on his father's side, and all he was left from his village with was a tiny souvenir keychain he had managed to hide in his luggage.

Camille... did not enjoy being separated from all he ever knew to be thrust into a city whose language and culture he did not understand. This only aggravated the conflicts between him and his mother.

They have been living in Cornwell for 2 years now. His mother works in a dead-end job she hates, but pays enough for bills and food. Camille is isolated from his peers, both from being homeschooled for the first year so that he could get good enough at English to attend public school, and from the general difficulties that come with immigrating somewhere. Resentment keeps building in his home life, with his mother barely paying attention to him unless it's to scream at him about something. She fully refuses to even speak to him in French anymore. All the while, he himself has been growing more and more paranoid and isolated over time.

Instead of having to stay around other people, he spends as much time as he can alone in the woods. He goes home as late as he possibly can without prompting his mother into a screaming match. He skips meals whenever his mother actually bothers to cook for more than just herself, just so that he doesn't have to stay around her more than he needs to. he gets to class at the last minute, and leaves as soon as he can. He doesn't even really go online for more than research; he doesn't trust the people there either.

He hates this town. Hates how big it is compared to his village. Hate how dead it is in comparison. There was a dullness in Cornwell, one he's not used to. Such a populous place should not feel like a ghost town, or a pond of starving piranhas...

He tried to reach out exactly once. A party he'd heard of. Most likely an excuse to get drunk, but he wouldn't say no to that as well. Maybe he could find someone there, someone that he wouldn't have to be afraid of. He would go, he would try.

And then the Pit opened. And then Cornwell wasn't so dull anymore. And then he started being able to break more than just things, or people's jaws.

He's terrified of what's happening. Of not being able to leave anymore. Of the monsters. Of himself, and others with powers. But he doesn't have a choice. He has to survive, and if that means having to trust someone else sometimes, then he'll just have to swallow a scream and do it.

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Red and Purple Lux. Channeler is a lobster-shaped souvenir keychain from Camille's hometown.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Camille's affinity lies in lashing out and shattering the fragile parts of reality, whether it be glass or space itself. It comes to him easy; he's used to breaking stuff and having to work around with the remaining shards. He's still more like to punch you in the face than cast a spell on you, though his new magic makes it much easier for him to do so.



LIMITS ⫻ Most of Camille's abilities revolve around shattering things and manipulating sharp objects. This of course runs the risk of injuring himself and others accidentally. They're also highly responsive to his anger and anxiety, and Camille risks losing control if he ever gets too angry or scared.



WEAKNESSES ⫻ Camille’s magic is directly linked to his emotions. Anger and anxiety cause his shards to move faster and his portals to grow larger, but they also impair his control. The shards fly unpredictably, bounce off surfaces, and can hurt him as easily as enemies. He often bleeds from minor mistakes, and repeated use leaves his hands raw with small cuts. Glass pieces cannot be larger than roughly the size of his hand or 15 pounds without breaking apart or veering off course. Larger shards shatter unexpectedly, scattering fragments. Shards that leave his control retain momentum and may collide with him, embed in walls, or trap his feet. Portals have jagged edges and last for less than 2 minutes. Misaligned or unstable portals can injure anyone who passes through them. Creating portals requires physical strikes; missed or mistimed punches can bruise, strain, or cut his hands and arms. Portals vanish if he loses contact or focus, sometimes leaving him suspended mid-action. The Looking Glass relies on mirrors—moving, breaking, or obscuring one destroys the connection. Keeping more than three mirror pairs active strains his focus, leading to partial failures, lag, or misfires. Any disturbance in the anchor points can trap him or leave him vulnerable. All of Camille’s attacks are destructive, uncontrolled, and environment-dependent. Falling shards, collapsing glass, or misused portals often create hazards nearby. The more he fights, the more chaotic the battlefield becomes, increasing the risk of self-injury.

- Camille loves literature. He however makes a point out of not reading any American or English literature if not for school.
- Despite his behavioural issues, he's got good grades in school, except in English class. The language barrier kinda screws him over there.
- If he ever was to see a therapist, he'd probably be diagnosed with something along the lines of cPTSD, anger issues, and/or schizotypal personality disorder. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be in the cards for now.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Before the incident at the party, Tommy dreamed of being one of the few people that ever left Cornell. He dreamed of saving up enough money and finding a place far from Pennsylvania, where he’d connect with the world and make a name as a stage magician. The Tommy Bracken of his vision had friends and a family that he knew held him in high regard, and never had to question that he belonged somewhere.

Now that the world is trying to swallow Cornell up, his main goal is just seeing the end of whatever the fuck is happening.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Tommy believes that everyone can get a happy ending. He comes from the most barren town in the universe, and his life isn’t a complete loss. If he can manage that, he can manage better. And if he can manage better, then so can other people. All he has to do is try.

SECRETS ⫻ In the deepest reaches of the steel mill, one can find the skeletal remains of a man who went missing one year ago. The police never found his body, or the murder weapon. Tommy made sure they never would.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Tommy doesn’t get many chances to think about it. He at least feels an attraction to women, but there aren’t many options in Cornell.

FEARS ⫻ The prospect of growing old in Cornell terrifies him. He never wanted to be stuck here, in a dying town, even before it became a hellzone. And now, he has to grapple with the fear of possibly being killed by monsters.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ Tommy is an acquired taste. People know him as a well-meaning, gruff guy who will bitch and grouse one moment, and then go out of his way to give them a lift home or sort out whatever they ask him for help with. His demeanor certainly deters people who don't know him, but he's not really a bad guy. Even if he seems dejected and distant sometimes.

FLAWS ⫻ Tommy has a tendency to get stuck in his own head. A habit he hasn't shaken since Cornell began drifting towards the Pit, in which he goes off the proverbial radar. Leave him be too long, and suddenly he's up on a rooftop thinking about who-knows-what. He goes quiet, fades into the background, and just haunts the place like a ghost. Tommy does these things because he lacks the sense of community that other people in his town have. Like a Texan in New York City, he isn't quite as connected to the people of Cornell as he should be. It's never been home to him, and so he's used to assuming that other people feel the same way towards him. Empathy for other people is what keeps him coming around, more so than a sense of belonging.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Richard Bracken. He was a steelworker, slinging slag and metal with the best of them over the river in the olden days. Old Richie swung hammers and pulled chains, drove forklifts and pulled levers from six every morning to half past eight every evening. Five days a week, he dug in and sought the American Dream. He enjoyed the job, the feeling of making something and powering through was an accomplishment in his mind. The man didn’t do anything halfway, didn’t let the boss man keep him or anyone down. Richard was just the kind of man who didn’t belong in Cornell. And it wasn’t until he crossed paths with Lauren Walker that he learned that.

She was a waitress at the local diner, with dreams of moving out and heading off to Philadelphia when she saved up enough money for college. Her old man wanted her to “marry up,” her mother wanted her to just find some happiness. She was lonely one night, he was twenty-six, neither of them had anything better to do. So they got together one night at Richard’s place, and turned an entire bottle of tequila into a baby. They named it Tommy.

The nine months before he was born were a blurry disaster of a shotgun wedding, weeks without a night free of shouting, and a few fist fights between Richard and Mr. Walker. Ultimately, everyone came together and decided the kid deserved a chance in spite of his parents' bad decisions. Tommy didn't see a lot of his dad growing up, after the man added guilt to his list of motivations for working the mill. He did his best, even if his best wasn't always the best. His early life could've been better, but at least he had both a mother and father. There were very few times when both of them were in the same room, with one parents working the weekends and the other being on the clock most of the week.

As he got older, the steel mill became a rusted husk. His father was one of the last workers to ever set foot there, and before long, the beating heart of Cornell was cold. By the time Tommy was 10, his father had to give up the job. It's said that Old Man Richie died with the mill, but only a piece of him did. He never found another job after that, and took to spending more time with his kid. Tommy took after both his parents and believed that he could have a good life if he earned it. He had the fading drive of his father and the sensibility of his mother, neither of which wanted him to be stuck here. And so he pushed himself to try and get out there. He did the best he could in school, took on odd jobs around Cornell to earn spare cash, and did all the usual things errant kids did with disposable income.

High school rolled around, and Tommy got that itch every kid in Cornell gets. The itch to abandon the town and never look back, to tell himself he'd make it. His parents were behind him in that, even if his own dreams were built on what remained of theirs. He started spending more and more time away from home, feeling increasingly unhappy with the hand life dealt him. One night, he found a homeless guy doing card tricks for money on the street. Tommy emptied his pockets that night, absolutely fascinated by what the guy could do, and even learned how to do a few of them himself. It quickly became a fun hobby of his. A way to pass the time, wow people, and what teenage boy didn't thing it was cool?

Tommy didn't quite mesh with other kids his age the way he should have. All too often, he heard the whispers and gossip about how people were either getting out, or getting trapped. All too often, he'd sneak back into the house after a long night of teenage shenanigans just to catch his parents looking like their souls were snatched by paperwork on the kitchen table. On some of those nights, he just turned around and left again. Tommy tried to skirt around that sadness, but it stuck to him either way. He managed to turn it into anger on occasion, but it dragged him down all the same.

The day he finally managed to afford an old, beat-up, used car was one of the best days of his life. His parents were awfully curious how, but it was easy to explain that he'd been working like a damn robot over the last two summers. They believed him, though they warned him about the insurance. He got his license, tossed a permit into the trash, and started driving to school. He felt like he was somebody, like Tommy Bracken mattered. Most kids his age didn't have a car, but Tommy? Tommy found the American Dream.

That feeling lasted a few days, and that was it.

One step on a mile high ladder, nine hundred and ninety-nine more to go. That was how Tommy felt after he drove too and from school for a week. In the end, he was still in a dying town, he just didn't have to walk everywhere. And it wasn't like anyone really cared. Where was he going? Home? Yeah, so were they. When a certain party rolled around a few months later, Tommy was surprised he even got an invitation. But he showed up all the same, grateful for the thin veneer of belonging that it brought. He didn't drink, he wasn't walking home and he wasn't about to let a few of them do the same after drinking trashy beers. He just hung back without a lot of socializing, occasionally showing off a sweet card trick people didn't know he could do.

Then the Pit opened its jaws wide open.

Tommy didn't really understand what was happening. One moment, someone was talking about a football game, and the next, the air was ripped in half. The ground was in two places at once, he was bleeding, and monsters were spilling in. Some guy whose name he didn't get was the cause of it, causing everyone to run in terror. Tommy had never felt that kind of terror, so potent that it made him dream of golden beasts in a city that never looked the same. Where most people stayed together and run in some semblance of a coherent group, Tommy was running into No Man's Land as if there were demons chasing after him. There was little time to question the golden trails of light weeping out of gashes in his skin like smoke, or the sounds of roaring that drowned out the screams. He was out like fly in the win.

His car was abandoned there by the warehouse. In the woods surrounding Cornell, he climbed into a tree and let his senses do what they would. He spent hours there, eventually calming down enough to feel a source of power coming off the deck of cards in his pocket. There was a warm knot of something in his chest, and he followed it like a thread. He saw visions of armies, coming together at the behest of people whose names he did not know. He saw them invoke names and weave strands of gold light into bestial shapes, summoning monsters. It was a lot to take in, but he figured something out in time.

He was a damn wizard, and he could conjure things like those visions.

When Tommy came out of the woods, back to other people who were getting their own bearings after the chaos, he was followed by monsters of his own making. He wanted answers, and he was going to get them.

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Gold Lux, Tommy's Channeler is a deck of cards.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Tommy is a summoner who creates monstrous minions out of a mix of Gold Lux, the remains of other creatures, and sources of magic that he can get his hands on. These handcrafted summons are bound into the cards of his deck, and brought out when needed.



LIMITS ⫻ Tommy is not the sort of Gold Adept who fires and forgets. His summons have personality, a distinctness to them that doesn't begin when tapped or end when retired. For him, the things he creates are lasting and permanent, not simply transient. As a consequence of this, Tommy lacks the ability to improvise on the spot. He requires time to come up with a new summon for his deck, and different materials to create something new. All of his summons are built off of a scaffolding, meaning to make anything particularly flashy, he needs another Adept, a monster he can gut for spare parts, or perhaps an object of magical importance.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Tommy’s summons are inherently linked to his body and life force, not solely his Lux. Damage to a summon reflects as physical injuries—reopened wounds, joint or muscle damage, or even cardiac shock or unconsciousness if destroyed violently. Even in victory, his body sustains damage, and repeated losses cause long-term injuries that don’t heal naturally. The deck functions as a physical part of the abstraction. Damaging a card harms its summon: burns cause instability, tears create missing or deformed parts, and stolen cards enable enemies to misuse or control his creations. Tampering or damaging the deck can cause summons to appear in the wrong order or be incomplete. If too many cards are compromised, his Gold Lux locks completely, preventing summoning to prevent death. Summons embody the emotional and conceptual essence of their materials. Trauma, resentment, or beliefs in source components influence behavior over time. Intelligent or meaningful sources can resist control or subtly sabotage him, and people connected to those sources can psychologically interfere with the summons. The stronger the source, the greater the long-term risk.

Raptor is powered by Tommy’s blood and pain. Each attack reopens wounds, and prolonged use causes internal bleeding and shock. Blood manipulation disrupts Raptor, and restraining him causes severe chest pain. Destroying Raptor results in the loss of a meaningful memory, and repeated losses diminish his capacity to form attachments. Porter has a limited carrying capacity. Exceeding it causes violent structural failure, destroying items metaphysically. Porter experiences what it holds, making volatile or living items dangerous. If immobilized, Tommy’s body mirrors its restraint and weight. If Porter is destroyed while loaded, he suffers serious spinal injuries. Watcher’s howl assaults Tommy’s nervous system. Repeated alerts cause migraines, vertigo, seizures, and dissociation. Reflective environments cause confusion, while silence or sound suppression triggers uncontrollable howling. Destroying Watcher causes a temporary loss of facial recognition.

Tommy drives an old Mercury Cougar that used to collect dust in some old guy's garage.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Tuyen wants to escape the life she feels trapped in, though she doesn’t feel she’ll ever be good enough to. Her goal is simple enough- graduate high school, go to college, and move away from her aunt and uncle. Maybe then she’ll stop living in other people’s shadow. Maybe one day she could be a published author. It feels incredibly out of reach. Everything does, beyond her current state.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ You have to keep going, no matter what. Tuyen believes in putting on a brave face and smiling even if things seem helpless. This philosophy classes with how she feels about herself and her life, but it’s still something she’s trying to live by.

SECRETS ⫻ Sometimes when she looks at Vicky Prescott, she feels something more than friendship. It makes her feel disgusted with herself, and she keeps that and her actual sexuality locked up inside her. She doesn’t let anyone know about how bad her self doubts are. It’s obvious that she struggles a bit socially, but everything else is carefully hidden behind forced happiness and positivity. She doesn’t want anyone to know how much she needs validation from others, what her family thinks of her, or what she thinks of herself. Her depression is another secret, and the self harm stemming from it is only in places she can keep carefully hidden. Not to mention that her shadow– no she– killed people while trying to survive the party. Nobody knows, because it was so chaotic, just as no one knows about the shadow itself.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Tuyen wants to believe she’s straight. She’s had a boyfriend before, mostly because she never expected anyone to want to go out with her. But she didn’t like him. She’s never liked a boy, not in the way she’s had crushes on girls. But that’s just not right, because she is straight. She just can't accept herself as anything else.

FEARS ⫻ There’s a lot that Tuyen fears. She fears failure and the judgment that follows. Will she always be this worthless? She’s scared she’ll always live in someone else’s shadow, while not being able to see a future where she doesn’t. She’s even more terrified that she’s going insane. Her shadow talks to her, she’s seeing things, what else could it be?

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ Friendly but forgettable. If asked if they know Tuyen, most people would probably say ‘who.’ If someone pointed to her, they’d go ‘oh, that girl.’ She isn't an outsider by any means, having lived her whole life here, but she's just a face in the crowd. Anyone that bothered to get closer will know about the happy, caring Tuyen. But she’s most well known in relation to others- the younger cousin of the much more popular and incredibly smart Min-Jun, friend slash lackey of school queen Vicky, ex-girlfriend of John Miller (least popular member of the football team, who only really dated her because of the group she’s sort of part of).

FLAWS ⫻ Tuyen is severely lacking in self confidence. She, quite frankly, hates herself. Her self perception is distorted from years of emotional abuse from her relatives. She’s been told how worthless she is, how she’s a failure, constantly compared to her much smarter cousin and even blamed for her parents’ deaths. Of course she believes it, leading to someone who’s only grown more insecure as she grows up. This has developed into a silent, functional depression- the kind that she can hide under long skirts and smiles, but creeps in at night when she’s alone. Now she’s never alone, with her shadow always tormenting her.

Her doubts aren’t just for herself, but for the others around her too. She’s a wallflower who doesn’t try to talk to people because she doesn’t believe anyone would want to talk to her. She’s always friendly when someone approaches her, but always assumes they’re just being polite. In the rare friendships she has, she believes that they’re just doing it to be nice, out of the kindness of their hearts rather than her being worthy of the friendship. After all, why would anyone want to be friends with her? And because she feels she doesn’t deserve the friendship, but desperately craves it, she’ll go along with anything they say no matter how detrimental it is to herself. She hides all her problems underneath a cheerful facade, rather pretending everything’s alright than letting the cracks show. She doesn’t want to affect the others around her, after all.

Tuyen was an accident, but a welcome one (to her parents, at least). Her mother, Yeon-Seo Lee, was a native to Cornell, with strict and overprotective parents who ran a small business. She’d escaped to university in a bigger city in Pennsylvania. Her father, Liem Doan, was in the final year of his masters degree, having come to the States from Vietnam to study. They’d only been together for a few months when a contraceptive failure resulted in Tuyen. Unsurprisingly, Yeon-Seo’s parents weren’t happy about a child out of wedlock.

To appease them, Tuyen’s parents rushed to marry before she was born, moving back to Cornell. Liem dropped out of university to get a job in the steel mill. Then Tuyen came into the world, to a loving mom and dad- even if they hadn’t expected a daughter so early. They were happy, but Yeon-Seo had always been sickly. The pregnancy took a toll on her, exacerbating other chronic issues resulting in her deteriorating until she passed away when Tuyen was only two.

Her dad did his best to raise her, but with no financial help from either side of the family, he had to work long and hard hours to keep a roof over their head. But the one thing Yeon-Seo’s family did was ‘look after’ Tuyen while he was away at work. Sometimes it was her grandparents, who treated her like dirt and put her to work as soon as they could. The rest of the time was spent with her aunts- the much older sister of her mom, who’d respectably married and had a child at the ‘right time.’ This child was Min-Jun, Tuyen’s one year older cousin.

But the gap between them was much wider than their age. Min was incredibly smart for his age, obedient, the kind of kid adults adored and he had plenty of friends his age too. Tuyen was none of these things. She was loud, energetic and struggled with school. She was constantly compared to Min and belittled by her aunt, uncle and grandparents most of the time she spent at theirs. The only person who treated her well was Min. He treated her like a younger sister, and they were close. But she was eternally in his shadow. Any care from her mom’s family was conditional on her being as perfect as him- or more perfect. After all, she’d killed her mom. She should at least make something of herself, even with her dad’s genes dragging her down.

Her only solace was her dad, who loved her unconditionally. When she was eight, he lost his job at the steel mill as it started to scale back operations. It wasn’t a job he was attached to, but it was a stable one that connected him to the larger community. But there was nothing he could do about it, still needing to put food on the table. After a short period, he managed to get a job as a trucker.

This meant he was away longer, sometimes for days if he was given longer jobs. Tuyen spent even more time with her mom’s family. She didn’t cry when her grandfather passed away when she was nine, or when her grandmother followed him a year later. Being at her aunt’s wasn’t much better, but at least Min was there. The emotional abuse took its toll, however, causing her to grow into a quiet and insecure preteen unlike the bright and happy young child she’d been.

But she endured it silently, because even at her young age she knew how difficult it was for her dad. She didn’t want the time they had together to be anything but happy.

Halfway through her twelfth year, the worst happened. After working longer than he should have to make some extra money, Liem fell asleep at the wheel on his way home to his daughter. He swerved onto the wrong side of the road and crashed into another car. It was a severe crash and he died before he reached hospital.

It felt like her whole world had collapsed. She was taken in by her aunt, and suddenly there was no escape. No dad that loved her. She didn’t have any support anymore, apart from the thirteen year old perfect cousin she was constantly compared to. She couldn’t even dwell in it, because her aunt wouldn’t accept that.

People pitied her at school, but it only lasted so long before she blended back into the crowd. She’s managed to get through the almost five years since. The grief is always there, and her self doubts have escalated to self hatred and an unhealthy dose of depression. She copes by pretending to be happy, forcing an outwards positivity as if that will purge the negative thoughts, along with other unhealthy coping mechanisms. At least she has a friend, and that friend has a whole group of friends Tuyen is sort of part of.

It was that friend that dragged her along to a party in an abandoned warehouse. It seemed that everyone from school was there- at least everyone going into junior and senior year after summer. Tuyen was doing what she did best- running errands by getting Vicky another drink so she could stick with her then-alive boyfriend- when all hell broke loose. A horrendous creature that tore through drunk teenagers.

It wasn’t the only thing that slipped through the tear. A weak, fading Apparition known as the Shadow followed close behind. In the Pit it was starved, torn down from its original strength by other Apparitions. But here it could feast. And it found the juiciest meal of all- Tuyen, with all her self hatred and insecurity. As she stood there panicking it adjoined to her, erupting into life as a horrendous creature from her nightmares.

It didn’t fight the monster that had slipped through. It only stopped Tuyen from being killed by it, giving her the chance to run. But it left its own trail of blood behind on the way out. Anyone who got in the way was torn out of it. Tuyen’s horror and guilt only encouraged it. She survived, but at what cost?

She fled back home- a cold empty home, with the rest of her ‘family’ travelling to help Min settle into his new student life at Harvard. It's difficult to not isolate herself completely as the horrible creature that’s attached itself to her whispers poison in her mind. She must be going insane. She's been even quieter than normal, and while she made it in for the first day she skipped the rest of the first week, only leaving her house to go to her part time job at the diner. But excuses are running thin, and she doesn't want her aunt contacted, so after most of the first week off she forced herself back in. She's doing her best to draw even less attention to herself now.

TYPE ⫻ Adjoined.

ABSTRACTION ⫻ The Shadow, a shadow-like Apparition born from negative thoughts and emotions that sometimes manifests to help her, but otherwise tortures her.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ The Shadow is a semi-sentient Apparition that’s latched onto her negativity and intense self doubts. It constantly taunts her, torturing her with the feelings of dread and insecurity she has inside. It feeds into her self hatred and tells her horrendous things that she can’t deny. It feeds off her negative emotions, especially her insecurities, and is motivated to drag her down further.

Unlike many adjoined Apparitions, the Shadow is always visible to Tuyen, rather than disappearing into her when dormant. In its inactive state, only Tuyen can see it (aside from paranormals with certain magic). It takes the shape of her shadow, a perfect doppelganger of her. It actively protects her from psychic intrusion by filling the intruder’s minds with screams. It can cloud Tuyen's vision by creating illusions, and fooling her into believing things that are not there, or hiding things. With enough focus, Tuyen is able to suppress the Shadow for a period of time, and get some peace - but it'll always return.

It can also manifest physically when it chooses to, appearing to anyone that isn’t a Blind. Its default appearance is a solid, black shadow version of Tuyen. However, its most basic magic is the ability to manipulate its own shape. It’s limited only by Tuyen’s imagination, up to twelve feet. It can either keep its form as a shadow of Tuyen, or it can become some horrific monster, whatever is spawned from her imagination. In this form the shadow is strong, able to throw a fully grown man around like it's nothing or flip over a car with sheer brute strength. It can grow claws, teeth, and all manners of appendages to harm people. The Shadow will only manifest when it wants to, or if Tuyen is able to plead with it. Normally it’s only interested in tormenting Tuyen rather than helping her. However, Tuyen is the perfect victim for it to feed off, so it will protect her from dying without being asked. Anything more than that? She’ll have to beg.

LIMITS ⫻ While it’s adjoined to her, the Shadow has essentially taken the part of Tuyen’s shadow. It can’t move away from her, always needing to remain physically tethered to her in some way. It can extend out from her, but it’s no more mobile than she is, making her its weak spot thanks to how they’re connected. It can grow to ten feet tall, strong enough to throw cars, and its ability to change its shape is only limited by Tuyen’s imagination. Tuyen cannot control the Shadow. It does as it pleases, sometimes listening if she begs, but often not. There’s a chance that getting over her insecurities and fears could allow her to control it, but it’s just as likely to weaken the Shadow and make it useless.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ The Shadow is semi-autonomous and unreliable in response to commands. Its protection is inconsistent, sometimes ignoring threats, delaying reactions, or acting against Tuyen’s wishes. When distracted or hostile, it can misinterpret reality, blocking her view or creating illusions that cause her to stumble, trip, or collide with obstacles.

Since it is connected to her body, Tuyen’s movements directly influence the Shadow. Any attack that immobilizes, restrains, or displaces her reduces its effectiveness. Prolonged restraint, pinning, or confinement limits its physical manifestations, leaving her vulnerable to harm it cannot prevent.

The Shadow relies on Tuyen’s negative emotions for sustenance, which also empower it. Efforts to suppress fear, anxiety, or self-doubt weaken her perception and awareness. In contrast, spikes of dread increase its influence and unpredictability. Emotional overload can cause erratic behavior, indiscriminate attacks, or hallucinations trapping her.

Its physical forms are formidable but bound to her imagination. Focus issues, exhaustion, or injuries diminish its size, strength, and versatility. If Tuyen is unconscious, incapacitated, or mentally compromised, the Shadow may stay dormant, leaving her unprotected, or act unpredictably, risking herself and others.

The tether makes it vulnerable—environmental factors like sunlight, reflective surfaces, walls, or anti-paranormal wards can limit its reach or disrupt its form. Its attacks depend on what can physically extend from Tuyen, making long-range combat difficult.

Additionally, relying on the Shadow reduces Tuyen’s independence. She hesitates to act decisively, considering its potential reactions. Overuse, pleading, or dependence can cause hesitation, paralysis, or misjudgment in combat, turning the Shadow from an ally into an unpredictable threat

Tuyen is fluent in Vietnamese and Korean, though her Vietnamese is a little rusty now.

She sometimes plays in the softball team just to fill in numbers when actual team members are sick (at Vicky’s behest, obviously). Or the year they just didn’t have enough people. She’s average, which is just about enough to not completely drag the team down.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Daniel Mars is far from perfect, yet an undisputed fact is that he has tried to do good, and the world has rarely stopped punishing him for it. Beneath his enthusiasm and smiles, the abuse, isolation and existential confusion have certainly, most definitely not begun to blossom into a crisis of faith from which has only been exacerbated by recent events. Daniel’s preferred outcome would be to find some sense of renewal and meaning in his beliefs, reconcile the delusion of his family and life as wonderful with his growing desire to flee them forever, exorcise the demon currently residing in part of his soul and, most immediately, put a halt on the strange and sacrilegious goings-on in town. Not asking for much!

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Shakes to his morale aside, Daniel was and still is a devout follower of Christianity. The sermons from his father and his own personal studies had helped guide him through much of a tumultuous life initially - even with some contradiction of what the correct standard of living is to be, compared to his immediate role models - but that has become less and less of a steady guide as he’s aged. Nonetheless, Daniel genuinely believes in understanding and kindness to others, judging no one for their troubles or beliefs and always striving to improve as a human being. His positivity, non-confrontational attitude and purity can easily come off as annoying but given that much of his free time is spent doing voluntary work or other charitable endeavors, it’s hard to argue the sincerity.

SECRETS ⫻ The fact that Daniel is more high-strung, depressed and muddled than he’d like to present is not a particularly well-kept secret, however, the fact that he has something of a rebellious streak actually is. Seeing morality often be callously flaunted by others - including those with a religious duty to adhere to it - had caused Daniel to test the limits himself, sneaking a few extra sips of the communion wine, borrowing and then NOT returning a pencil in grade school. Of course, the most notable example of this was a certain party in an abandoned warehouse and the events that followed, something Daniel is not wholly convinced isn’t somehow his fault and all the problems since are some sort of divine retribution.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Daniel is, at least, straight, certainly as far as he knows anyway. A highly religious conservative household is not exactly the best environment for self-discovery.

FEARS ⫻ While always willing to stretch himself to fulfill whatever irrational designs others have upon him, Daniel is wary of a great many things in life, chief among recently is the spirit infesting his body. There are however two things above all else that chill Daniel to his core. The possibility that, despite everything he has been told, God is not there, or worse yet, He does exist and He is displeased.

REPUTATION ⫻ To his peers, Daniel is a gullible, overly-cheery and often sanctimonious loser who is, not unwarrantedly, a frequent target of pranks or bullying. To the older generation of Cornell, Daniel is the sweet - if dimly innocent - son of the town preacher, always giving his time and effort for the community and anyone who seeks his aid. To the local homeless, he is known as “The Soup Kid”. None of these perceptions are strictly wrong.

FLAWS ⫻ Daniel is a pushover, his positivity and earnest desire to be a kind, empathetic and helpful presence in the lives of others often means he’ll take people at the word even when he himself knows that it may not be the best course of action. In spite of his positive qualities, he rarely believes in himself and defers to the instruction of others, authority figures in particular. Magically speaking, this new world of abstraction and reality warping is something his tightly wound brain struggles to comprehend and he particularly dislikes cooperating with or especially handing control over to the apparition he is adjoined with.

Daniel Mars was born to the perfect father - the charismatic and wealthy preacher, Michael Mars - the perfect mother - the beautiful and personable former pageant star, Aimee Mars - and is the elder brother to the perfect little sister - the bright-eyed and pure one year old infant, Jerusha Mars. Therefore, Daniel is to be the perfect son, intelligent, industrious, athletic, virtuous and most importantly of all, God-fearing.

The truth is, as always, less cut and dry. Michael Mars is indeed a charismatic and well-respected man of God, he is also small, petty, violent, prone to drink and forever bubbling with self-conscious anger that his career in the entertainment industry never went anywhere and he is reduced to singing and preaching for bumpkins in a podunk town like Cornell. Aimee Mars is indeed the picture of serenity, she is also perpetually doped up on a cocktail of pills and largely on a plane of her own reality, all the better to enrage her ranting husband. Between this lies Daniel, armed only with faith that has been drilled into him since birth alongside strict rules of conduct and corporal punishment.

Accordingly, Daniel grew into a teenager with a strong work ethic and maladjusted social skills. His optimism and positive qualities came from natural inclination or a rare positive influence in his upbringing, yet his deference to authority and mild indoctrination has him, for the most part, convinced all of it spawns from the good teachings and firm hand of his parents. Bizarrely, this left Daniel ill and well prepared for the almost ritualistic bullying and teasing that followed him as he entered the education system, both too positive to let it ruin him and too used to arbitrary pain to effectively resist or circumvent the harassment in any meaningful way.

Going into his teenage years, as it does for most adolescents, brought about significant change and confusion to this routine however. Daniel came to find less and less comfort in the psalms, parables and drunken ramblings (helpfully provided by his father) that seemed to make sense of the abuse he suffered. Any routes for introspection and growth weren’t exactly clear however, neither of his parents were the picture of self-actualization nor did they have any desire to confront that fact, which led to Daniel mildly being confronted by the fact that, despite any potential good he could feasibly do, there was little to actually like about Cornell Pennsylvania. If this, the beautiful little town he had been told since birth was blessed by God, was so fraught with flaw, what did that say about the rest of the world?

These thoughts and questions festered into “rebellion”, of a sort. Daniel, still innocent and good-intentioned, started testing the boundaries that his parents had told him would lead to damnation or some other grizzly fate just for considering them. Whether that was such heinous actions as handing in a project a few hours before the deadline, not properly tucking in his shirt at service or even not replenishing the soda cans in the fridge after taking the last one! The problem was, none of these acts gave Daniel much in the way of perspective, that is until he heard of a party happening in the old warehouse. A promising opportunity, if a rather nerve-wracking one. Daniel, unsurprisingly, had never been to a party before, perhaps there he could find some kind of clarity in seeing how the other side of Cornell lived, perhaps he could speak with and save some potential lost souls.

Perhaps, Hell itself would spill forth into Cornell and Daniel would run afoul of a particularly clingy demon.

He could not tell you much of the incident, indeed, Daniel had been ready to flee already from the lights, revelry and underaged drinking. When it seemed that damnation had arrived on Earth, Daniel didn’t even realise he was running until he’d already broken through tree clearings in a mad dash to never again bear his eyes on that warehouse and the horrors within. Out in the twilight, screams of his peers echoing behind him, Daniel fell to his knees and tearfully prayed, a mumbling terror-filled plea that lacked meaning or sense as, for the first time, Daniel believed God was not there.

His prayer was answered. Among the manner of comprehension defying demons that tore into Cornell was one that considered itself above its peers, disdaining their senseless cruelty or especially their gleeful sadism, drawn to a particular font of unjust suffering and desire to protect. In an instant, Daniel Mars ceased to exist, and Valor was given form, rushing off towards the slaughter to deliver righteous judgement.

When he finally awoke to daybreak peeking through the trees, Daniel felt his muscles sting after being pushed past their limits, his hands cracking and black with dried blood and the instinctual knowledge that somehow or some way, many, many things had died by his hand.

“WAKE, APOSTLE,” a voice commanded from the depths of Daniel’s soul, “THERE IS WORK TO BE DONE.”

TYPE ⫻ Aberration (Adjoined)

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Daniel is Adjoined with and can transform into Valor - an apparition whose considerable raw power grows in response to perceived injustice.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Daniel’s body is now, reluctantly, a vessel for both himself and the “avatar of justice” Valor. By seceding control - or having it wrestled from him - to Valor, Daniel’s body takes the form of and is (largely) piloted by the apparition.

Visually, Valor takes a mostly humanoid shape, resembling a savage mockery of a knight templar. His “armour” appears less as shining steel and closer to blackened rock, capable of withstanding powerful blows and magical attacks. Its helmet - still bearing the distinctive cross shape on the front - is wreathed in a volatile azure flame, housing only shadow and two unblinking, perpetually flaring yellow eyes that peer judgingly from within. Appropriately, Valor cuts an intimidating figure at a muscular six feet and seven inches tall, with a shadow cast by its self-sustaining flames that grows considerably larger and seems to fall upon those Valor judges as especially wicked. When Valor speaks, its sentences are to the point and spoken in a powerful, if tinny baritone.

As it pertains to abilities, Valor is, rather fittingly, as blunt and inflexible as the apparition itself. Valor’s form enables greatly enhanced durability, strength and destructive power, all with the potential to grow in proportion with Valor’s righteous anger at the injustices of another. While limited in terms of adaptability, Valor's one-track instrument of karmic retribution tends to serve it fine, particularly when stoically marching through devastating force to deliver punishment.



LIMITS ⫻ While certainly powerful, Valor is very much a one-track mind. As the apparition is mostly in control of the form, it lacks any capacity or desire to consider things like lateral thinking. It's spells and powers help it do one thing and thing only - walk down the target of its immediate ire and rip it to death. While Valor is resistant to spells to some extent, it can be fooled, slowed or beaten by wearing it down, occasionally requiring external help to keep it sticking to a plan when facing anything that has sentient thought.

Additionally, in the event it takes too much damage even for its durability to withstand, it will forcibly revert back to Daniel and be unable to reform for at least a few hours. It will also complain incessantly as it is a sore loser.



WEAKNESSES ⫻ Valor functions as a blunt judgment tool, lacking subtlety or foresight. It responds to perceived injustice rather than strategic planning and can be baited or misled through manipulations of morality. Ambiguity and clever deceptions confuse it, creating vulnerabilities. Its connection to Daniel means any harm or restraint to Daniel affects Valor directly. Excessive damage causes a reversion, leaving Daniel exposed while it recovers, and environmental hazards or attacks on Daniel can interrupt it or cause it to lose control. Its power intensifies with anger and perceived wickedness, but extreme fury can cloud judgment, leading to overreach, miscalculation, or the ignoring of collateral hazards. Strong opponents can exploit its aggression to isolate or flank it. Weapons crafted by Valor are temporary, slow to appear, and disappear if misused or released, creating offensive gaps. Its focus on "evil" means it often doesn't recognize instinct-driven, chaotic, or morally ambiguous foes, allowing attacks that evade provoking its wrath while threatening Daniel. Finally, Valor’s inability to adapt or strategize makes it predictable.

Daniel is naturally averse to swearing or blasphemy. He won’t chide others for doing either but will try to muffle his hearing of it or at least censor it in his mind.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ She’s getting out of Cornell. Vicky wasn’t just trapped here recently when reality snapped. She’s been trapped here her whole life, same as her parents, and her parents’ parents, and her parents’ parents’ parents. She’s not a quitter. She’s not moving the goalposts. She’s changing the play. If good academics and a sports scholarship can no longer get her out of Cornell then calculated sacrifices and an aluminum bat will.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Everything is a competition and life is a zero-sum game. It’s stupid and impossible to try and make everybody happy. Someone has to lose so that somebody can win, and winning is the most important thing in the world. Anyone who says otherwise is just either lying or delusional. This doesn’t mean that Vicky doesn’t believe in cooperation. Cooperation is important. Teamwork is important. The best way to keep winning is to surround yourself with other winners. She just has to be the MVP.

SECRETS ⫻ Vicky is a bully. She’s clever enough not to get caught. Typically, her form of harassment is insidious and untraceable: hateful notes left in a locker, vandalism when nobody is watching, mean comments on social media from a fake profile. People need to remember their place, and that’s below her.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Vicky is attracted to anyone, anyone, anyone who isn’t named Danny Graham. She mostly just dates for status, because how can she possibly love someone more than she loves herself?

FEARS ⫻ She is afraid that she’ll become her parents. She’s scared that she’ll be like her dad, who peaked in high school. She’s afraid she’ll become her mom, who thinks that wine in a box is a good deal and buys wood burned signs that say Live, Laugh, Love. She’s terrified that she’ll have children not for the sake of raising a family but as an act of selfish narcissism, a final Hail Mary pass in an attempt to vicariously have some kind of life because her own has fallen apart, pressuring and pressuring her kids to do better and be better until they snap just like her stupid, broken brother.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ Vicky was the golden child. She’s “friends” with everybody. She’s pretty. She’s cool. She’s popular. There’s a reason she’s been crowned the Cob Queen of Cornell in a never seen before back-to-back victory at the end of the yearly Corn Har-Fest parade, and it’s only partially because her mother is on the planning committee. Then her boyfriend ate shit and died. Rumors began to spread, whispers saying that they had been fighting, that Vicky was somehow at fault, that it was even intentional. The authorities deemed his death as accidental. It didn’t matter. She was the golden child, but now she’s public enemy number one.

FLAWS ⫻ She’s selfish, overcompetitive, and fueled almost entirely by jealousy, all of which is huddled up tightly beneath one big massive umbrella of insecurity and repackaged to look like confidence. She always has to come out the winner. She always must get her way. Vicky would rather complain than compromise, be right rather than protect someone’s feelings, and have everyone lose rather than let someone else win. Part of her hates that she’s like this. That part of her is a quitter, a loser, a stupid little dumb bitch and Vicky has to CRUSH IT!

Vicky vividly remembers her first defeat. Her brother never lets her forget it. It was back when she was playing peewee soccer. She was four, maybe five. For once she got the ball out of the mob of little kids and scored a goal, the first one of the summer, the only one of the season, and it was in her own goal. The kids didn’t really care. They still got to eat cardboard cheese pizza at the arcade after the game. But the coach? Coach Prescott? Her dad? He was so utterly disappointed.

She doesn’t remember if he gave her “the speech” after that, but Vicky’s pretty certain her dad would. He would do some variant of it every time she lost a match, or wanted to quit, or dressed “wrong”, or hung out with people that he didn’t like. It always went something like, “There’s no losers in my household. You’re a Prescott, and being a Prescott means you win! And winners dont’...” Riveting, motivating shit from a man who grunted whenever he stood up, fell asleep every night in a recliner after killing a six pack, and had the yawn-inducing job title of logistics manager.

Vicky wasn’t the original plan to define the Prescott legacy. That burden had fallen on her brother Winston’s shoulders since he was the oldest boy, but the boy fumbled the ball so it came down to Vicky to recover it. As her brother burned out, she shined. She won trophies, pageants, and scholastic achievements. She won things that weren’t even competitions. She won so much that everyone else began looking like a loser, including her friends, her teammates, and especially her family. Vicky realized then that she didn’t want to just define the Prescott legacy; she wanted to rewrite it.

Step one was destroying all of the losers in her life that held her back. Vicky was always kind of a brat, but now she’d graduated to being a full on bully. She kept it anonymous when it was aimed at her friends and peers, trashing them from behind the safety of the Internet. She wouldn’t do anything in the real world. She needed them around so that she could climb over their backs, but at home Vicky was an absolute monster. Mom stopped being Mom and became Diane. The first time Vicky made Diane cry it was just, whoa, chills.

“Just you wait until your father gets home.”

So what did he do when he got home? He cracked a beer. That was it. Without her, he had nothing. Vicky was queen of the castle, she was god, and she would remain so as long as she kept winning. She saw what it was like to lose. She saw it in her mother, who realized that her only daughter had grown up to hate her. She saw it in her father, who was no longer the man of the house. Vicky especially saw it in her brother when she found him on the bathroom floor, blood trickling out of his head, as she stood there frozen in fear, terrified that she was witnessing her future.

It's fine. He got better-ish.

Turns out a brother almost dying from an OD was the secret sauce needed to open a seat up for Vicky at the cool kids table. Vicky was, like, so strong and brave. Those words came from the same girls who used to call her Poser Prescott behind her back in middle school. She started to dress like them. She started to talk like them. But deep down Vicky knew she wasn’t like them. She was uglier in every sense of the word and meaner than they could ever imagine, but she was also hungrier, more desperate, more deserving. She wasn’t going to be like her brother, and she wasn’t going to lose her status once the next bitch racked up enough sympathy points to knock Vicky off of her pedestal. She would become unbreakable, untouchable, undefeatable.

So she didn’t crack when that no good, stupid, lousy, worthless piece of shit Danny Graham broke his promise to take her to prom so he could go with Bitchface McBigtits. She didn’t even flinch. She upgraded. She started going out with his best friend, Bray Cooke. Senior. Linebacker. Very big deal. She didn’t really like him. He had a stupid laugh, used 3-in-1 soap, hadn’t read a book since the third grade, and went exclusively by his stupid football nickname. But dating Chef (ugh) solidified her spot at the top of the pyramid, and when he went away to college after summer they could break up. Maybe she’ll say that he cheated on her. Oh, how tragic! Who could blame Chef, boys will be boys right, but still people would feel so bad for her.

It was the perfect plan to remain at the top of the social ladder and kick out all the rungs beneath her. Only Chef didn’t make it to college. He didn’t even make it through the summer. When the party of doom was over, what was left of Chef could be mopped up with a towel and rung out. Most of that blood was on Vicky. Questions were asked. Assumptions were made. Rumors spread. The town turned. She was no longer Vicky Prescott, the Cobqueen of Cornell, softball star, head cheerleader, and future prom queen. She was just that bitch who got Chef killed.

His death was the second worst thing she saw that night. Something else happened at that party. Something that scared the shit out of her. It was proof confirming that nugget of doubt in her mind, shown in the form of a Kindling Event. Even the consultation prize of magic couldn’t heal a revelation so tragic. Vicky wasn’t going to define the Prescott legacy. She certainly wasn’t going to change it. It had been written down in blood centuries ago. It had just been lost, but never truly went away. It said that the Prescotts weren’t winners. They weren't necessarily losers either, but they definitely weren’t winners. They were survivors, scurrying by to struggle some other day, like rats, and cockroaches, and insurance agents.

As the town weirdened and her “friends” started to earn those quotation marks, Vicky knew one thing for certain: she was scared. Scared that she might not live up to her true legacy of being a survivor. Scared of what she might do to become one. Scared that after everything is done and the town is unfucked, if the town could be unfucked, that she’ll still, still, still somehow end up dying in Cornell, survived by those who loved her, a club whose membership was becoming more and more exclusive by the day.

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Yellow Lux. Vicky’s channeler is her aluminum softball bat, although often she appears to be holding nothing at all. Her slugger of choice is a 32 inch black and yellow DeMarini Zenith fastpitch softball bat.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Vicky’s fresh to the scene when it comes to magic, but she’s a tried and true hand when it comes to not showing a single ounce of vulnerability. Her magic is as selfish as she is. She has an affinity for spells that protect herself and is either seemingly unwilling to or incapable of crafting defensive magic that directly assists others.



LIMITS ⫻ While some of her spells allow her to target others, Vicky currently is incapable of learning how to cast spells that would directly protect another person.



WEAKNESSES ⫻ Vicky’s abstraction primarily relies inwardly, and this self-focus is a fundamental flaw. Yellow Lux enhances her self-preservation and perception but isolates her from shared defensive space. Her magic actively resists protecting others; attempts to do so often cause spell collapse or feedback. In group settings, this makes her a liability—she can survive situations others cannot, but she cannot stabilize failing scenarios. When allies are injured or killed nearby, her Lux spikes into defensive overdrive, narrowing her focus and increasing tunnel vision and reactivity.

Shutout’s fragility is its biggest weakness. While it prevents momentum, it does not eliminate consequences. Impacts can transfer secondary effects—heat, electricity, corrosion, or poison once the weave shatters. Repeated high-impact Shutouts cause cumulative damage-microfractures, whiplash, and nervous system strain. Poor timing doesn’t just cause failure but can leave her worse off, as the Lux lock briefly contracts her muscles at impact. Because Shutout rewards taking hits, it risks creating a dangerous feedback cycle.

Shout-out’s silence proves to be a double-edged sword. When active, Vicky loses all external audio outside of the zone, leaving her unaware of unseen movements or environmental cues she can’t detect. Extended use leads to disorientation, delayed reactions, and balance issues, especially in chaotic settings. Since silence depends on vocalization, injuries that hinder breathing, gagging, choking, or throat damage can break the spell. If she panics and becomes silent, the silence ends with her.

Strikeout does not make an object intangible or self-guiding; it only removes it from everyone else’s perception. Vicky can still see the invisible object, but her awareness of it is entirely internal to her Lux perception. If her perception is disrupted by pain, concussion, sensory overload, disorientation, or perception-altering effects, the Lux highlight that lets her track the object can flicker or collapse. In those moments, the invisible object becomes genuinely difficult for anyone to locate, including her. Additionally, invisibility does not remove physical interaction. The invisible object still displaces air, leaves marks in dust, blood, or water, and collides with the environment.

Vicky used to write poetry and publish it anonymously online until she read a comment making fun of it. Now her poems are all locked away inside of a journal she hides underneath her mattress, and she’ll absolutely murder anyone if she ever caught them reading it.

Until freshman year of high school, Vicky just went by her first name. Calling her Posie nowadays is a quick way to get underneath her paperthin skin. Calling her Poser Prescott is a great way to get your locker filled with contents of the trash bin from the girl's locker room.

MAIN GOAL ⫻
Once upon a time, Lynn dreamed of greatness, success, and stability, but all she has experienced has been insignificance, failure, and a constant need for reinvention. Thus, her current goal is quieter, heavier, and far more fragile. All she wants in this world, in life, is for the pain of existence to stop noticing her. She wants to move through halls unseen, to exist without probing questions, or pitying looks, and above all else, without that awful pause people make when they learn what happened to her family. She wants to be gone, not physically, but in the social, emotional sense.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻
The pain of all she has endured has hallowed Lynn. She leans, perhaps unconsciously, towards a nihilistic viewpoint of life. It is not a dramatic or reckless view, but instead the muted and exhausted variant that seems ever more prevalent with people her age. She has the sense that meaning is a flimsy idea humanity made to make sense of the senseless. She views plans for today and tomorrow as some temporary thing subject to the whims of an uncaring universe that can, and will, take away everything at the drop of a dime without cause or meaning. It would take quite a lot of prodding to get her to reveal this, as being invisible to others means that you can’t quite give them ammunition to fire at you when they do notice your presence.

SECRETS ⫻
Lynn is responsible for the death of her family, or so she thinks. Before the accident that claimed their lives, she had a bitter fight with her mother. She did not want to go out to the woods that night. It was already late, she was tired, and she felt uneasy in the dark woods on a good day as is. She did not want to go; she did not want to have dinner at her family's friend's house, and her mother just did not get it. They both exchanged sharp blows with their words, yet the teenage anger that Lynn had brought to wield was quickly beaten down and broken by the unbridled, uncaring parent who was all too done with their children. They left fifteen minutes late, and then the crash followed.

Not a soul knows the true details of what happened before the crash, and as such, no one has blamed her or held her accountable for her actions that led to it. Yet all through Lynn’s mind, she has chained herself as the cause that led to the consequences of her actions with a merciless certainty.

SEXUALITY ⫻
Straightish. Lynn assumes she likes boys. That is the narrative she understands, the one that feels safest, simplest. Anything beyond that remains an option that she has neither explored nor considered exploring. At least yet.

FEARS ⫻
Lynn truly only has a few fears, and none of them are quite visible. While she fears the eventual questions every kid her ages asks, such as what do your parents do? She fears how a relationship can change when someone learns that you just went through a heavy loss. She also fears sleeping as her dreams can often blur into something too vivid. She has relived the accident more than once.

REPUTATION ⫻
The sad new girl. The quiet one. The outsider on the outside of social circles, without ever quite entering them. Lynn is easy to overlook, easier to misunderstand. Some students ignore her entirely. Others whisper. A few, lacking cruelty’s self-awareness, turn her grief into uncomfortable jokes. She has not been in Cornell long enough to become anything more defined than a body with a name.

FLAWS ⫻

Avoidance: Lynn retreats from discomfort rather than confronting it, whether that means dodging conversations, emotions, or conflict.

Emotional Suppression: She bottles feelings so tightly they emerge with a fiery explosion. This often presents as unexplained bouts of crying, fiery rage, and a burning hatred that can be impossible to put out.

Catastrophic Thinking: Her mind habitually leaps to worst-case outcomes, making even small uncertainties feel giant. This often leads to rumination and a spiral downward.

Self-Blame: Lynn internalizes guilt, accepting responsibility for things far beyond her control.

Social Withdrawal: Connection feels dangerous, leading her to isolate even when loneliness aches.

For the Serenlight family, loss has been a persistent stain that has clung to the name like a genetic disorder rather than fate. Even from a young age, she can remember how her parents spoke of her father's siblings, parents, cousins, aunts, and uncles in an increasingly past tense. Often this took the form of a health complication arriving when least expected, an accident that seemingly came out of nowhere, or even violent encounters in places that should have been safe. Thus, in the town they called home, the Serenlight name has often carried sympathy in most circles, and a visible discomfort in others. Despite the chaos of death, in disregard for the cruel hand that fate often delivered, Lynn’s family raged against this seemingly inevitable fate to build a gentle, kind, and loving start to their lives. Lynn remembers the warmth her youth had, the joy she experienced, and the happiness that was all too present.

Growing up in Oregon, in the harbor town of St. Portwell, Lynn remembers the seagulls that shouted so loudly above her head when they went to the beach, and the smell of salt that grew stronger the closer you got. Lynn remembers how the rainy season was more of a cleansing time, rather than the dull grey it ended on, and she fondly recalls the countless nights spent at the Halloween festival, and she still has all the stupid photos that she forced her parents to spend far too much money on so she could always remember her costumes and the nights they enabled. The art district was her mother's favorite place, and the two would often spend their lazy afternoons after school was out browsing and admiring the effort and talent on full display in the city. Her father, meanwhile, often took her and her siblings out to the piers with fishing rods in hand early in the mornings, and the group would work together in silence to catch a small haul. The goal was never to catch the fish; however, it was just a way for this family to spend time together every chance they got.

In school, she was not entirely popular, but she was never disliked. She was often labeled a teachers pet as she had a love of being the one to answer questions. Thus, it was no surprise that she joined the debate team as soon as she entered high school. With her talent and smarts, the school placed on the podium those two years she helmed the ship. She also had a love of music and quickly found a second home on the marching band's field with her trombone. Life was good for quite a long while here, and then the fracture came that broke it all apart.

Her father was friends with many people, and as such, her family would often be invited over for dinner. On the night in question, they were to drive almost an hour out of town into the woods to visit a close family friend. The problem was that Lynn did not want to go. In her mind, this was a punishment that felt like it was neither deserved or appropriate. All she had done earlier that day was ask if she could go hang out with her best friend, and her mom snapped and said that they already had plans. A bitter argument started, stopped, and started again. It was little more than a simple misread of emotions, combined with a teenager's anger and angst, yet the result was that their family left their house almost thirty minutes later than anticipated. And no sooner after they left the city proper did she see headlights, hear the squeal of brakes, the sound of metal crushing, and then silence when there should have been voices. The crash had stolen her parents and siblings in a single, vicious moment, leaving Lynn alone, dangling upside down in the car, with nary a scratch or bruise to show for it. She was taken to the hospital and stayed for a couple of days with a concussion, and then she was placed into an emergency foster home as the authorities tried to figure out where she went next. While this took place, she went to therapy several times a week, and progress was slow.

A few months later, she was shipped across the country to Cornell, Pennsylvania. They had gotten in contact with her last living relative, her mother's mother, and she was welcomed into her home with open arms and with true love. While it was cleaned up for the inspections, by the third night living with her grandmother, Lynn could tell that her mother's death was as hard on her grandmother as it was on her. Alcohol became a constant sight, as her mother was an only child; this meant that her grandmother had also lost almost all her living relatives, all save for Lynn. It has been two weeks since she arrived, and Lynn has yet to ask for a return to therapy. While it was starting to be helpful, the words remained stuck in her throat. Part of her yearns to be free of this burden, while another tries to convince her that she does not deserve peace after what she caused. Instead, she is slate to start a new school year at a new school in an unfamiliar place filled with unfamiliar faces, and as she drifts through the unfamiliar halls, carrying the memories of a brighter life that has all been lost. Her sophomore year held so much promise back home, and now she is forced to experience it as something new.

Tonight is a night that might change her fate. The day before school started up again an unknown number texted her, telling her about this party that might be fun. As a sort of first step to getting better, Lynn decided to go and put herself out there. She wondered what a party at a warehouse was like?

TYPE ⫻ Aberration-Afflicted

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Foresight - Evelynn can pull on her magic to see the possible futures ahead of her, yet she is beset by misfortune in the present.

THE GIFT OF FORESIGHT ⫻ Across the multiverse, certain truths do not bend. The Hound will eventually claim all adepts, monsters lurk in the shadows, and magic only brings conflict to mortals. The Serenelight bloodline is one such constant. No matter the world, no matter the version, those born into that name can awaken the Gift and Foresight and gain the Curse of Misfortune. Not all Serenlights will gain the visions, yet every one of them will experience misfortune. While it has been hard, the blood always seems to survive the misfortune long enough to pass on the curse, and potential gift, to the next generation. Typically, this gift can be awakened during times of intense emotional distress or during chaotic situations. Lynn came the very night the fabric of reality was torn asunder, and she was left defenseless during the resulting carnage.

When she activates her magic, her eyes turn a vibrant jade green. Her body becomes completely motionless, her breathing slows, and her body becomes rigid. In an instant, she is brought to the possible futures. For her, the possible future manifests as a living structure within her perception. It is a vast, branching tree of possibility where the present is the trunk, the roots are the countless paths that led to this exact moment, and above her stretches the canopy, presenting as an ever-multiplying chaotic mess of branches and leaves that are of futures yet to be decided. From here, she can activate her magic again to view a possibility and the outcome by metaphorically grabbing a branch. This is a place apart from our reality. Thus, Lynn has simply begun to call this place The Garden. While the horizon seems to stretch as far as the eye can see she can move nowhere but closer to the tree. If she tries to walk away, no matter how far or how fast she runs, nor how much the ground beneath her changes, she will move not an inch away in reality. She has a strong intuition that directs her to grab specific branches. While this intuition gets her close, she has no idea which one is the true future. This intuition manifest by bringing branches closer to the ground within reach of her arms. When she touches the branch, she witnesses the events as they happen from the moment she entered The Garden.

That’s because within these branch she witnesses possibilities. On one hand, she can quickly dart to the future and see if walking down a street is safe. The buildup to the present has already happened, so something so soon will only have one branch, or a few, branches she can reach. Thus, her ability to discern the future is relatively easy for things about to happen. But the tree does not offer clarity freely. As soon as she aims to see what will happen, fifteen, ten, even five minutes in the future becomes as much as guessing game as trying to win a game of cards. True futures will twist together with false ones, and each branch can split again with every variable. Her decisions, others’ decisions, random chance, invisible interference, the hand of god, and a million, million different possible ways to interfere with what the truth is. The sheer volume is dizzying as each vision becomes more of a ‘could be’ versus the certainty that the immediate future offers.

Interpretation thus is everything, and her interpretation is imperfect. There will only ever be one true future, and often this is hidden in what she sees. Even if everything does not play out exactly as she has seen it, when you have as many variables in play that can affect the future eventually they all can tend to agree on the direction they want to travel as they grow.
When she is in the possible future and in front of the tree, time moves differently for her. She can view tens of possibilities in the time it would take to speak a sentence. As well, she can remember the possibilities with a peculiar clarity, able to recite what she saw with an often ominous delivery.

THE CURSE OF MISFORTUNE ⫻ While the Gift of Foresight is a strong, if unreliable, ability, it comes with a high cost. Evelynn is burdened by the Curse of Misfortune. The Gift of Misfortune is either a cosmic balancing force thrust on her bloodline to limit the spread of the seers, or just a natural affect when one views things that are yet to come. Either way, Evelynn is cursed by misfortune. Misfortune comes at the bloodline in many forms. Sometimes, a child is born with a rare, genetic defect that they simply lucked out on when they acquired it. Other times, a falling object will adjust its trajectory to land on them when it would have landed safely away. And death is always lurking one step behind them, ready to send a drunk driver their way, or cause the foundation to fail from underneath them, or cause a normally safe weapon to discharge when pointed in their direction, and so on.

The Curse of Misfortune has claimed almost every last Serenelight throughout their family's existence. It is not something that can be dismissed with a cleansing spell, or protected against, or warded away. It is simply a fact of life for this bloodline. Even before reality was torn asunder, this part of their universal constant hunted them, without giving them their foresight. Which ancient did this family piss off to earn such disdain? Or is this the price of entry to The Garden, one that has to be paid in advance and every day after admission?

LIMITS ⫻

Lynn never sees the future as a certainty, only the possibilities that stretch as far as they do tall. The visions show what might happen, not what will. False futures can appear just as vivid as truthful ones, forcing her to guess which branches hold the weight of truth.

The further she peers, the longer she must remain trapped in her trance-like state, leaving her physically vulnerable. As well, extended use fractures her focus, blurring the boundary between vision and reality, present and possibility.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Evelynn’s foresight demands complete physical vulnerability. When she steps into The Garden, her body stiffens, becomes unresponsive, and is essentially defenseless. She cannot move, speak, or react to stimuli, and any force applied to her during this time has full effect. If she is pushed, restrained, injured, or killed while viewing possible futures, the vision does not end automatically to protect her. Foresight does not safeguard the present; it abandons it. The time distortion within The Garden creates mental strain. Evelynn can observe multiple futures in seconds, but her human mind still needs to process and remember them. Prolonged use leads to temporal dissonance: confusion about past events, what she just saw, and what is happening now. After heavy foresight use, she may hesitate, react prematurely, or behave as if events are already decided when they are not.

The Curse of Misfortune is not just random bad luck; it is a targeted collapse in probability. Events that would normally resolve safely instead turn out in the worst way possible for her. This doesn’t mean impossible things happen—just that chance consistently works against her. Safety margins fail, coincidences accumulate, and unlikely accidents happen often enough to maintain constant pressure. Planning does not avoid the curse; it only changes how it manifests. The more Evelynn uses foresight, the more likely misfortune is to strike in the present. Periods of intense Garden use are followed by clusters of accidents, close calls, or cascading failures. Avoiding foresight doesn’t remove the curse, but frequent use speeds it up—danger gets compressed into shorter intervals.

Importantly, foresight doesn’t reveal the Curse as a separate force. She can see outcomes where things go wrong, but not why, in a way that allows her to fully prevent them. Attempts to circumvent misfortune often just shift the trigger. Dodging one falling object puts her in the path of another. Avoiding one location puts her near a different failure point.

Because the Curse is bloodline-bound and all-encompassing, there’s no “safe future” to find—only futures where death comes sooner or later. The Garden can show her how to survive the next minute, hour, or day, but not a future free of misfortune. Long-term foresight inevitably leads to decay, exhaustion, or fatal convergence, making prolonged planning mentally damaging.

Lynn always has a pack of high-quality treats in her purse or otherwise on her body. She will not share..

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Kersten just wants to have a good time. Why rush through life? There's a lot to enjoy in the here-and-now, even in Cornwell. They've got their greenhouse and their plants to take care of, they've got weed to have some fun, and tobacco whenever they want a different kind of buzz, and plenty of friends to hang out with. So the whole town getting swallowed by the Pit is really a huge bummer, in their opinion. They'd really like it to kinda stop doing that.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ You got to be good to one another. Live and let live, make love, not war, sharing is caring, free love, and all that jazz. In the end, we're all humans sharing the same planet, so why fight? We should put all those resources and energy into helping those in need, instead. Kersten is a big proponent for free love and universal understanding between people, and has a deep hatred for any form of discrimination or oppression. And the cops, of course. People call them a hippie for it (and the drugs) and all they can answer is; well, the hippies were right about all that stuff, no?

SECRETS ⫻ Well, it's not really a secret that they grow their own weed (and even less so that they smoke it) but it's still very illegal, so they made sure to keep it hidden from the relevant authorities. They've even got a whole emergency plan set-up to destroy and hide any remains of their weed plants should the police ever get their hands on a search warrant.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Gender's, like, a completely made up thing, you feel? Guys and gals are all just people in the end. If someone's your type, then it doesn't matter what they are.

FEARS ⫻ They're not usually the kind to fret about much, but sometimes they worry that their friends only really hang out with them because of what they can give them (mostly weed) and not because of who they are as a person. And other times they worry about their future, and wonder if they'll be able to find a decent job in today's economy.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ Kersten is a nice kid, but they don't seem to have much of a future. People their age generally like them for their laid-back personality and endless supply of weed they hand out for free (though never the really good stuff, they keep that for themselves). There's a reason people call them "Kushten" after all. Better stay clear of their edibles though, you never know how strong those are gonna be.

Adults are a bit more mixed. Some think they're a fine enough kid, others also get their weed from them, and old ladies often end up chatting begonias with them. But most look at them with pity. To these people, Kersten seems to be headed right for a very mediocre life of living in their parent's basement. A select few view them with a lot more animosity: being openly queer tends to attract the attention of a few assholes.

FLAWS ⫻ Kersten has a problem with taking things seriously, and lacks any kind of long-term goals or plans. They can come across as flippant, and they're often too stuck in the present to really plan anything very far ahead. They've been fine just kind of coasting by, up until now, but adult life and responsibilities are going to be a rude awakening. Their drug use is also becoming kind of problematic; they haven't been sober for over 48 hours in well over a year, and that can't be healthy.

Kersten Johanna Bach, fifth of their name, was born on a beautiful autumn day at the Cornwell General Hospital. As their family's first, and only, child, they were named after their father, Kersten Johanna Bach the 4th, as has been the Bach family tradition for the past 5 generations.

Their father was born and raised in California, where he spent most of his life. He went to college for accounting, where he began hanging out with the counterculture college kids, and experimenting with drugs. It was there he met Kersten's mother, a fellow business student, and though the beginning of their relationship was rocky, they soon fell in love, and got married a few years later. Kersten's mother wanted to move back to her hometown, Cornwell, and their father gladly followed, bringing a few of his "habits" with him.

Kersten was raised in a very liberal household. Their father, not wanting to be a bad example but also not wanting his kid to go behind his back for drugs, was open about his own occasional drug use as well as the risks associated with it. He was very much a "I'd rather you get it from me than a rando on the street" kind of parent. Their mother, in turn, was firm in teaching her child the importance of kindness and equality.

At 12, Kersten began to get really into gardening and horticulture. Their father was already pretty handy in the garden, and they had a small greenhouse, where he grew a few pot plants. But they quickly surpassed even him in skill and passion, and in a few years the backyard would be filled by dozens of potted flowers and bushes of ornamental plants. Kerten's greatest pride was, and still is, the meticulously maintained white tea rose bush on the front yard.

At 14, they discovered an interest in both not being a girl anymore, and trying out that weed stuff they heard so much about. This... did not come as much of a surprise to their parents, who had long spotted the signs. True to his word, Kersten Sr. let his child try out weed in a safe and controlled environment, while his wife made sure no one would dare hurt her vulnerable child during their transition. And luckily for Kersten, they managed to avoid all the kerfuffle that comes with legally changing one's name; having a unisex name is handy like that!

At 16, they had practically taken over the greenhouse out back, and were growing their own cannabis and tobacco, just like their father used to do before them. And now that they're 17, they're well known amongst their peers as the source of some of the cleanest and freshest weed around town. And even if it's not the best bits of the plant, hell, they give it out for free! So no one really complains.

This has made them very popular with a certain crowd, and relatively well-known, or at least tolerated, by most other highschoolers. They might be a dork, but they're also the dork with all the free weed, so better not shove them into the lockers too much, you know?

The warehouse party is just one of the many similar party they've gotten used to attending. They've got baggies of the mid-tier stuff to hand out to friends, some of homegrown oregano to hand out to those that piss them off, and a big pan of not-too-strong brownies to share. It's going to be a gooood night...

TYPE ⫻ Agent

ABSTRACTION ⫻ The A-maize-ing Bong on the Cob (or simply the Corn Pipe if you hate fun)

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ A tacky corn-shaped novelty glass bong. When reality in Cornwell fractured, it slipped through the cracks from another world, right into Kersten's lap. Its shape changes between wielders to better fit them, but it always remains a tool for consuming herbs.

The Corn Pipe is an artifact rich in green and orange lux that gives its wielder the ability to channel the powers of various herbs and plants, whether through amplifying pre-existing medicinal properties, or by making substantial their symbolic meanings (i.e. a plant symbolizing strength could make someone physically stronger or tougher). The plant's properties will take effect when their smoke, which the Corn Pipe produces in much greater quantity than is normal, is inhaled; it doesn't have to be from first-hand smoke, either. It also gives its wielder the ability to identify any naturally occurring plant in their reality, and to instinctively sense the general meaning ascribed to a plant, though not necessarily the exact effect that will be produced when smoked. The wielder is naturally resistant to the Pipe's smoke, but not immune.

Currently known herbal mixtures with interesting and useful effects are; dried poppies or chamomile for a soporific smoke; a mix of thistle and amaranth for greater physical resilience; fennel and oak leaves for increased physical strength; echinacea and/or sage for healing injuries; feverfew and yarrow to treat fevers and lessen pain; snapdragons for a confusion and illusion-inducing smoke; eyebright and St. John's worth to calm and clear one's mind; cypress and wormwood for a depressogen smoke; trillium to induce a brief bout of bisexuality; and cannabis for getting high. Poisonous plants could be used for offensive purposes... but the risk of poisoning themselves along the way has deterred Kersten from trying it out.

Kersten tried using the leftover magic bong water to water one of their houseplants once, out of curiosity. Turns out it greatly stimulates plant growth due to trace amounts of green lux. Neat, if not especially useful.

LIMITS ⫻ Using most the Corn Pipe's powers requires physically smoking the herbs with it acting as a channeler. That means packing the bowl, lighting it, and pulling a good lungful. This both takes time, making switching herbs in a hurry difficult, and means needing to have both the herbs and the Pipe on hand. It's thus most effective when Kersten has had some prep time.

Using it also means physically breathing in the smoke somehow. Should Kersten wish to use its powers against a monster, they'd either have to somehow trick it into taking a hit, or take a hit themselves to breathe out a large cloud of second hand smoke on them, which would also leave them vulnerable to the smoke's effect.

The smoke's effects are strong, but usually short-lived. For exemple, a normal human inhaling poppy smoke would fall dead asleep in less than a minute, but would wake up only a few minutes later. The same time frame applies to snapdragon-induced confusion. Enhancing one's might will last for an hour or two at most, and the enhancements themselves will not make someone supernaturally strong or protect them from deathly blows. Healing smoke will heal you very quickly, but continuous hits are needed for anything worse than just scratches. Only yarrow seems to have truly long-lasting effects.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Kersten’s Abstraction relies heavily on preparation and physical interaction, rendering it slow and cumbersome in sudden or chaotic situations. Using the Corn Pipe involves packing the bowl, lighting it, and inhaling a substantial amount of smoke, which takes time and leaves Kersten vulnerable during the process ritual.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ To graduate highschool, obviously! Ella hopes to scrape a good enough grade to actually get into university with a sports scholarship (because being great at all those sports isn’t enough, supposedly). Though now that she’s discovered magic and kindled, another dream that was once just a fantasy has come to the forefront of her mind. She could be a real magical girl. A hero that saves people and maybe even the world!

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ There’s always light in the darkness, no matter how difficult things seem. Ella believes in optimism and always moving forward even in the worst circumstances. Sometimes you have to become that light for other people, and help them see the good in the world. Ella literally thinks in the power of friendship and that by working together you can do anything. She’s always trying to do her best by other people, aiming to motivate and support so others can live their best lives. But she also believes that sometimes a good punch is needed to bring someone round to doing the right thing.

SECRETS ⫻ Ella’s an open book, and doesn’t really have any secrets. Honestly, she’s probably too open about things she should keep to herself. Don’t tell Ella your secrets, it's a bad idea.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Ella is openly a lesbian, something she realised a few years ago. She’s attracted to women and feminine aligning nonbinary people… In theory. She’s yet to actually like someone who’s real to the point she’d want to date them. She’s on the aroace spectrum, though this isn’t something she knows anything about.

FEARS ⫻ Her favourite manga getting adapted into an anime only to get cancelled after one season. Her favourite manga getting cancelled early. Her favourite anime or manga getting poorly localised and misunderstood. People on the internet grossly mischaracterising her favourite character. She’s also scared of needles. She fears one day not being there for her friends, and being unable to protect them. That it’ll be her fault that something happens to someone she cares about because she wasn’t strong enough to stop it.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ If Ella wasn’t openly a massive weeb (and lesbian), she’d probably be one of the most popular girls in school thanks to her friendly, incredibly upbeat nature. Thankfully for the actual popular girls, she’s loud and proud about her nerdiness. This makes her reputation a bit more of a mixed bag, because she can just be weird. Plus it’s highschool, weebs are very bulliable. Not that she is. Ella will kick anyone who bullies her or her friends. Generally, Ella is seen as someone friendly and approachable. She’s incredibly loud and boisterous, meaning that everyone in school knows her, whether they like her or not. She’s well liked among the nerds, and even the more gloomy outcasts for her friendliness towards them. The normal students? Not so much, they tend to laugh at her.

FLAWS ⫻ Ella can be incredibly overwhelming. She’s loud, constantly happy and overly friendly. This can come across as pushy when she talks to people who just don’t want to be talked to- though she’s not trying to be pushy. She’s often completely oblivious to the social boundaries most people just understand, and doesn’t notice cues that tell her someone’s uncomfortable. In fact she’s not all that good at reading reactions or emotions of others at all, beyond the obvious. She has a tendency to say shit that just isn’t appropriate to say to someone she isn’t close to. She’s also very scatterbrained and easily distractible. Concentrating on something she isn’t interested in just doesn’t happen. This affects her relationships, but has a more major affect on school. Also while she’s not quick to anger or violent, she has no qualms about punching back someone who hit her first- or someone who’s mean to her friends.

The start of Ella’s life was quite mundane. She was the second child of two overworked but trying their best parents. Her parents tried their hardest with both her and her older brother, but they didn’t have the time to go along with all her whims. While Ella was always bright and boisterous, she struggled to connect with the other children her age. She didn’t understand social cues and was treated as being weird, even bullied once kids got old enough to bully. So while she was desperate from friendship, she tended to have to turn to books for company. Even in the sports she did

Then, one day her life changed. At age twelve she was given proper access to the internet, and stumbled upon this forum post about something called anime. She decided to give it a try… and discovered a whole new world! Ella fell in love with anime, spending every free moment watching it. Her favourite was Sailor Moon and other magical girl anime, but she tried out all sorts of genres. She wanted to watch everything she could!

Anime gave her a way to form a connection, and something to emulate. While she was still incredibly weird and often too much, she figured out how to channel her friendliness in a way that actually worked. And most nerds just weren’t outgoing like she was! So she became a bit of a beacon for all the outcasts her age in town, forcefully dragging the ones she could to be her friends.

Things were as good as they could be as a nerd going through a small town school. She’d been running and working out for a while, but in highschool she actually got on both the track team and the softball team. She’d solidified her little group of friends, and made it her duty to be friendly to all the outcasts! To varying degrees of success, of course… But failure would never deter her!

She even managed to convince her friends to go along to the party at the old warehouse. Nerds deserved to let go and drink too, after all! She’d beat up any bullies that said otherwise. And it was fun until a monster right out of a horror anime appeared. Holy shit. Monsters were real.

Not just monsters, but magic. Putting her life on the line to protect her friends so they could get out, Ella felt a surge of confidence which led to a burst of magic in her. Guided by instinct, and hours upon hours of watching Sailor Moon, she dramatically spun and posed, going through her own magical girl transformation.

The transformation probably caused more harm than good, distracting people on their way out. The green lux she managed to eke out with it enhanced her durability enough that she didn’t die when the monster threw her against the wall. So, a win for her! The creature fled in the end and she vowed to be stronger the next time.

In the time since, Ella has been using every spare moment to train with her magic, trying to develop spells to help fight the monsters that have started to slip through the cracks. Because if anyone’s going to save the town, it’s her. She’s a magical girl now, after all.

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Green, Orange & Red Lux. Channeler: a sailor moon wand replica

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Inspired by all of her favourite magical girl anime, Ella has developed a series of spells to become a magical girl herself. She has her magical girl transformation spells, a series of light and colour based spells and enhancement based spells.



LIMITS ⫻The limit of all of Ella’s spells is that she needs to be in her magical girl form to use them. This is a mental block she could overcome, but won’t.



WEAKNESSES ⫻ Ella’s magical gay girl Abstraction relies heavily on her Magical Metamorphosis; she cannot activate her spells until her transformation is complete. This process takes about thirty seconds, during which she is vulnerable, bright, and unable to act. Her Prismatic Powers are also limited. While her Super Prism Kick is powerful, it has a short range and leaves her leg exposed, increasing the risk of injury if used repeatedly against hard surfaces or opponents.

Her spells themselves have exploitable fragility. Prism Princess Daylight Blade, though sharp and magical, is inherently delicate; if it strikes a reflective surface, the blade is disrupted, and strong impacts can shatter its rainbow light, rendering it useless. Prismatic Sun Flash is similarly hazardous; its intense beams can backfire, blinding Ella if reflected or misaligned. Close-range combat is particularly risky, as most of her spells require proximity or extended casting sequences, leaving her exposed to counterattacks.

Also, she's weak against Uncles.

Ella always keeps a large number of brightly coloured objects on her - most often tons of bracelets or hair clips.

Ella’s second favourite anime after Sailor Moon is Revolutionary Girl Utena, but she doesn’t talk about it as openly because it’s darker.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Zofia wants out of Cornell. Out of the final descent into the hell that is a rust belt town's decline, out of the perpetual boredom that keeps her inside with their animes, and they want to get away from their role as their parents' keeper. Ever since they were old enough to remember, they have taken care of both parents, and they would like nothing more than to be the priority for once in their own life.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Freedom is as important as food, water, and shelter. A caged animal grows frail behind bars, and the same is true for humans. When you put people in little boxes and expect them to be the perfect cog in the machine, the human spirit suffers. If you give people the freedom to express themselves, to be themselves, the world as a whole is better for it. Thus, they will always fight for their right to be themselves, for the right of their friends to be weird and free, and for the ability of everyone around them to be wholly themselves.

SECRETS ⫻ Zofia comes from a conservative, but loving family, and as such they have thus far kept their lesbian nature and their non-binary identity to themself. Their family is not overtly hateful; if anything, they are overly loving. Yet when they consistently vote for groups that aim to deny your existence without hesitation or concern because they are good for the economy, you begin to wonder where that love ends. Thus, in public and at home, they keep this secret, as they would rather keep their loving family for now than push for her own freedom.

They also hide most of their sadness. They are the rock that their friends are allowed to crash on, and they do not want others to do the same for them. They have friends who would be more than willing to be there to help, to allow Zofia to open up, yet they will never be willing to do that out of a fear that they are only as worthy as they are strong mentally.

They have flirted with suicidal ideations and have nearly attempted it once before. They had the blades on their wrists, but could not pull through. Still, if someone were to discover their diary, they would see they not only have the desire, but a plan as well.

They go by their middle name Nora. Every teacher, friend, and community member knows them as Nora. They keep their first name a secret as they were worried when they were younger that someone would bully them for it. They do like their first name, but this lie has gone on for so long they wonder what benefit they will have to revealing the truth.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Zofia is quite the fan of the ladies.

FEARS ⫻ Zofia fears that they belong in Cornell and will never escape it. The idea of being trapped in this depressing small town, year after year, fills her with a certain dread that was not matched until the monsters appeared. They watched their father fall deeper into the depressive habits that have defined his fatherhood, and their mother joined him in the rot. Thus, Zofia fears the same stagnation that killed what their parents could have been. The idea of being trapped in Cornell, of never escaping this small town, unsettles their mind. They fear the future where they must remain hidden from the world, and joins the rot.
They also fear rejection from the people whose approval they pretend not to need. While they will pretend they don't hear the bullies when they target them, they do. And sometimes they wish they could have been just another girl, one popular enough they did not get an anxiety attack on the walk to school, and not too popular that they got roped into the problem itself.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ Zofia is known as a fighter. They will fight for what they believe is right, fight for their friends, and fight to ensure that things improve. They are also known as the girl who has had to take care of two destitute parents who do little besides bring in enough money to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.

FLAWS ⫻ Zofia is held back by their inability to ask for help. They’d rather shoulder their own burden than risk alienating their friends. Thus, they tend to be a ticking bomb of emotions that threaten to burst at even the slightest issue or problem.

They also do not apply themself to their full ability. They tend to keep a lot of their mental strength in reserve in order to deal with whatever mess awaits them at home.

Some stories start during the present time, while others start near the end before they head back to the start, and Zofia’s story truly starts before their birth. Deep within the city of Warsaw, her father had made a terrible mistake. He was a member of the Czarne Wilki, known internationally as the Black Wolves. This was a local but powerful gang that peddled in drugs, weapons, and lives. In this group, he was an enforcer of some renown and he was steadily climbing the ranks of the crime family. During one of his many jobs, he made the mistake of using too much concussive persuasion on a mark and killed them. This triggered a localized fight between the gangs, and to make peace, his higher-ups were to offer him on a silver platter to the rival group. His father fled, with his newlywed wife in tow, across Europe. Eventually, they obtained a fake passport in France, and used the last of their money to fly all the way across the ocean to America, landing in the city that never sleeps itself, New York City. The two stayed for six months before they discovered that the wife was pregnant, and that the Black Wolves had eyes and ears even in this city. Using the last of their money, they fled further west until they settled in Cornell, Pennsylvania, and bought a house with what little they had left. Shortly thereafter, Zofia was born and this family began to try and make things work.

Yet despite their best effort to make the small house a home, there was never enough. They never had enough money to keep both the gas and the electricity on at the same time. Nor could they afford to always feed either themselves or the baby, or buy new clothes for themselves or diapers for Zofia. Her father tried, yet he could not get the images of the high life he lived out of his mind. He could see the champagne in front of him one moment, before the crying baby pulled him out of the memory back into the present horror. Zofia’s mother also suffered. She had friends, family, and a community back home that built her up and expected the world of her. She was a talented singer, dancer, and pianist. She used to play at the many clubs that dotted Warsaw, and she now had no outlet for her wants and desires, nor could she ever hope of being the star that she was born to be. Thus, by the time that Zofia could walk and talk, the two effectively checked out. Sure, she had her needs met as the two adjusted to their new reality, but she could tell even from a young age that she was neglected.

As the childhood years dragged on, Zofia developed her English skills and helped her father with his fledgling business. He had forged the certificates needed to do electrical work, and had some skill with the tools of the trade back home, and thus he used Zofia to help translate, communicate with prospective clients, and to haggle on his behalf. Yet when they got home, her father would collapse into a bottle and the couch and numb his mind with alcohol. Eventually, they would start school, where they were introduced to the love of their life: anime. It was a simple day in pre-school when they saw a girl wearing a Sailor Moon shirt. After learning what it was, they were invited over to watch, and when they saw what was on the screen, they became obsessed. They quickly convinced her family to buy a new TV, and move the old one into her room, and they began to watch whatever they could, and theytoo disappeared into the screen like her parents. However, they could not be fully immersed like their parents. They had to clean up after the mess they made. They had to ensure they did not drown in their vomit. They had to ensure that the stained clothes got washed before their parents got up to go to work. They had to cook dinner, otherwise they wouldn’t eat. They had to do everything. And they had to do it every day.

From cooking, to cleaning, to the dishes, to the laundry, to reminding her parents to do their taxes, to paying the bills, to pushing her parents to get out of bed in the morning to go to work. Zofia did it all. They had to learn to not only be self-reliant, but also a self-starter on all the chores around the house. While their parents were always thankful and pushed themselves to try to be better, all it would take was one setback at work, or at home, or anywhere for them to fall back down to the bottom and take months to crawl back out. Zofia kept finding relief from this perpetual nightmare through their anime, manga, and the online communities that discussed both. Online, they called themself ‘scarletnorthwind’, based off the character Scarlet El Vandimion, and with that name they were able to escape from the constant chaos that was real life. They discussed their theories, built up a community, and began to branch out and discover more of who they were through these online spaces. This confidence they gained eventually transferred to real life.

In their freshman year Zofia was a target of a bully. This bully was an upperclassman who simply reveled in the discomfort he could cause. One day, during lunch, they took the main course from their school lunch. Normally, on any other day, Zofia would let this slide. They would bring their food in from home, which they made themself. Usually it would be a Kanapki, but sometimes it was something more fanc,y like the leftover pierogies from dinner the previous night. This day, however, was Friday. School Pizza Friday. The one day of the week they would spend what little money they had to buy that terrible, yet somehow delicious pizza, that defied all logic. The one day out of the week that Zofia looked forward to the most when it came to lunch time. When the bully took this pizza, and walked over to the bully table, Zofia decided enough was enough. They took their metal tray, walked over behind them, and smashed it over their head. While it was not done as hard as they thought, it was still a decent ding that filled the lunch hall. They grabbed the pizza on the tray beneath the bully and walked back to their spot with their own dented tray. They were suspended for a week. Their parents were surprisingly proud—some bullshit about always defending yourself from those who wanted to hurt you.

The rest of their freshman year went by in a breeze. They would have verbal fights with certain people, make some great friends, and develop a desire to pursue their theater skills while in school. They joined the choir, band, and even started to push themselves academically which is a massive uphil battle. Tonight, however, a friend pushed them to go to a party at the warehouse. Their first party! For some reason, a sense of optimism fell over their mind as they walked through the doors.

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Green Lux - their channeler is their pendant of Saint Stanislaus, which they wear around their neck. Zofia can open wounds on their body and use the blood to either pierce, cut, and cover a target before the blood itself detonates with concussive and bladed force.

PENDANT OF SAINT STANISLAUS ⫻ The Pendant was a gift from her parents when they were young. It was said that it would bring her great luck in life, and when she woke up from the dream that reality was it became their channeler. The way it works is when Zofia needs to use their magic, the Pendant acts as a conduit for their magic through their body. It does this by implanting itself into her skin, burrowing deep until the blood itself makes contact with it's surface. From here, the pendant constantly pushes their lux through their blood which charges it for use in all of their spells. Once they deactivate their spells, the pendant is rejected from their body.

HEMATIC LANCE ⫻ Nora channels their magic through her lucky charm, which causes both her wrists to open. They then pulls blood from the wounds and press the blood between their palms. Once the blood is in their palm, they then use their green lux to continuously compress the blood into a continuously more compact size. Eventually, once they have reached the point that they determine, they will push a beam of blood out through the gaps between their fingertips in a singular, fine beam. The blood beam travels fast and hits hard. It can cut through cloth with ease, and can even threaten the body of a target if they put sufficient time into increasing the power of the shot. The power of the eventual shot is determined by how long they hold the compression and how much of their lux they push into it.

CRIMSON PETAL BARRAGE ⫻ Instead of pulling their blood into the palms of their hands, Zofia can instead disperse it into the air around them in the form of razor-thin, petal-like blades of blood. These petals will orbit their body for a brief moment and will launch at the target that they aim for. Once fired, each petal will slice through the air and attempt to slice into whatever they hit. Zofi can direct them to curve slightly so it is possible for their projectiles to swarm a target, hitting all over on the attack. Each petal is surprisingly pretty to look at. Each second, they channel this ability a dozen petals are generated. As well, each Petal will have a tendril of blood that connects to their wrists, that sustain the petal before they harden and fire.

SANQUINE DETONATION ⫻ All of her ranged attacks, from their Crimson Petal Barrage to the Hematic Lance, are primers for her finishing move. All blood that is shot or seeded onto surfaces, or opponents are charged with their Green Lux and can be triggered remotely. When triggered, the blood violently expands and ruptures outward with rapid intensity and hardened spikes. The explosive expansion can cause concussive damage, and the spikes can rend flesh, destabilize footing, and turn a fight. The key is the amount of blood coating a surface or an individual. The less blood, the less power they have to wield. Yet this spell carries a heavy toll. To use it effectively, they must coat the target in large amounts of their blood, and the more blood they spend to coat it, the more they run the risk of feeling the effects of bloodloss.

BLOOD LOSS ⫻ When Zofia expends too much of their own blood, they enter a state known as Blood Loss. In Blood Loss, their body rapidly regenerates their own internal blood supply at the cost of their consciousness. Their wrists will heal, their body will begin to heal other wounds, but they will be unable to move or defend themselves for ten minutes. Afterwards, they will rise like Jesus on the third day. Blood loss does not fully recharge them, and instead, it will replenish just enough to get back up after the fight and will not help much during one.

LIMITS ⫻ They are limited by, namely, their own blood supply. As such, if they are not eating full, nutritious meals, they may find that they are firing a gun with half the bullets. As such, they will need to be smart with how and when they use their magic.

The force of their magic is on the weaker side for their two ranged spells and stronger with their detonation ability. Thus, they will need to be strategic and use their magic thinking two steps ahead of an enemy. A giant pool of blood primed for detonation is useless if an enemy is not standing in it. Using their brain is not a strength of theirs so they will be challenged to use these abilities to their full extent.

Even before they hit the Blood Loss stage Zofia will still suffer from the effects of normal blood loss. They will be easily confused, lose strength, and could even faint without the benefits of Blood Loss.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Zofia’s Abstraction is intricately connected to her own body and blood, making her physically vulnerable in ways that most opponents can exploit. Any damage that reduces her blood immediately weakens her catalogue. Overusing her abilities risks triggering Blood Loss, during which her body regenerates at the expense of her consciousness, leaving her incapacitated for ten minutes and defenseless. Even before reaching this stage, blood depletion causes her to feel dizzy, confused, and weaker.

Anyyyything else?

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Tyler is a one-dimensional man. His goal in life is to win. Whether that is playing the game he supposedly loves, in the classroom, or in every other avenue, if there is a way for someone to come out on top, Tyler will push to be that person.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ If you are not giving one hundred and ten percent of your effort, you are not trying hard enough. If Tyler can wake up at five in the morning, hit the gym, go for a run, eat breakfast, go to school, head to practice, head back to the gym, hit the film room with dinner, finish homework, and study for a test all in the same day, then so can everyone lazy enough to not put in the work. There is only one person to blame for failure and that is yourself.

SECRETS ⫻ While they are good at playing football, they are not sure they like it. While they are as gifted as any top prospect, he feels his heart isn’t fully in the game, nor was it ever. He knows deep down that his father pushed him into this life because of his own injury that took it from him, and no matter what, his father is not currently willing to lose the love of the game twice in one life. Thus, Tyler pushes himself a little too hard at times. Not just to prove to himself that he can, but a small part hopes for a way out through an injury. If he were to have his way, he might like to try the theater or maybe see if there is an artistic side hidden under his physical gifts.

Tyler is also much more intelligent than he lets on. While he always tries to be at the top of the class and consistently tests well, he never lets it be known. His friends all heard about how he barely passed a tough test that Mr. Douchebag made him take, but in truth, he scored a hundred without trying. His 4.0 is good, but his teachers are pushing for him to take classes that might push that weighted score up. If his friends learned how smart he was, he might be treated differently.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Tyler is a big fan of the ladies.

FEARS ⫻ That all this work he has put into himself to be the best quarterback in the state will be for nothing. He knows all too well that there is a jump from one level to the next in terms of skill and work required for success. He has handled the jump from pop warner, to middle school, to high school without much worry. Yet the next jump is the biggest one yet. Each team is filled with people who were some of the best on their own team. The third-string quarterback was once setting records for his school just a couple of years prior, and now he’s holding a clipboard because it was proven he did not have what it takes. What if that is his future? A scholarship that lasts only as long as the illusions his play enables.

Tyler also fears that he is not doing something that he loves, and that it is already too late to back out now. His teammates have it in their heads that with that cannon for an arm, they will fill that trophy case with at least two more. His father is already sending his tape to his prospective schools. The town itself is beginning to herald the arrival of a new superstar. If he were to quit, now, after all that he has done, and all that others have begun to expect of him, he’d never be able to show his face around town again.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ The Golden Star with the Golden Cannon Arm. Everywhere he goes, those who pay attention to sports know who he is. He walks with a swagger, and he is constantly told stories about how his game was inspiring to them. That is, until you talk to someone who has been the target of his bullying. To them, Tyler is a jerk. An asshole. The one who thinks far too highly of their own ability.

FLAWS ⫻ Perfectionism: Tyler has impossibly high standards for himself. Anything less than flawless execution feels like a failure. Where others saw the perfect game at State's last season, he saw five passes he left on the field.

Overtraining: He struggles to recognize that even he, himself, has limits. Any rest feels like a weakness that needs to be exercised out of his body, so he often pushes himself well past exhaustion and pain. He has been lucky he hasn’t hurt himself; this luck will not last long.

Control Freak: Tyler tends to be in charge at all times, whether on the field or off. He finds it difficult to trust others to handle their roles in a situation without his interference.

Emotional Avoidance Rather than confronting any doubt, fear, or dissatisfaction with football, he buries it under his work and his training. The pressure is building, and if he does not confront these insecurities, he might explode.

Deflection: Tyler will outright refuse to take success on the chin. He tries to hide with false modesty and tries to gaslight others to fit his narrow view of what caused the win.

Fear of Vulnerability: A genuine connection is like oil to Tyler’s water. Opening up, revealing what he truly feels and how he is currently feeling, feels like surrendering his strength. He is rarely emotionally honest, and this has caused him to miss out on the close friendships he sees all around him.

Risky decisions: Tyler is willing, often unconsciously, to flirt with damage and harm. He actively ignores injuries or pushes himself past limits, all to escape the pressure of his father or prove how strong he is.

Football.

For some people, football is a simple enjoyment. On Saturday, you watch your favorite college team go to war, and then Sunday you do the same for the NFL. You buy the merch, you go to the games, and at the water cooler on Monday morning, in the office, you have a nice and easy conversation starter that you can whip out with Dave from accounting.

For the Fox family, Football is much more than that. Football is a way of life. From his earliest memories, Tyler remembers little other than the work he has put in to get to where he is today. All across the living room mantle in his parents' home, the fruit of these early years is present. Various trophies, ribbons, and other accolades from nearly ten full years of football are placed with the expert precision of a father who is all too proud of how good their son is. Tyler has played football since he was five years old, been practicing since he was three, and he is confident that his father made his wife watch game breakdowns with him while she was pregnant with Tyler. One might wonder why a father would push their young, first son into so much football so young, yet you would only need to look at the surname to figure out the truth. The Fox name is closely associated with James Fox, the former star running back of the Pittsburgh Steelers, whose career was cut tragically short due to a massive leg injury that he suffered at the end of his sophomore season within the league. The Cornell Steelheads count him among their hall of fame, and there are rumors that they were planning on changing the name of the stadium to honor him before the injury.

Thus, above everything else, football is a constant memory for Tyler. He does not have a memory of playing soldiers in the yard outside with his friends. Instead, all he can remember is football camps, two-a-days, practice, drills, training with dad, training with dad’s friends, private coaching, and time in the gym. This has helped him succeed in this profession and build the foundation for a possible run at the college level, yet this has done little to silence a nagging thought that he is making a mistake by dedicating his life to just one thing. When he hit the fifth grade, he argued with his dad because he saw how his two younger siblings were treated. Sophia was allowed to do whatever she wanted. She was encouraged to explore all her hobbies and to make changes as she moved forward in life. His younger brother, meanwhile, could do no wrong in his father’s eyes as he struggled to play teeball. If they were allowed to fail and explore what they wanted to, why couldn’t he? Winning can silence many things, and in his fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth grade years, the championships he won did much to push him back on the trajectory his father picked for him. The way his friends chanted his name, the way the coaches flung him praise, and the look on his fathers face as he held those trophies was the final lock on any desire he had to explore who he is further. At least, it did for a time.

When he got to high school, he was dismayed to learn that he was not allowed to try out for the varsity team. Freshmen, no matter how good, were assigned to their own team. Despite him playing lights out, he was not allowed to move forward until his sophomore year. The setbacks did not end there. When he arrived at camp, he was told that the team was the current quarterback's team, a senior named Chad. Despite being the better player, it took a minor injury to Chad to get onto the field, and when he did, there was no denying him his birthright going forward. Tyler led his team on a sensational run that culminated with the school's first state championship since his father played. The high from that game carried him through the rest of the year. Scouts took notice, and the buzz around campus is that next year, if he can repeat, he might be a heavily recruited prospect entering his final year of school.

While he is normally not one to party, his friends are dragging him to one to celebrate his birthday. Tonight will be a fun night to let off a little steam and refocus his energy for the next season.

TYPE ⫻ Adept - Purple Lux

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Purple Lux, channeler is the championship ring on his finger. Field General is his ability to swap the position of any two objects within his vision with each other.

Field General ⫻ This is Tyler’s ability to be the general on the field. He has a keen awareness of objects, people, and other items within a thirty-foot radius around him. He can channel his magic, put his magic out into the world, and consciously select two objects. With a flip of the wrist, the two objects will swap their place in the world. They will take no damage from the transition, they will not suffer any ill effects, and they will just be in a different place. This can be as simple as two people swapping their place, and as complicated as him throwing a football towards a wall and swapping it with another person. To activate his power, he must first get into the right headspace. He must visualize the field before him and have a clear mental picture of where the two objects are. Without a clear visualization, he will be unable to activate the spell. Then, he must push his magic through his ring, which causes the gem to glow a dull purple color. Finally, once this is complete, he can pick the two objects like one picks which entree they want off a menu, and flicks the wrist with his channeler. The two objects will swap places in an instant without any further input needed, and maintain the other objects relative velocity.

LIMITS ⫻ First, Tyler must have a clear picture of his area. This is easy enough when one is in an open room or field. It gets a bit more confusing when he is in a crowded environment. While he has a passive understanding, he must know where each object is specifically. Thus, things that obscure his vision or distort what he can see effectively make this power worthless.

Second, this power is tied to his confidence. If he is not confident in his own ability to do the spell, the spell will simply refuse to work. While he does not know why, there is a certain definitiveness to the power that requires him to be as in control as possible to execute it.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Tyler’s Abstraction depends entirely on maintaining a precise mental map of his surroundings. In chaotic or crowded settings, the abundance of objects or rapid movements can overwhelm his focus, leading to misidentifications or hesitation. Visual distortions such as mirrors, illusions, smoke, or other effects can subtly skew his perception, making swaps inaccurate or risky. His power also hinges on unwavering confidence; sudden fear, guilt, or strong emotions can disrupt the mental clarity he relies on. An excess of choices can also cause paralysis; when faced with multiple threats, Tyler might struggle to prioritize swaps, freezing while deciding the best move. Moreover, interactions with other magical or psychic forces could cause his Abstraction to malfunction, especially if objects are magical, cursed, or unstable. An opponent aware of his abilities might exploit this, turning his precision into a weakness.

Tyler has a bag filled with protein snacks. He will share if you ask.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Lexi is going to succeed where her parents did not. She’ll get out of this shit hole town one way or another. And she’s going to live her best life while doing it, because clearly settling down and living normal isn’t it. Her band will get successful enough to get out. Beyond that bigger goal, she’s going to live as she pleases, and have as much reckless fun as she can on the way.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Do whatever the fuck you want. Fuck responsibilities and all that bullshit society puts on people. Fuck all those expectations, nobody else’s opinion should matter. Life is meant to be enjoyed, no matter how dangerous that enjoyment is. There’s no reward without a risk. Most people are just too cowardly to take it.

SECRETS ⫻ Secrets are for people who give a fuck what others think. At least, that’s what Lexi pretends. Her secrets are embarrassments. Like that deep down, she actually really misses her dad, even though she’s the one that picked her mom’s side.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Lexi will get with anyone of any gender, as long as she finds them attractive with a tolerable enough personality. But only as a fling, she has no interest in romance. After all, it was a high school romance that got her parents stuck in this position. She’ll save that for when she’s sick of living wild. For now, she wants to enjoy herself without the commitment.

FEARS ⫻ Lexi fears that she’ll get trapped just like her mom did. That maybe it’s out of her control, and she’ll never escape Cornell. She’s also scared that underneath it all she’ll find that she’s just empty. That after highschool is over she’ll be left with nothing going on in her life and that her dreams are unrealistic. She’s also scared of losing the freedom she has.

REPUTATION IN CORNELL ⫻ When your parents had one of the messiest (recent) divorces in town, and their feud continues to this day, it’s impossible to stay under the radar in a town as small as Cornell. Where most people would struggle with the whispers and pitiful looks, Lexi didn’t care about being in the limelight. She’s forged her own incredibly messy reputation. Adults view her as a wild, rebellious teen who’s the result of poor parenting. To the majority of her peers, she’s a mean bitch who flaunts the rules and hangs out under the bleachers smoking instead of going to class. She’s horrible to everyone outside of her tight circle of friends, though she’ll gladly hand out cigarettes and booze to anyone who wants to. When she isn’t bullying someone, she’s goading them into breaking rules and doing other bad shit. This doesn’t make her reputation any more positive in general (outside of those she already likes), but it does make her known as the one to go to for smokes and drinks.

FLAWS ⫻ Lexi is reckless with little care about who else she endangering with her actions. She’s living her own hedonistic, wild life and will gladly hurt others in a pursuit of her own pleasure. This behaviour has been encouraged by her mom, enforcing that Lexi should selfishly do whatever the fuck she wants to without care for the consequences. She’s mean spirited for the sake of it. Nobody’s safe from her vicious barbs, though she tends to target more popular kids or those she views as goodie-two-shoes more. Often this is just downright cruel, and she doesn’t give a fuck about how hurtful she’s being. Her rebellious attitude makes her flaunt any kind of authority, no matter how sensible. It’s not even like she’ll argue and get angry- it’s all snide comments and a smug attitude before she completely ignores whatever she was told. Lexi is, quite frankly, off the rails, an uncontrolled and wild teen rampaging across the town and doing whatever the fuck she wants to.

Sophie Jordan and Gabriel Beaufort were Cornell natives, with their families knowing nothing but the town. Sophie was an outcast among her peers- a rebellious, wild teenager heavily into metal music and as gothic as she could be. Anthony was more ‘normal’ and chill, but he shared a love of rock and metal music, a guitar player with grand plans to start his own rock band and leave town. They were high school sweethearts, odd on the surface to outsiders but with a strong, loving relationship. They balanced each other out. Together they planned to graduate and leave behind shit hole Cornell.

This plan fell apart when Sophie got pregnant just before they graduated high school. With religious parents on both sides and no car between them, there was nothing to do but have the child. That meant staying in the town. Gabriel knuckled down and got a job at the steel mill, while Sophie picked up whatever odd jobs she could. She resented the hand that had been dealt to her, but what could she do?

Just under two years later they made the same mistake, and Alexandra was born. From as early as she can remember, there were arguments. Her older sister Danielle never seemed worried, though, so nor did she. She was happy enough. Her mom was happy to let her kids run wild, remembering how she hated her restrictive parents and went on to rebel against it. Her dad, on the other hand, tried to offer more structure when he wasn’t working himself to the bone. He taught both of his children the instruments he loved, instilling discipline in them through music practice which he tried to channel towards school.

The resentment between her parents continued to grow, both saddled with a life they didn’t really want and blaming the other. Their differing parenting methods clashed too, and from when the kids were old enough, they were used against the other parent.

Finally, everything fell apart just after Lexi turned ten. There hadn’t really been much there to begin with, but somehow the ending was even more explosive. It turned into a drawn out divorce, pettily arguing over every little thing the two of them owned. Every little bit of the children’s lives were argued over. They couldn’t exactly afford lawyers, either, so instead other townsfolk were dragged into it to help arbitrate. They told toxic half-truths about the other in an attempt to win people over to their side.

In the end, the only difference after their divorce was that they didn’t live together, and Lexi had to spend half her time with each parent. While Danielle was smart enough to go along with both sides in a way that benefitted her the most, Lexi started to favour her mom. She let her do whatever she wanted- encouraged it, and Lexi loved the freedom much more than she did her dad’s rules. It was much easier to take the side of the lax parent.

By the time she started highschool, she was very much the wild, rebellious child her mom had been. Her bad behaviour wasn’t just allowed by her mom, but it was encouraged. She barely saw her dad anymore, and when she did it was only to piss him off. She formed a small group of like minded friends, cutting class together to do all sorts of fun shit together. And with her two closest friends, Corey and Natasha, she formed a band. Life was fucking great.

Until the party of doom, that was. While a party with almost everyone from school at it was lame, it was a great excuse to get wasted and get some entertainment out of laughing at people who couldn’t handle their drink. Plus, Lexi’s sister had come back from university with some real drugs, not the lame shit Kushten always handed out.

Which meant that when all held broke lose, Lexi was high on ecstasy. Her first reaction was to be pissed that her sister laced it with a hallucinogenic. Then, Corey was killed right in front of her, and she kindled. Lexi doesn’t really remember how she got out… Just that she did.

When it became obvious the next morning it hadn’t just been a bad trip, Lexi had just a moment of freaking out about it. But really, how much worse was the town now it was falling apart? And this magic shit was something new to play with.

TYPE ⫻ Adept

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Purple & Black Lux. Channeler: her lighter

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻



LIMITS ⫻



WEAKNESSES ⫻ Her mix of Purple and Black Lux is inherently unstable. Purple aims to restore what a body once was, while Black declares it dead. Forcing both onto the same corpse creates tension within the spell. The longer an undead remains active, the more unpredictable it becomes—movements may lag, instincts slip, and control can lapse. Her undead are also linked to her through Black Lux. When one is violently destroyed, the backlash travels through the bond, causing nausea, dizziness, or lapses in focus. Her telekinesis is powerful but rough; it operates in explosive bursts, causing force to rebound off surfaces, which makes enclosed spaces risky as debris or shockwaves can return toward her. Teleporting through her undead isn’t perfectly smooth— the sudden shift causes brief disorientation upon arrival, usually just a second, but enough for someone nearby to seize an opportunity quickly.

Lexi gets cigarettes and alcohol from her mom, no questions asked. She always has a packet of cigarettes on her.

MAIN GOAL ⫻ Zakira’s primary aim is to achieve stability, both internally and externally. She does not pursue fame, revenge, or ambition. Instead, her focus is on understanding the situation at Cornell sufficiently to stop feeling like she is merely reacting to events. Her magic provides her with a unique sense of control, allowing her to quietly develop her skills so she can address threats early, before they grow worse. Above all, she desires to avoid being caught off guard by life's surprises.

PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Zakaria believes that many problems stem from overlooking what already exists. She perceives the world as a constant stream of subtle patterns, behaviors, and inconsistencies that most people miss due to distraction or overconfidence. For her, survival depends more on awareness, patience, and correction rather than strength or aggression. She values repetition, careful observation, and gradual understanding over instinct or impulse. When something feels off, it's usually accurate; it simply requires time to identify why. She doesn’t see the world as inherently kind or cruel—rather, it's easy to misinterpret.

SECRETS ⫻ Zakira seldom reveals how much she perceives. Since Kindling, she has quietly realized that her perception has changed—she detects patterns, shifts, and a sense of 'wrongness” that others overlook.

SEXUALITY ⫻ Zakira remains unsure and is not actively seeking relationships. She finds emotional bonds more confusing than comforting and has difficulty understanding her feelings of attraction clearly. Her focus tends to be on stability, safety, and emotional predictability rather than romance or physical attraction. Currently, she chooses not to label herself and prefers to observe rather than engage.

FEARS ⫻ Zakira fears making mistakes she can't undo. It's not about failing but realizing too late or misunderstanding something crucial. She is afraid of misjudging reality and harming others by failing to act. She also worries about being watched—not in a dramatic way, but feeling the pressure of being observed when unsure. The thought of standing out and being judged before she's ready causes her to withdraw. On a deeper level, she fears that simply being aware won’t be enough—that she will keep noticing problems without ever fully solving them.

REPUTATION ⫻ Zakira appears quiet, polite, and somewhat reserved. People often say she's “hard to read,” not unfriendly. While she's not widely popular, she's not disliked either—she tends to stay on the fringes of social groups, only really noticed when she's missing. Those who know her well view her as dependable in subtle ways: observant, cautious, and surprisingly perceptive during moments of confusion or disorder.

FLAWS ⫻ Zakira’s main flaw is her tendency to avoid direct conflict. She usually prefers de-escalation, silence, or withdrawal instead of confrontation, even when confrontation is needed. This stems not just from passivity but from a deep belief that she handles conflict poorly, often escalating or worsening it. Consequently, she tends to leave problems unresolved until they feel unmanageable. Her confidence is fragile and uncertain. Even when right, Zakira doubts her judgment without external validation. She second-guesses her perceptions, especially under pressure, making decisive action hard. Her lack of self-trust often leads her to rely on others or to wait for a “clear certainty” that rarely exists in real life.

She also avoids being the center of attention in meaningful ways. While she functions well in groups, she feels uncomfortable taking initiative or asserting herself, often settling for passive support roles rather than leadership or decision-making. If her input might be challenged or dismissed, she prefers to stay quiet rather than risk public embarrassment. Emotionally, Zakira internalizes stress, rarely expressing frustration, fear, or uncertainty. She processes emotions privately, leading to emotional buildup that she seldom releases healthily. When overwhelmed, her instinct is to retreat—physically or socially—rather than confront the source of pressure.

This makes her highly observant and reliable in stable environments but vulnerable under high pressure or rapid change, where hesitation, self-doubt, and avoidance can cause her to miss opportunities or react too slowly.

Zakira grew up in Cornell, feeling like she never quite belonged. Her home life was steady, quiet, busy, and distant; no one paid critical attention, yet no one neglected her either. She learned early to stay out of the way, occupy herself quietly, and avoid asking for much. Most days, she was alone, inside or outside, seeking places where she wouldn't be bothered. School was harder. Zakira wasn’t socially loud or quick, making her an easy target for bullying. It wasn’t constant violence but ongoing comments, jokes, being ignored, or talked over. Over time, it wore her down, leading her to stop fighting back. Silence felt safer than making things worse.

To escape it, she spent more time outside, where her overgrown backyard became her sanctuary. Tending to the plants gave her a stable focus. They were predictable; if she paid attention, they grew; if she didn’t, they didn’t. No guessing, no pressure. It became a routine, a way to control something without needing skills or power. She discovered archery through school, mainly because it didn’t require talking. She started out badly but persisted, repeating the same motions until they became natural. Her progress was slow, but steady, and soon she improved without anyone noticing how much effort she’d put in.

She only attended a warehouse party because others told her she should “get out more.” She kept to the edges, watching rather than joining, already uncomfortable even before anything truly happened. When the attack started, Zakira froze. Her Kindling Event hit unexpectedly, overwhelming and disorienting her. It wasn’t about power: it was awareness. Suddenly, the world revealed something beneath its surface that she couldn’t quite understand but couldn’t ignore.

She doesn’t remember choosing anything during that moment. Something shifted inside her, and afterward, everything felt... different, sharper, more noticeable. Patterns visible before now seemed clearer, as if she finally saw what had been hidden or just unseen. After that night, Zakira no longer left confused about whether anything had changed-she knew it had. The difference was that she didn’t yet understand how to use it.

She kept her discovery to herself and began experimenting on her own.

Initially, her efforts were clumsy and frustrating. Zakira started paying more attention to things she already understood. Gardening, routine, repetition. She didn’t begin with magic; she began with what she could control. Most of the time, nothing happened. When responses did occur, they were inconsistent; growth occurred at different speeds, shapes appeared uneven, and results didn’t always match her intentions.

However, Zakira didn’t give up when faced with setbacks.

She approached it like everything else in her life: through repetition, trial and error, and small adjustments. She treated it as a process rather than a mystery, changing one factor at a time and observing what made a real difference. Over time, she realized it wasn’t just about actions but also about intent—how clearly she could visualize her goal and maintain that focus.

That’s when it became reliable.

Once she established consistency, she integrated this new skill into her existing knowledge. Archery became more than just a skill; it served as a framework. The draw, the aim, the release—they provided a structure to anchor her focus. She started attaching small seed pouches to her arrows, transforming them into carriers for her spells, instead of trying to conjure everything directly from nothing.

Even then, it wasn’t flawless. Some shots were perfect, others misfired, overgrown, misplaced, or weaker than intended. But now, failure wasn’t a stop sign. It was just another step to adjust.

She’s still learning, refining. But unlike before, this isn’t something that just happened to her.

It’s something she’s actively creating.

TYPE ⫻ Adept.

ABSTRACTION ⫻ Green Lux, Zakira's channeler is a dandelion seed locket.

ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻



LIMITS ⫻ Zakaria cannot generate plant matter from nothing; each effect demands seed material or a biological source. Without proper preparation, her Abstraction becomes less effective and less reliable. The success of her verdancy magic depends greatly on the environment. Sterile, burnt, or heavily artificial areas hinder growth, slowing it or leading to weaker structures. Cold or chemically hostile conditions can delay activation or yield distorted results. Additionally, her magic is not instant in its current form. Even rapid growth processes have a delay period during which opponents can react, damage seedlings, or interrupt the formation before it fully matures.

Zakira’s Abstraction relies heavily on understanding, preparation, and environmental factors, making it unreliable on unfamiliar or rapidly changing terrain. Since her Verdancy isn't completely instinctive yet, gaps in her knowledge of plant structures can lead to weaker or unstable forms. If she misjudges her creation, the result may still appear, but often as a less effective or flawed version lacking durability. Her dependence on seed pouches also limits her tempo and availability. When supplies are low or she faces prolonged combat without time to restock, her options become very limited. Although she is learning to improvise, her most powerful and consistent effects still come from planned strategies rather than spontaneous creation.

Her main challenge in confined spaces is feeling overwhelmed by the surroundings. Verdancy performs best when she can easily see the growth points and understand their connections. Multiple seed points activating at once or enemies moving unpredictably through her formations can make it hard for her to mentally distinguish structures. This often leads to hesitation, making her control more reactive than intended. When faced with direct combat without time to prepare or establish terrain, she becomes significantly more cautious. Not weaker overall, but with fewer options—she ceases trying to shape the fight and focuses solely on survival. Venom-Arrow is inherently unstable during formation. If her internal alignment is disrupted during activation, the effect loses coherence, leading to weaker or partial necrosis rather than full propagation.

WEAKNESSES ⫻ Zakira’s Abstraction is highly sensitive to disruptions in her intent. If her focus breaks during activation, her Verdancy not only fails but also produces incorrect or unstable growths, potentially hindering her movement, impairing visibility, or creating dangerous terrain for both sides. Her output becomes inconsistent under mental stress, as her Abstraction relies heavily on uninterrupted internal pacing. Any disruption to her rhythm causes cascading timing errors, causing her actions to fall out of sync with her intended sequence and reducing overall coordination across multiple seed points. Recovering from failed or misfired manifestations is difficult; instead of cleanly resetting, her cognition often “echoes” the failed intent, biasing her toward repeating or compensating even when it's no longer optimal. In high-pressure situations, her ability to visualize complex plant structures diminishes, leading her manifestations to default to simpler, less durable forms with less control. Her Abstraction also struggles in close-range combat; when near enemies, her control over activation points drops significantly, resulting in less precise and often incomplete manifestations. Prolonged use causes rapid mental fatigue. Additionally, her Venom-Arrow formulation is psychologically intrusive; repeated use triggers mild aversion responses, increasing her hesitation subconsciously even when she tries to act decisively.

Zakira mainly uses a traditional hunting bow, valuing its reliability and simple design over modern or specialized options. Her leather hip quiver, filled with standard arrows, is kept organized and easily accessible for quick use. When possible, she recovers spent arrows after each engagement. This practice is practical and habitual; it is focused on maintaining her supply and control over her limited resources rather than sentiment.