AngelofOctober

Containment Field [High Casual]

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Rated M: Violence, gore, and language. This is a 18 plus game that doesn't focuses on romance or sex, in fact this game likely will be entirely sterile considering the nature of this game. This game is mostly 18+ due to it's evocative nature, a lot of gore, body horror elements, etc.

Government issue federally funded branch of defense called the B.C.I.T. [Biological Containment and Investigation Team] after a string of mysterious mutations plagued the U.S. Borders in Puerto Rico. Official documents state an illegal pharmaceutical company was experimented on the population of people in Puerto Rico turning them into mutated cannibals. Records state they "consumed the flesh of their fellow man with ravenous hunger"

The goal of the B.C.I.T. to defend and prepare U.S. for biological terrorism. What the B.C.I.T actually do is really unknown to the public and even if anyone would read official records and archives they likely roll their eyes. Zombies in Columbia. Cannibal Mutants in Puerto Rico. Virus contagions turning people into gross monstrosities. Sounds like government conspiracy to most.



Important documents are leaked to the public. B.C.I.T information is leaked. Easily dismissed as a hoax. B.C.I.T location buried deep within the Nevada desert.



A breakthrough has been made. Link to several of the drugs in the subsequent cases in the past have been linked to a single drug company. Virtue Medics. They are shutdown. Government buries link to B.C.I.T

Welcome to Containment Field. With the remake of Resident Evil 2 coming out and me looking back fondly over my time with F.E.A.R. this RP is an homage to the franchise. Namely Operation Raccoon city.

I need 5 very dedicated members to play a member of the B.C.I.T. The B.C.I.T is a government run defense agency who goes out and investigates biological sumthins. It usually involves, aliens, mutants, zombies. The current RP year, March 10th, 2014 - you have been assigned an operation in the small town of Holloway in Virginia. Strange deaths and strange disappearances have been happening and it is up to the team to figure this out. While also fighting horrific monstrosities.

This RP will lean heavily on thriller horror action. But it does have mystery and intrigue. Each member of the RP supports the team through their role and those roles provide your characters special abilities that only that role can perform.

Now I know roles aren't always popular. Though in this case it helps keep the team focused and helps narrow the RP down so we don't have all 5 beefy soldier dudes barking at each other. The characters themselves will be created by you, but your role you will take and each role is assigned a unique ability that helps them in the scenario of this RP.

Team Leader - I'm already seeing a collective groan right now. It's difficult for members to play the role of team leader often because they don't know where they are overstepping their bounds. Team Leader in this RP tells the team where to go, and how to get there.

Special Ability: Quality navigation skills. You are born, for whatever reason with an exceptional gift at remembering maps. You can visualize a map in your head and be able to graph it onto the streets and roads you see in a town.
Slot - Open

Biological Specimen Analyst - The BSA of the B.C.I.T is a highly trained and specialized individual with a degree in biology and the knowledge of cryptids. Nearly become a pseudo biological sciencist. They are the ones who tell you what it is, what's it weakness is, and how to kill it.

Special Ability: Able to assess and identify specimens biology in order to asses morphology and other useful information to help the team eradicate said specimen.
Slot - Angel of October

Officer 1 - How do you expect to kill said specimens? The Team Leader, you and another officer provide the firepower the team needs to melt biological specimens with enough bullets it might as well be raining.

Special Ability: For some reason you were born with more keen senses. You have a heightened sense of reality and because of that you have a heightened sense of awareness. Your body tingles when danger is near and you often can call out and spot danger before the rest of the team does.
Slot - Open

Officer 2 - Having each other's back is the more important feature, when operations like this are surprising and unexpected. Making sure you have your fellow gunsman and teammates watch is important. Each other's safety and protection is important.

Special Ability: While has more heightened awareness, the other has more heightened reflexes. For whatever reason you were born with the gift of being able to react quickly to situations faster than others around you.

Field Medic - You shoot. You heal. Being a field medic is like being a much more survivable soldier, but with more running involved from the thing that wants to eat your face off. All jokes aside you provide suppressive fire for the team and aid them in any basic medical care they may need.

Special Ability: You have a knack of healing wounds with whatever you can find. If you don't have it in your bag or your bag has gone missing, but you found a piece of cloth - you'll find a way to sanitize it and use it as a wrap.

Communications and Operations Management - Not everyone gets to be a cool soldier. You still have to have someone maintaining the gadgets like the computers the team uses. Someone's got to get into locked doors electronically and someone's got to make sure the communications are still going. You relay the operations and the current goal of the team.

Special Ability: You have a way of weaseling your way into things you shouldn't with just your computer alone. Able to force security locks with the keystrokes of a computer

Name: [Full Name]
Age: [make this believable, I'll recommend it's going to be 25 and up]
Role: Look at list
Appearance: [no anime, but drawn is fine]
Personality: [make them feel human, that's all I ask]
Skills: [what are the skills they possess]
Weaponry: [Team Leader, Officers 1 and 2 - get two weapons a primary weapon like a handgun or a rifle or a pistol and a secondary weapon like a knife or a baton. Field Medic, B.S.A., and Operations Manager get a handgun.]
Bio: [a bit different, but what other operations was your agent a part of in the B.C.I.T. what's their track record like, etc.]

🌌 Ultraverse: Strifes and Triumphs. (Superhero RP, Always Open). 🌌

Lancaster, Los Angeles/ State Highway

It’s very early and he only knows it’s very early because of how tired he feels. Like he’s going to fall asleep standing up. Lukas is staring at a very small bag of his belongings to take with him, the man he’s been sharing a cell with is up right now. He’s a bald man, the back of his head looks like a deflated ball, he gives him a gummy grin missing teeth in the front. He’s not sure if he’s excited or if he should be nervous about leaving. You don’t quite feel at home in this place. It feels alien and comfortable at the same time, sometimes the cold metal bars would make weird noises or you would hear whispering in the middle of the night concerned it was a conspiracy. It was cold in here. You’d think such a contained place would be warmer with all the bodies, but it isn’t. Yesterday was a busy day, making sure he had books checked in, already saying goodbye to at least some of the kids who transferred with him last year.

“Excited to see your family?” Jakobs ask, whenever he talked his mouth would make wet smacking noises, he always wondered if it had to do with his missing teeth. Jakobs one of the few adults that didn’t frighten him being here. Some of the adults were scary and hard to engage. Many of them had intense looks, expressions that made him nervous.

He promised others he wouldn’t let this place change him, though he’s scared it already has when the question hits him like overwhelming anxiety. He’s scared that Nadia or Robert have changed their minds about him. That the three years he spent in here, that Robert or Nadia started to believe the things they have said about him since he hasn’t been able to defend himself. But he knows those two aren’t like that. Yet, it’s the biggest worry he has.

“Yeah,” he forces a smile.

“You’ll get far, that’s what I always said about ya when you came. Seen it, said to myself kids going far,” Jakobs points at him and smiles. When a door is closed it echoes through the whole hallway. Resonating with the metal bars. The largest security officer he’s ever seen walks up to their cell. His heart is racing now and he can hear it in his ear. It makes his eardrum vibrate.

“Lukas Demaionewton,” the security guard, Mathison, addresses.

“That’s me,” does he sound desperate? He clears his throat, “I mean that’s me.”

Mathison just watches him, “You will follow me and you will follow every instruction you are given. Is that clear?”

Lukas nods as the bars are open. Just a little longer now and he’ll be outside. How much has changed? He’s pretty sure he’s not going to be seeing any hoverbikes, surprise you’re in the super future now. But the kids at their school, they’ll have their tales. The news might say something unpleasant for a few days, he’ll have to be prepared for that. He lets his feet drag, but with a slight skip following Mathison. Every door resonates with the walls. There’s a few others who have gotten up early to say goodbye to him. Connor’s some kid with some curly ginger hair that looks a bit like whipping cream sitting on top, he nervously looks over at him, “I won’t...forget you.”

That’s an odd thing to say. At least in the tone he says it.

“I’ll miss you too,” Lukas says, as they continue to walk down halls, doors, loud slamming. Till they stop in a room. He’s handed a shirt and a pair of pants. Robert’s probably pulled it out of the closet and handed it to the prison last night.
He’s just use to this. Here he's always watched even when you don’t think you are. He tried to abide by the rules, broke none of the rules and felt even more watched waiting for the moment he cracked. Slipping onto what is essentially his nightwear, Robert could have asked, sweats and an old sweater. Once he’s turned in his uniform he follows Mathison to the intake. The sally port is his last obstacle till he’s out and into Robert’s car.

“That sick kid,” he swears he hears before he’s standing before a window. A man with oval shaped glasses fixes them upwards.

“We have some paperwork for you to fill out,” the man tells him with little to no interest for him as an individual.

There’s a paperwork for how much he has earned from his job. There’s paperwork for a new fingerprint, his always turns out weird, a bit sucker shape, but no one seems to care. There’s another photo he has take for records or so he’s told. He’s eager to get out to the port at this point. All these formalities feel like it’s a prank, that they’re simply issuing him a new ID and telling him it was all a prank. The man thumbs twice through the paper. His heart is racing now. His chest is tightening. His eardrum is vibrating with the sound of his own heartbeat.

“Looks like everything is in order,” man says.

“That’s it? I can go?” Lukas ask.

Man doesn’t really emote, he just stares at him and makes a gesture to one of the guards to the sally port. It’s opened and he walks out, the last slam of metal he hopes to ever here. Squinting his eyes briefly, outside air. One not behind barbed wire. He’s looking for, Robert is leaning against the passenger side of his car and gives him a lazy wave.

“Was ‘fraid they were keeping you,” Robert tells him with a smile.

“For a moment, I thought they were too,” Lukas replies.

Robert nods his head, “Get in the car we shouldn’t loiter too long in front of a prison.”

He’s known Robert his whole life, but right now he’s feels distance. Shouldn’t there be more to them meeting like this in a long time?

“Nadia, didn’t come,” Lukas mentions opening the door to Robert’s tan sedan, noticing the backseat empty.

Robert just smiles, “Boy do we have something special for you.”

She’s at the apartment then. He wants to hug and kiss her, he hasn't in so long. They have seen each other during visiting hours, but it never really felt the same because this place makes you disassociate from the real world so much.

“One second,” Luka says turning to face the prison. Lifting up his middle finger high, “Fuck you prison.” Sitting in the passenger seat, buckling up.

“If the guards start coming out, you know I’ll have to let you go,” Robert jokes.

“Well it made me feel better,” Lukas says as Robert peals out towards the road, while Lukas fiddles with the radio in the car for the first time in years.

An advert plays, but he let’s it. He hasn’t heard something try to pander to the human lizard brain in years either.

Sound of someone sniffing the air.

“Oh, oh I didn’t notice you were there,” a woman’s voice nervously laughs, “I wish they invented smelling speakers, because you wouldn’t believe how unbelievably amazing my house smells.”

Takes a big whiff in.

“It smells just like peeling oranges,” she says, “I’m glad for my Spray and Scent plug in scentinator. It gets rid of bad smells and well.”

She takes another sniff and exhales, “You just feel a sense of oh what’s that word again, relaxing.”

Spray and Scent plug in scentinator. Just plug. It sprays. And well makes your house smell simply amazing. Spray and Scent sold separately from oils.

“I hate that commercial,” Robert groans.

“I haven’t heard it,” Lukas remarks. Roberts pulls a face.

“Right, sorry,” Robert keeps his focus on the road. Things feel awkward right now.The drumming beat of a radio station jingle begins to play.

“And welcome back listeners to the Dan and Jeremy show, it’s currently 8:30 am in the morning, traffic on the highway is fairly light today,” the hoarse, smoker voice of Dan plays through the speaker.

“So Dan,” Jeremy voice is lighter, a lot more nasally, “While we were on a break, a breaking news story was just posted on RightNews.net.”

“Woah woah Jeremy you can’t just plug in other people’s platform on this show, we’re not associated or affiliated with RightNews and they didn’t ask for us to talk about this,” Dan said, “It’s just so you to have your phone out while we’re on break.”

“What was I supposed to do Dan, listen to the Scent and Spray for the hundreth time,” Jeremy retorts.

“Okay, okay we’re getting off base here, what’s this article you want to talk about,” Dan responds.

“They are calling it the most controversial release ever,” Jeremy says, “Nineteen year old Lukas Dema-how the fuck do you say this last name?”

“Just say Newton,” Dan says passively.

“Is being released out of state prison, after his brutal execution of eight people three years ago,” Jeremy continues.

Robert’s hand inches towards the radio. Is he sick to be curious?

“Let it play,” Lukas mentions to Robert.

“But Lukas,” Robert says.

“I’ll be fine,” Lukas tells him.

“Perhaps we should fill in for the listeners who have been avoiding the news or have been living under a rock,” Dan says, “What roughly three years ago, a sixteen year old boy walks into a telecommunications company called Ion Communications. Right?”

“Yes, that’s right Dan,” Jeremy says.

“Kills the guards, and then executes-excuse the gross imagery here listeners- a man, bullet through the skull,” Dan continues.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, “What I won’t understand is what motive the kid had, you know Dan. Michael Peterson was just a stereotypical guy like you and I. He had nothing associated to his name. Or it’s really well covered up annd this kid just goes in - murders a bunch of standards.”

“My theory on this Jeremy, you want to hear my theory,” Dan says.

“Go on,” Jeremy says, “Curious.”

“My theory is that when an Ultra gets their power it corrupts their minds turning them crazy,” Dan says.

“Genius, well said should work for the scientist,” Jeremy says.

“I know,” Dan replies, “Anyway, what’s your take on this dear listeners? What’s your view and take on releasing this monster back into-

Robert changes the channel. It isn’t how it went, he’s told people time and time again how that night went, but none of them ever believed him. Sometimes it felt like the criminal system, no that is exactly what the justice system was. Guilty until proven innocent. But who would provide the defense towards his case three years later? Robert only briefly glances at him.

“Look as much as it might sound fun, finding the person who did this to you,” Robert pauses, “I want you to focus on getting things straightened up. Get your GED, find a college, normal people stuff. Don’t let this thing define or consume you.”

Get your life straight? What a way to put it Robert.

“But we are going to find the person who did this?” Lukas ask him.

“Yeah sure,” Robert makes a face. It sounds more like Robert wants him to put all of this behind him. Not to mention it again. Allow it to fade into the background.

“You can tell me the truth, you don’t really want me to do so,” Lukas mentions.

Robert grumbles, “Let’s not talk about this. You just got out of jail and you’re already discussing about breaking more crimes. Just lie low for now. Have a few dates. Do things people do. At least for a little while. Can you do that for me?”

“Fine,” Lukas huffs and lies his head on the window of the passenger. He’s so tired from being up so early. He’s a little nervous going back. Going back to their apartment. Interacting with the people. Only so few believe he was telling the truth and listening to the talk show, there’s a lot of people who believe his guilt just because someone told them he was guilty.

Get your life straight, huh. Put it behind him. Never to try again. Not sure how he should feel about that. Or what is the right course of action. Of course he believes in balance, you can’t always be absorbed by your super identity and vice versa. To put it behind him. Lukas closes his eyes. To have a normal life. When they aren’t even human. What’s that mean? Once again everything is different while remaining the same. Like life changing events are in limbo, slow to register or process and the right decisions are obscure.

🌌 Ultraverse: Strifes and Triumphs. (Superhero RP, Always Open). 🌌

“Sometimes I have dreams I am drowning and then I realize I can swim, so I swim, endlessly, without any direction,”

Clutter Free

Age: 19
Nationality: Atlantean - Which I guess is weird because I never really been there before, but it’s not like everyday you can say your Nationality is German and you turn into an eight tentacled octopus monster.
Ethnicity: Murkfolk - is the technical term - There’s apparently a whole caste system down there humans don’t know about and Merfolk is kind of err simplified I guess.
Location: Los Angeles - Ugh please fix the air quality around here

Blue Mood

“Such a young man shouldn’t have such a serious look on his face,”
The young man drops his head low, locks of black hair follow, “It’s just the way my face rest.”
“I guess it is what they say, if you scowl too much it stays stuck on your face,”

What a strange young man. Locks of black hair, long locks of black hair, that have an unusual curl to them. Nearly as if they aren’t quite like the hair on top of your head. His skin is pale and glossy, and he has a masculine beauty about him that you could chalk up to his age, but the smoothness and the long eyelashes give him an androgynous appearance to his look. He’s seen often wearing a serious expression on his face, as if he’s in deep thought constantly and his wardrobe is various from detective chic to lazy I just got out of bed to anywhere in between. It’s hard to peg his style because he doesn’t necessarily focus on those aspects. He accepts whatever his brother and his girlfriend give him.

His blue irises are enigmatic with a strange energy to them, often they remind you of the ocean. Catching the light they radiate with an even deeper blue that no human could achieve. It’s piercing and drags you into the depths of his gaze, which to be quite frank is intimidating largely due to his consistent serious expression.

He’s shorter than what you expected though, standing at 5’5”, 165cm, he doesn’t have the frame of someone imposing and tough. Lean and somewhat skinny, he looks like one push would do him over and that he’d probably fall over quickly, as well as bruise easily considering how smooth and glossy his skin is. The lack of calluses and the lack of natural flaws in his skin give him an uncanny creepy vibe and likely why the media chose to out him. There’s an uncanny nature to his look, though most people wouldn’t be able to put their finger on it.

“Are you going to stop staring?” he ask.
“Oh yes,” you nervously laugh.

His light voice also betrays him as well, it lacks the imposing lash that his otherwise expression declares. His voice is smooth and classically light, not that it cannot be mistaken for a boy’s voice, but there is a cadence to it that makes it easy to listen to, it is pleasant and has a low hoarseness to it. You simply nod and turn the opposite direction leaving the young man to do whatever it is that he does at this time of night with that kind of expression on his face.

"Hey kid! You shouldn't be out here, do you know what's going on?!"

Swish. Gurggle. Swish

Pushing back his hood and his hair out of his face he watches as the man runs off in fear. Good. Legs have transformed into eight, black tentacles, each black, and greasy looking. A necklace of seafoam, with radiant different colors looks like a necklace of floating eyes around, a black suit that seems partially integrated with his skin. A poncho with a hood with cat ears seems to be the only thing that personalizes this hero. Just another hero in what appears to be an oily, black, suit on his upper body, and his lower body, several tentacles each producing bubbles and slimy mucus. Hair has transformed into it’s true form, unnaturally black, slick tentacles, but his face remains showing off that Atlantean merfolk in his bloodline - despite their feud that has separated Atlanteans.

I am not just a kid

In length he only grows several inches taller 5’10”, that’s from head to the tip of his tentacles, he’s a much more imposing figure than he ordinarily is.

Because this is convenient

Partial transformation, let’s face it, it’s not everyday someone is going to see a 5’10” octopus monster resting in the streets of Los Angeles, for convenient maneuverability Blu/Lukas spends more time in a bodysuit made of his own skin in partial transformation, with a seafoam necklace, than trying to slide across the street with eight tentacles. Belt was Nadia’s idea for “professional hero look”.

If only I could Godzilla the villains

Personality:

“I honestly don’t know what is worse, using someone’s image to create hysteria to create more fear in others. Or the fact that people are so afraid to even try to understand that they shut themselves out from understanding”

by Emily Jordans

It is the anniversary of the death of CEO Michael Peterson, brutally attacked by an Ultra. The public shocked that anyone could do such a thing, but those who remained awake knew that this was the danger Ultra’s posed on the world. Lukas Demaionewton went before trial and we as the people watched as he denied the allegations of his murder. A year later, I wonder in this editorial, what could possess such young killers, is it the power, does it control them? I am about to enter the lion’s den and enter Los Angeles State Prison in order to speak with the young killer who terrorized the streets of Los Angeles one year ago.

The cell masquerades the darkness that lurks below, as a boy has scattered posters of his favorite video games, on his side of the cell. Books he likes to read. Is this what has given birth to his violent tendencies? All this schlocky, hyper violent media. I warn you now dear reader, violence at a young age does mold and shape our children’s minds. Evident here, as a cheesy superhero stands in a victory pose, justifying his violent streak with a message of false positivity. I see now in this cell, helps me get a little closer to the killer’s mind.

I enter a blank room, where the boy sits in a metal chair. He looks ordinary, like any other boy on the streets. But his uncanny appearance and the serious expression that plagues this seventeen year old mind, mask the violence he hides.

“Lukas Demaionewton,” I address him all the same, as a fellow human being. But I ask you dear reader, is he a human being? Is he really deep down in that heart of his?

“I mean yeah that is my name,” he replies in an anti-authoritarian way, his true colors showing. A lack for the rules. Admiring vigilantes and violent heroes in the media.

“I’m Emily Jordans of True Media,” I continue to treat him as I would any person, a calm, and respectful tone. Though does he deserve it?

“And I guess you’re here because you want me to answer some questions,” he replies, continuing with his anti-authority tone, he sits back, relaxed. Does he even have any regret?

“In fact I do, I am writing an article on your case, revisiting details, and your account,” I reply, I continue to smile and try to push through his rude behavior, “It has been a year since Michael Peterson has died. And no one has heard a confession from you yet. Are you willing to own up to your actions now that the dust has settled? You’re already imprisoned and the jury already found you guilty. Do you finally find yourself guilty?”

“They found me guilty because they don’t like Ultras, it be like the jury finding a black man guilty because - they don’t like black men,”he justifies his actions. It’s evident to me, all though I am no psychiatrist, that he has a serious case of anti social behavior, a deep seeded psychopathy.

“Difference is the black man doesn’t have powers that take lives away from others, or scares the city half to death with their violent, explosive and destructive nature,” I try to reason with him.

“Guns, knives, bombs,” he list off, “I mean ordinary people have the same means to destroy cities, and kill people without the powers.” clearly he’s trying to deny to himself the horrible things he did. Michael Peterson likely begging for mercy that night and he killed him cold blood. Visions of knives, bombs, and the belief that Standards would come after Ultras drove this man to kill Michael Peterson he said it himself.

“So, you killed Michael because you are worried Standards will try to destroy Ultras?” I have caught him in his web of lies. His truth is about to be exposed.

“What - no,” he denies, he is trying to keep me from getting close to the truth. The truth is that he is a young man who glorifies dangerous media, turned to vigilantism to defend himself against the Standards using his Ultra abilities to snap a man’s neck, he view himself superior in every way to Standards.

“How old will you be Lukas when it finally eats away at you the horrible things you have done?” I finally break, his behavior, his lack of treating or valuing other humans lives is just too much for me to bare. I admit dear reader I got emotional at the end because this young man won’t cry for the victims in his wake.

“I have done nothing,” he states again standing up, it startles me, I am taken aback. He’s finally showing that bubbling cauldron of anger he holds inside. I for a moment feared for my life as he gave me an intense stare, the stare of a young killer.

“Eighty, on your deathbed, just admit it, admit what you have done and the world will leave you alone,” I am so close to a confession. I am so close to tell him the truth. When the boy let’s out a frustrated growl.

“Stop it!” he shouts at me, “Stop it and leave me alone!” he continues to play the victim. He continues to believe he is the persecuted. He continues to believe he holds no responsibility for the lives he has taken, justified by the reasoning of Us versus Them. Standards versus Ultras. This is the mind of a young killer.

One with power so fathombly great, and beyond our understanding. I will remember his haunting gaze, as he considered to tear me apart in that interview. His vision will haunt me until the day I die. And this sense that I haven’t yet uncovered the truth for my readers, worries me. How can I warn them, how can I share to you the reader how to spot an Ultra who might want to harm you, when the answers are right there in the generation of Powered Killers?

She’s so pretty, her hair has grown out a little, but the fact she has come to visit him, his heart is beating with excitement. He touches the glass she’s behind.

“You came?!” he says excitedly.

“I don’t believe the things they say about you Lukas,” she says with a smile, a ray of hope, behind white walls, behind the coldness of these hallways.

“I am so lucky to have you,” he whispers looking sadly down at his feet.

“I have already thwarted off anyone who thinks they can date me, I’m waiting for this really cute boy, who,” she lowers her voice,”turns into a fish.”

He raises his head up and smiles at her, “I am not a fish, But I won’t let this place change me, I refuse to let it change me. I promise I’ll come back the same.”

She blows him a kiss and he catches it. It’s so warm. A memory something to hold onto, something to keep so this place won’t swallow him whole.

Sometimes it’s hard to say a place like that doesn’t change someone because it does. It denies you a sense of individuality. You another number, another statistic, treated all the same. In white walls, in white cells that you share with another individual. Someone who scares you, someone who - despite all your power - could hurt you. They are the same age as you, but some of them really do need the help, some of them really are the way they portray you. And you hold onto one thing, that in this world, that two people you love are waiting for you and that they believe you. It’s hard to say that the loneliness and the isolation doesn’t change you. It’s hard to say it hasn’t changed you.

Despite troubled times it is easy to say that Lukas is an extremely strong willed individual. It’s something that people admire the most about him. That Lukas stands firm, he stands tall and despite the people who try to cut him down Lukas is firm in his ideals and holds onto the truth. He won’t turn his back towards the light at the end of the tunnel. While people may try to tell him the light isn’t true, or he’s just imagining it - he knows when they are trying to deter his sights on something and when they are correct.

And despite the seriousness of his expression, Lukas is admired for his ability to be quick witted, and he’s got a sassy tongue. Something he’s learned to thwart others who try to shame him. He’s powerfully loyal to those who earn it and protective of those with intense passion to the ones he loves. If it were up to Lukas he’d like someday to be a world where Ultras worked alongside the enforcement. Worked alongside the law. Lukas has always admired those that try to enforce moral good into the world, it’s probably why he strived for a long to help and aid them. Probably against his brother’s protest, though he knew it was just to protect him.

For Lukas it’s important that Ultras gain a social identity and what better way of gaining a social identity than the one that other people praise, use the word Hero like they do the soldiers, the EMT, the doctors, the police officers. They could stand alongside these iconic heroes. But that’s an idealistic dream sometimes it feels like.

Considering what he’s been through, now it feels more like a mission on clearing his name. Proving people wrong that he’s not some psychotic murder. All though strong will, that determination, is chipped at when he realizes what the news has said and done about him. What millions of people think of him. He tries hard not to let those words get to him, but it does, it hurts. He worked so hard in earning the trust of others as a good guy. As a hero. As someone who people could look up to, the way he looked up to good people and now he’s a monster.

And it’s hard to say when Lukas has a scowl on his face naturally, or how he can be a bit more serious for his age. While Lukas is this sassy, sarcastic, kid, he can also be quite a thoughtful one. One who understands complicated things that adults aren’t ready to think kids know these things. Or that society thinks he should know. His intelligence has been a hindrance because it puts him at odds for people. Lukas has never been the type of individual to go into a situation guns blazing. He’s thought about it. Plotted for weeks. And spent days making sure he understands every situation. Truth is that Lukas understands physiology he’s not meant to be taking torpedoes and missiles to the body, so he tries as many precautionary task. As he wants as little harm to others and to himself.

On top of that all Lukas is also an average teenager who worries about his relationships, and how other kids see him. He worries about what people say about him and it does get him down, sometimes he can be broody and a bit pouty. When people say things he doesn’t like he has a moment of shutting down. He can be kind of direct and blunt, which pushes others away.

He likes playing games, reading comics, enjoys espresso, and when he’s not being a superhero he use to be quite the environmental activist. You know before being put into jail. He educated the community about cleaning up the ocean and cutting the hole plastic traps from their soda cans. He dislikes lies, in fact he dislikes people trying to ruin people’s reputation more than saying killing is bad. To him that’s just something people should know. He also dislikes offensive smells, like strong perfumes, and strong foods like garlic. He dislikes the smell of city sometimes too, car pollution, and whatnot.

Daily Skills:
Not everything in life is surrounded by being a hero, we all have lives to live and we all have to deal with the real world. We can’t be swallowed by our Ultra identities, I mean some can - but I call that obsession. I’d prefer to be my Ultra side be a uniform I wear when needed.

Remembering details - sure this helps his hero work as much as it helps in his daily life, but Lukas has always been good at remembering details. Nothing really escapes him if it’s out of order or there’s a pattern someone might not recognize - he may be able to spot it right away. A man’s nervous habit, the way someone clears their throat, where they put their items. How organized they are, etc. But then he remembers things like, that building use to be a Fun Zone, oh wow they went out of business.

Laundry - lesson, don’t ever let my brother do your laundry for you. He’s always uses too much soap, doesn’t know how to set the dryer or washing machine to proper dials for different clothes. You want that cashmere sweater stay a cashmere sweater, don’t let Robert touch it. I got you. I am like a freer dry cleaner. Just expect a good thank you in return

Swimming - comes with the territory of being an Atlantean, does that count as cheating I wonder, my swim club always use to say that I am not human in the water, and well yeah I am not. So - cheating?

Romantic Stuff - just going to put all of the kind romantic stuff into one category. I mean there has to be a reason why Nadia has stayed with me. Poetry, making sure I know her needs, listen to her, communicate with her, making sure to talk through our arguments, that sort of stuff. Wicked dates.

Cooking - yeah don’t let my brother touch the stove either. I had to eat his cooking for five years before I got to help with cooking. Magically our food started getting better tasting. Probably because I know what goes into what.

Hero Skills:
It isn’t that I don’t use these skills in my day to day life, but it isn’t like walking into the bank requires a detailed strategy either. That be exhausting if you lived your life like that.

Being Stealthy - look I have learned when your as lightweight as me, your feet don’t make much noise and there are a lot of places villains like to hangout that someone doesn’t want you being there. So I have learned to slip in and out of places, like a cat burglar - okay bad analogy. Like a burglar doing good - okay now I am digging myself into a hole.

Strategizing - I am not like my brother I don’t have tough skin that gives people papercuts, nor does my skin have the touch of rough sandpaper. Honestly things hurt me more than him, it’s also good to know what you’re getting yourself into. So I like to plan and plot. I am not married to the plan, but at least having an idea of how things can go is a lot better than not.

Tracking - Turns out villains don’t stay in one place and sometimes they flee the scene. You kind of have to know how to follow them after that or you’re shrugging your shoulders - better luck next time kid. Turns out Villains aren’t always so smart either and don’t realize they leave things behind to actually track them down. That or seafoam is always good to attach to their bottom of their shoes. Makes a nice trail.

Tools/Equipment/Weapons:
When you have your skin as a body suit it dawns on you can’t carry much and the belt Nadia gave me is more fashionable than it is to carry anything. All my preparation is done at home.

Kind of just have the standard tools, a computer to organize and file the villains we fight, and to track them down if need be. Look I am not ultra rich and I am not that kind of intelligent.

Mutations:

Atlantean Physiology -

Everyone has a tale of Atlantis, and everyone has a tale of the Atlanteans. That they are beautiful men and maidens, who lure sailors to their doom. While other tales say that they are peaceful race who guide sailors lost at sea. Both are true in some sense, it really depends on the King in charge at the time and what laws are informed. Though that isn’t really the time to tell those stories, instead we begin at the very beginning, at the basics of Atlantean Physiology. To simmer an Atlantean down into a basic is difficult because between the Sacred Atlantean and the Murkfolk there are various differences among them.

We begin with the Sacred Atlantean - the first image that anyone conjures up of any Merfolk is that of a humanoid man or woman with a human upper half and a lower half a tail. Now the Sacred Atlantean tail can be various in shape and design, but the stereotypical style the one worshipped by man and other Atlanteans is the classic fish scale and classic human beauty.

A True Merfolk Queen Arno

The Sacred Atlantean are known for many things, they are capable swimmers for instant, they can outswim even the fastest Olympic champion even if he dare tried and cross miles of water without exertion. They have to be, their life is in the water, on the water, it surrounds water and they have to endure whatever the waves brings them.

The next notable feature of the Sacred Atlantean is the ability to breathe and speak underwater. Something which humans cannot. Science still hasn’t figured out the complex system that allows the Merfolk to both breathe underwater and not need air, but also be able to surface and accept oxygen.

Merfolk seem to also have the capability to understand sonar sound underwater as well as have empathy towards aquatic life, able to contact with them. It is even said that Merfolk possess some kind of ability whether that ability is an affinity towards Magic or if that affinity is more akin to an Ultra none are truly sure. No one has ever studied Merfolk to really know.

Murkfolk on the other hand, they are the the individuals who lurk in the depths. Sailors tell tales of Merfolk drowning them, or Sirens luring men out to sea. Ugly aquatic creatures who change shape to mask their true hideous form, to lure men and woman out to sea and drown them. Tales of Krakens, and mythical sea creatures are likely the Murkfolk and they have been villainized since the dawn of time. By their own people and humankind. Some Murkfolk have taken on this identity, many of them have become Shadows of the Sea. If they are to be villainized then they will gladly accept it.

Meredia - Murk Queen

Murkfolk have a similar physiology to their Mer counterparts. They can breathe underwater and they can swim rather well, they can understand sonar and even speak with aquatic life. However, the Murkfolk have other tricks up their sleeves.

Many of them, for whatever, reason are shapeshifters. They have the ability to go from something human like to their dark and twisted shapes some sailors speak of. And many of them have better vision in the dark due to the fact that they are subjected to the Murk of the ocean. A dark, low light place, right before the deepest part of the sea. Some Murkfolk have even went farther from the Murk, to the deeper part of the sea and possess bioluminescence capabilities.

Abilities/Powers:

This is where the controversy begins, no one is sure if the Altaneans possess magic or if they possess abilities like Ultras. No one has ever studied one, but the abilities an Atlantean has is as unique and variant as an Ultra does to one another. What one Atlantean can do is different from another Atlantean, all though some of it may be inherited by the more dominant parent gene. Though no one truly knows the nature of their abilities and no one really can say. Unless they had an Atlantean to study on.

Liquid Skin -

An adaptation of his environment, Lukas skin isn’t entirely dry, it is actually quite slippery in his Murkfolk form. This slippery skin keeps him from drying out, but it also makes it sort of hard to hold onto him. It’s often sticky and slippery, it is this mucus on his skin he mixes with air bubbles to form his seafoam. Lukas also uses this slippery skin to squeeze through tight spaces others cannot, such as ventilations grates, maybe even spaced apart bars.

Seafoam -

It is actually a mixture of air and his mucus that seeps out from his suckers that creates his seafoam. This seafoam though combined with his mucus has different properties than the mucus. It is a sticky substance that allows him to stick an individual in place as a temporary means of immobilizing them - maybe up to a minute before the foam begins to fizz away. It is also quite slippery, so he can easily use it to make the floor slick. And with enough air he can use his seafoam to form bubbles around people to help them breathe underwater.

Bioluminescence -

For extra adage Lukas possess the ability of bioluminescence. This doesn’t at first seem to provide much usefulness, considering you don’t want to be a nightlight usually when you’re trying to sneak around. But it can provide light to those who cannot see in the dark waters or even in the dark itself. He also uses it to disorient his enemies. The seafoam around his neck and formed from his suckers has the shape of eyes and often can be quite hypnotic, throwing people off in a trance they can shake off within a few seconds, but often that’s all he needs to subdue an individual.

Birth

In the earliest histories of merfolk, were tales of strange aquatic beings. Often depicted as evil or as hunters of the ocean by early men. Strange and alien to most humans, they began stories of aquatic humanoids who would lure you into the depths on foggy nights and submerge you. While true the earliest merfolk did surface to land on misty nights it was not out of malicious intent. Though some wonder if the early language barrier between humans and the not yet known Atlanteans was partially to blame. Or perhaps it was their alien look. Soon though the curious fear of the unknown began to turn to more lucrative. As people began to realize the value of catching a Merfolk, a side business began before the major cities ever arose. That being of Norse Vikings and other men of the sea catching Merfolk for sport, recognition, tales of conquering the sea. Many of the Merfolk then didn’t have the power to defend themselves, great swimmers, and easily able to escape capture they couldn’t command the seas, nor did they possess the magic Merfolk are later known for.

Aquatic Alien

Seeking refuge the Merfolk fled to grottos, seen less and less at the surface of water and more and more in the underground the Merfolk prayed and prayed for assistance. The birth of Quairres is an age old question of the chicken or the egg, were the prayers heard by a Tamura or was a Tamura created out of their plight? Story goes the Merfolk had a vision or a dream of Quairres trying to reach for them, thought the translations of early Atlantean history is faded and broken. Soon as the humans expanded on the surface, underwater grottos became places of worship of a Tamura. Statues of Quairres were erected, said to draw energy from the moon. The tides would completely submerge these temples during high tide keeping them primitively hidden from humans who sought them. And would reveal beautiful statues of painted colors that shouldn’t exist underwater, of Quairres and his guidance.

Quairres Tamura of Tides

Eventually this lead a portal between Quairres and his people. Allowing the Tamura to have more and more influence over people, when eventually a crown was made, his vessel, and the first Atlantean King was born with the power to command the seas, the power to command the animals, the people, who had the power to erect cities from magic - Tamura magic. The first Atlantis built afar from the Greek cities.

Atlantis shows up in a lot of early human historical records. Though no one ever found Atlantis. Not a stone, not a change in the ocean, would ever hint at the location of Atlantis, because Atlantis was here and not here. A pocket of the sea was warped and shaped to hide their cities away from eyes that might want to take their treasures or hunt their people.

Tales of Poseidon and other Sea Gods may have been born from humans lack of understanding of the shifts of power. With Tamura who influenced the Atlanteans God Kings, allowed them to create storms, change tides, cause coastal storms, mighty waves. Many say the earliest God Kings of Atlantis were wrathful and vengeful beings who sought getting back at humans for forcing them to flee for so long. The seas violent and rough for sailors, the birth of a sea guardian as the humans call it the Kraken. The seas would be feared and were not meant for human meddling or so they would learn in the humans earliest civilizations.

Very few Atlanteans questioned this line of thinking out of their Queens and Kings. They were after all bestowed beautiful bodies by Quairres as a token of their worship, they were given cities that protected them, and they controlled the seas, and had a way to fight and wage war with the humans. Though there began a shift in their later ancient history.

Two sons of the late King Turrentius, Rifios and Lyra were the symbolic equivalent of Atlantean history as their divide. Lyra the oldest son, slated to be coronated as King during his father’s passing, agreed with his father Turrentius plan to submerge Rome into the sea. Rifios the youngest son questioned his father’s plans. He was the earliest talk among Atlanteans coexisting or at least finally submerging themselves into the deep and to never interact with humans again. To keep the Merfolk safe they should cut all affairs from the surface world and finally embrace the deep.

Rifios Prince of Change and Shadows

Many were against the isolation that Rifios proposed. They felt the humans owed them something for hunting them in their earliest earliest histories. Their barbaric ways should succumb to the seas, where the Merfolk have all the power to hold over them. While there was a still strong few that agreed with Rifios dividing the two Atlantis cities.

Turrentius tried in his lifetime to quell the rebellion is young son presented. Being a vessel of the Tamura itself through his crown, he not want to upset the God like being they worshipped. The one who granted them the power they now have. He sent Rifios to the smaller city of Atlantis, in order to busy him with official government work in hopes he could move war plans and the coronation of Lyra along.

Not under his watch Rifios began to gather allies to aid him in stopping the war and his brothers coronation. Many began to slowly move towards agreeing with Rifios and he slowly began to build a small quiet army, to subdue his brothers guard during the coronation. Rifios goal was not war with his people, but to stop a path of destruction.

Rifios coup to get into the larger city of Atlantis was a success and he nearly did succeed stopping his brothers coronation. What he didn’t plan for was the God who was his father’s vessel. They say the seas grew angry that day. Typhoons, whirlpools, and storms were seen on the surface, as Rifios army was wiped out in one fell swoop by the strength of Quairres. For their betrayal Rifios and those that followed were cursed to the Murk, the darker parts of the ocean and stripped of their beauty, creating the Murkfolk as we know of them today.

Cursed by the God he Respected

Ironically many years, many years later, Rifios ideology spread, and Atlantis while expanding began to draw further and further back from the human world. The seas beginning to become calmer and calmer. Nowadays Atlantis doesn’t interact much with the surface, falling more into a story or a myth.

Growing Divide

After Rifios betrayal the underwater cities of Atlantis would not be the same. Two classes of Merfolk existed within the sea. The Murkfolk, those forced to live in the Murk, the part of the ocean just before the Great Deep and the Sacred Atlanteans that live in their contained pocket oceans. Neither of which took on their identity until hundreds of years past. When Quairres curse was not lifted and they continued to live on as Sacred Atlanteans and Murkfolk. It was then a hundred years later that the names really took on their power. Sacred Atlanteans saw themselves as true Merfolk, forgetting the aquatic aliens they originated from, but that was millenia ago. While the Murkfolk began to build, and rise as their own caste of Merfolk adopting the name Murkfolk to separate themselves from those that lived in Atlantis.

It was about this time, stories began to crop up. Where the stories were once calm, Murkfolk who had no protection from the Atlanteans cities were often spotted by humans. As Shadows of the Sea. Stories of strange men and woman living in the sea began to rise to the surface once again. Tales of Sirens luring men into the deep, as the age of Human conquest, seaking the seas, and knowledge of other lands they had not yet conquered. Tales of Krakens and other sea monsters who did horrible things to ship wrecked ships.

Some Murkfolk began to adopt this identity. If they couldn’t enter the cities of the Sacred Atlanteans and were treated as monsters either way, they would take on the image of the horrible monsters the Humans and Atlanteans saw. While some more reasonable tried to corral the group of Murkfolk into security and safety. The earliest leader being Curantius, who began to persuade Murkfolk to not succumb to darkness in their hearts, not to succumb to dejection, but to embrace a new culture. Thus began the Murk Cities, built in underwater sea caves. Providing the Murkfolk protection and security.

Though some rejected even Curantius offer. They refused to be tamed, and refused to be leashed again. Some even traveled deep, deep into the depths, rejecting all notion of civilization. Atlantean and Murkfolk tell tales of the twisted forms Murkfolk have taken in the deep. Lights in the darkness and Murkfolk killing other Murkfolk and Sacred Atlanteans and Humans alike, relishing in the monster created by their perception.

Curantius

Thousands and thousands of years later Quairres, as all Tamura power has, has waned. Though it has flown in the bloodline of the Merkfolk long enough that they don’t need the Tamura to grant them gifts any longer. Has created a new dawn and age of thinking for the Atlanteans. Some who see the diminishing power of Quairres and his disappearance as a time for renewal. They question why the Murkfolk remain cursed, and they question why the Murkfolk couldn’t merge with the Sacred Atlanteans.

Though there are extremist on both sides. Murkfolk who felt persecuted for their whole lives and existent that ran deep in their history and memories, saw the cities as a sanctuary, and something of their renewal and rebirth, saw the Atlanteans desire to merge as an insult. Some even say that it is too late to request such a thing after many years of prejudice and outright denial. Their names cursed to the evil monstrosity man and Atlanteans made them out to be.

While the Sacred Atlanteans that were traditional saw what the Abyss Drifters have done to Atlanteans, the cruel, and twisted nature they have taken on and associated it with civilized Murkfolk. Seeing them as no different. That the curse has poisoned their mind, and corrupted it just as much as their corrupted forms. Even their King at the time mirrored these thoughts, he saw being a True Merfolk as something to be prideful in and out of vanity perhaps he saw the Murkfolk as nothing, but savage beast pretending in their cities in the Murk.

What Lurks in the Deep

There seemed to be no conclusion to this tale. A rift was beginning to become deeper and deeper changing the course of the bloodlines of Murkfolk, Abyss Drifters, and Sacred Atlanteans.

A Tide of Prejudice

With the dwindling power of the Tamura and the social conflict beginning to divide the Sacred Atlanteans themselves apart, there is a tale of bittersweet hope in all of the millenia the Atlanteans have lived. It begins with Cordelia, a beautiful sea maiden, blessed by the King himself for the beauty of her scales. Named for her beauty and declared a true daughter of the ocean. This was all before her ability to make memories though her family quickly became upper class in the Atlantean king and Cordelia grew up alongside then the Princess Arno - the current Queen of Atlantis today. Everyone praised Cordelia on her sacred beauty and there was an expectation that came with it, that she would hold the True Merfolk tradition alive.

Cordelia Gem of the Sea

On the other side of the ocean, in the Murk, in the largest Murk City, there too was a celebrated birth. The current Queen of the Murk city had a son of her own, Murrow named to honor his late father the greatest guardian of the Murk Cities. Naturally the Atlantean King of the Sacred Atlanteans heard the “royal” bloodline of the Murk had survived with the birth of Meredia’s only son and King Tundris grew wary of the Murkfolk’s plans.

A great miscommunication began to further create fear and paranoia in the Sacred Atlanteans who upheld the ideals of beauty and who believed themselves true Merfolk. The belief that the Murkfolk so attached to their identity would form an uprising. Though no one had ever spoken to Meredia before and Meredia continued to carry on the traditions of her foremothers. Upholding the ideals of Curantis and maintaining the peace between Atlantis and the Murk cities as best as she could.

Though the Abyss Drifters still provided a dangerous threat to the Atlanteans and her people. After all they were the ones who slew her husband. Tundris though fueled by ancient paranoia and suspicion kept a watchful eye on the Murk Cities, even hiring a Murkfolk with a large sum of shells and a promise to be allowed into Atlantis if he fed him information of the Murkfolk movements.

Neither made a move, but suspicion began to build a tense anticipation that a situation would erupt. And erupt it did. During one of the Abyss Drifters attacks, Atlantean guards and Murkfolk warriors warded these individuals off, but in the process of warding them off an important figure in the Sacred Atlanteans hierarchy was slain. The Royal Guard Hersies. The guard Tundris had already arranged with Cordelia’s parents to marry Cordelia when she grew old enough.

Tundris swore this a plot from the Murkfolk. More and more hatred spewed from the Sacred Atlanteans against the Murkfolk. An outcry. Cordelia was not and was never known as the soft spoken, say nothing woman as the Tundris like to pass her off as. Tundris viewed her as a passive woman who looked pretty and something to marvel at for the next genetic bloodline. Though Cordelia was the most outspoken of the situation and suggested they speak to the Murkfolk instead of pass judgment. Many laughed her off and scoffed and told her she didn’t understand the history. Cordelia rolled her eyes, she understood.

Cordelia decided after an important meeting to sneak off to the Murk. Naturally the Murkfolk were wary of her, but Meredia allowed her an audience with her. Curious as to what she wanted. It was the first time Murrow and Cordelia lay eyes on each other. Some would say it was love at first sight, others say that Murrow was magnetized to Cordelia’s beauty. But that was the first time they set eyes on each other and heard each other speak.

Murrow Shadow Trickster

Cordelia was surprised at how reasonable Meredia was in comparison to Tundris, and she convinced the Murk Queen to try and seek an audience with Tundris. Meredia agreed.

Months after the exchange news of Meredia and Tundris meeting had spread through Atlantis. Those who believed in welcoming the Murkfolk, talked excitedly while the ones who held more traditional views saw the meeting as a farce. Tundris himself was unsure, as their audience grew closer. Though the Tundris and Meredia audience wasn’t the only exchange going on. For the last few months Cordelia had slipped out in the cover of the calming seas to speak with Murrow. They exchanged words and had a lot of deep conversation Cordelia was missing in her life as the most beautiful merwoman of her city.

Murrow and Cordelia began to grow a deep affection for each other during this short period of time and both saw hope in the future for their people.

The audience with Meredia and Tundris did not go off without a hitch . A plot in the works to assassinate Meredia had been unveiled, which caused more divide. The conversation between Murkfolk and Sacred Atlanteans drew further apart instead of closer together.

But who drew closer together was Murrow and Cordelia. Who spent many moons and many tides speaking with each other. Deep, enriching conversations, not just admiration of her beauty stole Cordelia’s heart. And someone who saw Murrow for the heart he had is what drew each other near.

Eventually the two had their first son in secret, Ohdan. Named for his strength, the two parents had to make a decision. Whether or not the child would remain with the Murkfolk with Murrow or with Cordelia in Atlantis. The two decided that he would stay with Cordelia. Unsure of the origins of the father, Cordelia’s son was still accepted, reluctantly into Sacred Atlanteans cities. Questions of who the father was and suspicions of Ohdan’s origins were quelled considering while he may be slightly out of place in comparison to other True Merfolk, he seemed not quite like the Murkfolk.

For many years the lovers exchanged Ohdan in secret, passing him off to one another. Raising him to love others and accept them no matter the differences. Teaching him sea combat, innovation, until he grew up to a strong young adolescent, Cordelia fell pregnant with their second child. Murrow and Cordelia were both nervously ecstatic. Ohdan more young and curious to understand the social pressure Murrow and Cordelia were under with their relationship.

Their second child born was named Lyrico. And he was not well received. The Atlanteans viewed him as ugly and gross. It outed the relationship of Murrow and Cordelia out, and King Tundris in his old age saw it as a plot against him. Having children with a Murkfolk sneaking them into the kingdoms of Altantis under his nose.

Rumors of King Tundris plotting to take down the Murkfolk cities and kill Meredia and Murrow in the process began to spread and Cordelia feared for her children’s life, who were forced out of Atlantis once it was discovered who the father was. Worried and scared she fled Atlantis to inform Meredia and Murrow. Another act Tundris would view as traitorous.

Murrow assuring the safety of himself and her children, the parents both made a decision. The children would learn and grow on the surface, away from this prejudice divide. Murrow would take the children, watch them grow from the ocean and in exchange Cordelia would try to pacify King Tundris’ rage by offering herself up as a prisoner.

Reluctant at first to go Ohdan finally agreed, said his goodbyes to his mother and his father and him broke towards the Human world. Where Ohdan would raise his younger brother on the surface and Murrow would keep them safe ,from King Tundris or his soon to be coronated daughter Queen Arno, by guarding the seas close to where the boys resided.

Surface Living

“You’re really putting me in charge of a baby,” a mohawk teenager says, holding onto his younger brother. Thick locks of black and down below where feet should be were eight wiggling tentacles, happy as could be. He has no idea what they are losing. He has no idea why they are danger in the first place. On one hand Ohdan wanted to blame him, but he’s just a baby he has no idea what has happened down there. Murrow, their father, his hair similar to Lyrico’s except blonde, thick, very thick to be considered hair like seaweed stares at him.

“We’re really putting you in charge of a baby,” Murrow tells him, hoisting himself up a little to lean on the dock a bit, his massive black tentacles spread across the surface of the water like a fisherman’s net. Each curling around each other and unfurling like retractable claws.

“But, look at him,” Ohdan says raising the baby up and hovering him over the dock. Lyrico just laughs and sneezes some seafoam, his tentacles moving in similar fashion to Murrow.

“I am,” Murrow tells Ohdan with a raise of his brow.

“His legs,” Ohdan remarks.

Murrow rolls onto his back, which spreads his hair across the wooden floorboards. He looks exhaustingly towards the moon, “The benefits of having your mother’s and my genes is that he’ll grow out of that. He’ll have people legs in no time. It’s best you consider some Human name too.”

“You’re putting me in charge of that too?!” Ohdan protest, “Why can’t you come up here too? Why can’t you help us?”

Murrow looks at Ohdan’s upside down shape.

“Isn’t that obvious, your mother has bought your freedom by imprisoning herself, but that doesn’t mean Arno or Tundris will ever accept that as enough payment,” his father tells him, “I’m here at the water’s edge to keep them from finding you. Your mother and I have made great sacrifices and I know it hurts, but we trust you.”

Ohdan scoffs, “Dad please.”

Murrow’s body begins to slip down the dock as he begins to slowly descend back into the war, “Tah for now. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

The next day,

The human city is noisy and crowded. There is an odd smell he doesn’t think anyone else notices and he’s ducked into a shop that smells odd. He’s never smelled paper before, but he’s not sure he likes it. Ohdan huffs as he places the stroller to the side. He’s done his best to cover Lyrico’s tentacles up with a blanket, but he hears some human girls giggling watching him as he picks up a baby name book. He turns his gaze towards them and they shy away, they are about his age, sort of. Actually he’s not sure how Humans count their age. He kind of awkwardly waves at them and begins to thumb through the book real quick. As briefly as he can, it isn’t like he’s going to buy it. Just need a name. Finally one of the girls walks over to him.

“Hi,” she says, why do humans talk so loud?

Ohdan covers his ears at first, “What do you want?”

“My friends thought you were really cute, and is this your baby?” she ask looking at the stroller.

“No, he’s my brother,” he says, “Our parents aren’t around.”

She looks sadly at Lyrico.

“Oh I am sorry,” she says.

“Yeah we just moved here,” Ohdan replies, continuing to thumb through the book. She kind of laughs.

“And I’m also to believe you don’t have names,” she says looking at the book.

“Oh um, we have names, we have names, this was for a friend, she’s older, like a mom figure to us,” Ohdan says.

“And those names are?” the girl ask.

Quickly glances down at the page his thumb has stopped before she notices, “Lukas. And um I am Robert.”

Wait she actually likes me

Where is she? His brother was laughing at him last week about the whole thing. He told him that the girl likely wouldn’t remember him just because he defended her haircut. He’s been trying to track her down ever since and she keeps avoiding him, missing him? He’s not so sure. Does he sound like a stalker? Especially considering he mentioned her and described her to nearly a bajillion girls it felt like. Will she show up? Maybe Robert’s right. A girl who barely notices him in class and he defended her haircut - once likely isn’t too into him. But he’s got to try right?

“You wanted to talk,” holy shit she came.

“Nadia, right?” he ask, “I asked a girl for your name. Sorry. That’s weird right. I...um…”

“-Lukas,” she cut off, she blushes, “I asked for your name too after last week.”

“Oh, well that’s cool, um yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he averts his eyes.

“Yeah, I am fine, thank you,” Nadia replies with a smile.

“Um yeah...um...uh,” he replies.

She twiddles with her fingers.

“Sooo,” she remarks.

“Yeah,” he responds.

“Yeah,” she replies.

“You like movies?” this was a lot easier in the version of her in the mirror this morning. Less easy when she’s right in front of him. He can’t get things to come out the way he’d like them to. Again Robert just laughed at him about it, said that’s natural and it’s just a crush.

“Yes,” she replies looking confused, she’s tapping her foot. He’s boring her. She gives him another wide grin. Robert’s the one who has been raising him for the last thirteen years, the least he could have taught him was how to talk to girls.

“Um...cause...uh there is a movie and I’d like to see it…” he pauses and swallows his spit, “with you. I mean….like if you don’t have a boyfriend. With...how pretty you are….I expect….you have one cool boyfriend who’s like super awesome and can talk proper sentences.”

She laughs. And turns pink.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she replies, “I’d...love...to go see...a movie with you. I just...thought...with um how cute you are...you’d have a girlfriend already.”

He’s died. She called him cute.

“Awesome, I mean cool,” he tries to lean on the wall, only to slip a bit. He gives her an awkward smile.

“Time?” she ask.

Time? Oh time, right of the movie. That makes sense. Right.

“Evening,” she giggles, “Uh 5.”

“5 sounds good,” Nadia replies.

Fishberty

“Robert!” Lukas’ shouting from the bathroom. He knows he’s not going to go in their right? Teenagers can be so dramatic, he’s probably out of something, or seen a spider. He needs to learn how to deal with that on his own. Now, what to make for dinner?

“Robert!” he hopes at fifteen he wasn’t this overly dramatic. Tuna macaroni sounds good, the bathroom door slams open. Just pretend ignore him, he’s probably going to do what he needs to do. Turning around to put a box of macaroni onto the counter he sees Lukas naked. He slams some bubbling, soapy foam onto the counter.

“You know you don’t need to show me that, just keep that in private,” he replies, Lukas is not amused and not that he thinks about it. Ah his hair look like tentacles, his hands are webbed and his skin is turning black. Shit. Right. Is it time?

“Gross,” Lukas tells him, “And it’s coming out of my hair.”

“Ah yeah,” Robert scratches the back of his head, “I can um see that.”

“Well, are you going to say something?!” Lukas ask him. He hasn’t thought about Atlantis in a long time.Sure he visits their dad from time to time, but he always has the kind of lackadaisical response that makes him question what mother ever saw in him. He can’t explain it to Lukas. Or he’s not sure how he’s supposed to do so. What’s the right way to do it? Surprise, you’re from an underwater city that is currently going through a racial divide. He can’t. Actually he’s not sure. Robert groans.

“Get in the car and cover yourself up,” Robert tells him. Lukas gives him a side eye.

“My hair is foaming and the only thing you can tell me is get in the car naked!” Lukas remarks.

“You’re the one who ran out the bathroom so dramatically,” Robert stresses. Lukas mutters something under his breath.

“I’ll go find a towel,” he wanders off, probably towards the linen closet. Fucking Quairris. What now? What’s going to happen once Lukas finds out about Atlantis? All he can imagine is them heading towards the beach to find their father and him springing into the sea, towel flying in the wind to go find Atlantis and their mother. Probably thinks he can save her. He’s a teenager of course he thinks that, he wouldn’t understand the years of prejudice or the difference between Murkfolk and Sacred Atlanteans. How could he? He thinks he’s in love with a girl he’s went on a date twice. And their father. What does he expect him to say? The few conversations he has had with him, the only passing thought is his father slinking off into the shadowy depths of the ocean and him a head full of muddier thoughts thanks to him. Yet, here he was leading Lukas off to the sea, to their father. The only man who could possibly know what to tell Lukas or just confuse him more.

Why couldn’t Lukas just discover he had tentacle legs or something? He’s got bubbles coming out of his hair. Lukas comes back with a towel he’s pinned together with a close pin.

“Ready,” Lukas tells him.

“All I can say is that there’s going to be a lot to take in and I want you to be prepared,” Robert tells him. Lukas tilts his head to the side, his head wrapped in a purple towel looking like a turban.

“Suspicious,” he simply murmurs at him.

**

Where could Robert be taking him? And why can’t he just tell him. There’s a pit developing in his stomach, oh no what if he’s an experiment! Or an Ultra. Would Nadia still like him after what he learns? What if she just starts wretching if his hair continues to be a bubble bath with tentacles? Roberts never told him much about the past their parents. What if he’s taking him to a secret lab and he’ll be imprisoned? Or maybe his video games are getting too much into his head. The car finally stops, they have said nothing since they got in the car. Staring out to the ocean, Lukas tilts his head again.

“Why are we at the beach, at night?” Lukas ask Robert.

“Keep your towel on and don’t go mooning anyone in the apartments who might like a nice view,” Robert tells him.

Lukas grumbles. He’s gotten nothing out of Robert this whole car ride and he’s beginning to get a bit annoyed with Robert. What’s so important that he can’t say it?! Why is he taking him to the beach in the middle of the night? As Lukas opens the door and gets out of the car, slowly closing it he scowls at Robert hoping he knows he is displeased. Slamming the door shut - no! Stupid towel! Get unstuck! Don’t want to be naked in public! Get out of the door!

“You got it?” Robert ask him.

“I’m fine,” Lukas says managing to free himself from the door without any accidents. Robert shakes his head and starts to walk towards the beach. Gross his skin is all sticky, he can feel his blacken feet picking up pebbles as he follows Robert. He tries to burrow a hole through his skull. Glare. Glare. Glare. I am mad at you. I am mad at you.

“I can feel you,” Robert tells him.

“Well-” he can’t think of anything good to say, “You deserve it.”

Just like the car ride, they just walk, and glaring at Robert only hurting his face so he just stares at the sand. It feels different on his skin, it’s not as course, more like he’s walking on something cushiony. The apartments disappear behind a cove, lights begin to disappear and the stars are more apparent out here. It’s like they have found some kind of secluded spot no one else knows about, and if he wasn’t upset - not even sure why any more - he’d admire its beauty more. Maybe he can take Nadia here!

“Hey look I really need your help this time,” Robert is speaking to someone.

He moves aside. Holy fish man! No seriously there’s an octopus man, lying on his back in the sand, wearing an oddly specific suit piece on his upper half, the buttons are seashells, and the rest of his body is six feet in length of tentacles, just curling and unfurling. And is he painting his nails?

“Um, hello,” Lukas mumbles all his anger has dissipated to confusion.

The man slowly turns his head towards him, “Hello son.”

Robert smacks his head to his palm. And Lukas feels a sense of dizziness. Son? Lukas takes a second and sits down on the beach.

“You’re- my dad- my dad is an octopus,” Lukas stutters.

“I prefer the human term, what is it again,” he places a hand to his chin, “A fabulpus.”

“That’s...not even a word,” Lukas remarks, “What is going on here! Why did a man….with tentacles and terrible puns call me son?!”

Murrow looks at Robert, “You didn’t tell him?”

“What was I going to say, I was worried he’d leap into the ocean and do something reckless,” Robert replies.

“For one, we don’t leap into the ocean,” Murrow tells him, “We gently slither into the water and let the tide take us. We’re not dolphins, have more class than that.”

“Hello! Confused teenager here!” Lukas shouts at them.

Murrow sits up. Lukas eyes widen and he feels a shiver down his spine as he watches as Murrow’s tentacles begin to slowly shrink upwards in what feels like slow motion. Like watching evolution within seconds, eight tentacles, become a pair of legs and black slacks. Dusting himself off Murrow stands up.

“Well let’s unconfuse that young mind of yours,” Murrow says petting the top of Lukas’ head.

This is so weird. This is so not happening. His whole entire life is a giant question mark. What is going? Why was it kept from him?

Murrow turns his heads towards him, “I’d like to tell you before you lash out at me with any biting youthful comments. It was not my idea to withhold the truth from you - that’s all on Ohdan.” Murrow gives Robert a look. Ohdan?

Robert looks a bit nervous and scratches the back of his neck, “It isn’t like you gave me an instruction manual.”

“I’ve never kept the truth from you,” Murrow tells him.

“Yeah, but you haven’t made it very clear either,” Robert replies.

Is it bad that he’s annoyed they have more of a relationship than he should have with this man?

“Truth doesn’t mean I have an obligation to tell you something right away, it is illuminating the path and your choice to take it,” Murrow replies.

“Yeah well sometimes I just want an answer,” Robert tells him, “Lukas got foam coming out of his hair and well you seen his skin. I want you to be able to explain it without your - just make it clear for him.”

My Boyfriend is a Fish

Atlantis, huh? Pushing around some noodles Robert has made nothing has really changed from last night. Well, where they live or anything about them? Not sure what he expected. The story is rough and the reason why Robert didn’t tell him was because he was afraid he’d go towards the sea to save their mother. Sounds like something Robert wants to do. Something he’s thought about a lot. Is the only reason he hasn’t because of him? He studies Robert. Robert raises his brow.

“You’re not eating,” Robert mentions.

“It’s just weird,” he replies.

Robert shrugs. Yeah he gets to shrug. He gets to shrug because he lived in Atlantis for sixteen years and he has all the memories of the world in the water. Where as he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to him because he’s kept to himself. Sure - Murrow already chastised him for this, but he doesn’t get to treat it so nonchalantly because it doesn’t matter to him.

“I know that look,” Robert grumbles.

“Yeah because you treat it like it doesn’t matter,” he retorts.

Robert sighs, “Because it doesn’t. Because if it does, it’s much harder to put it behind me.”

“So it’s about you!? And not me,” Lukas shoves his plate aside, “I have a life here! And I am….I am not even human. I have a girlfriend-

-you have went on two dates,” Robert cuts him off, “those kind of relationships don’t last. I know it seems important to you right now, but you’re going to break up someday with her and find another girl. No one stays with the same person forever, and when they do it’s because they have a real connection.”

“My connection with Nadia isn’t real, either!” Lukas exclaims.

Robert groans and rubs his temples, “You’re fifteen.”

“Thanks, thanks for dismissing everything that actually matters to me,” Lukas stands up.

“It only matters now because life feels immediate right now Lukas, I know that feeling. But you’ll mellow out, be rational about it,” Robert replies.

He’s not listening to him any more. He’s looking for his shoes and his coat. Robert watches him as he puts on his canvas shoes and grabs his coat.

“Where the hell are you going at this hour?” Robert ask standing up.

“Talking to someone who cares!” Lukas shouts opening the door and slamming it shut. Shoes hitting the concrete stairs as he runs down them. He stops midway staring at their apartment. A tiny bit of nervousness bubbles inside of him. What if Robert is right? What if he goes to see Nadia and she wants nothing to do with him afterwards? Robert doesn’t understand it, his life is somewhat different now and it isn’t. His vision is going blurry. Stupid tears. Stupid Robert! It would have been better if he was a mad scientist evil experiment because then he could justify not having a normal life because he got captured by an evil scientist. This. This. This just hurts. Because - what am I supposed to do with this information? Go on with life pretending like he doesn’t know?

Guess he just has to get this over with. Either Robert is right. Or he proves him wrong. Wiping his face. Stupid.

**

“I heard you’ve been seeing a boy,” Nadia raises her head from her plate, staring at her father. He’s home for the weekend and then he disappears for the week, in another city, in another state. Sometimes it feels like he’s a complete stranger trying to probe into her personal life. He knows so little about her it feels sometimes.

“Well, we have been on two dates,” she mentions, her mother is watching her. She already knows what she thinks about Lukas. They’ve already had a talk after their second date. She tries to remain level headed like she’s being reasonable about it, if she admitted anything else she’d never hear the end of it. How mother has met several men before their father, she doesn’t know what true affection is. It’s the stance adults take. Her brother is watching as well. There’s a cheeky smile on his face, as he’s not in the spotlight right now.

“I see,” he says, “Where to?”

“Just the movies,” she replies.

“What do his parents do?” he ask.

She just wanted to eat dinner without an interrogation, but she knew this would happen. She swirls around a piece of ravioli in sauce, smearing it like tomato sauce watercolor.

“They are dead,” she scrunches up her face, it’s what she assumes since they don’t seem to be a part of Lukas life. And there are no photos of them in their apartment as she recalls. She watches as her father raises a brow.

“I see,” is all he says putting it in his mental checklist, “Does he have any family?”

“His brother, he’s raised him,” she replies.

“And what does he do?” her father ask.

“Works at a department store,” she mumbles.

“I see,” he says again.

“Can, I be excused?” she ask.
Her father stares at her. She hates when he does that. He has more questions, but she’s beginning to break under the pressure. She’s trying to stop her hand from shaking or from getting too angry or upset. Just be the good girl. Just be the good girl.

“What is the excuse?” her father ask her.

“I...have...a lot of homework to do,” she mutters.

He gives her a look. She looks away. He knows she’s trying to run away. He wants to keep her at the table. But he just sighs. It’s because he’s probably exhausted from work.

“Go, your mother and I have a lot to discuss about this boy,” he tells her.

She quickly slips off before another thing is mentioned. Running quickly off towards her bedroom, she finally lets tears fall. They don’t even try to get to know Lukas. Her mother met him just briefly and gave him the work, it was so unfair. They don’t understand the type of person he is. It isn’t like she just saw him and thought about dating him. They have the same classes, it isn’t like she didn’t notice him. She didn’t notice his feelings until they talked that day, or really the day he confessed. But what she did notice was an extremely loyal and kind boy in class who sometimes got taken advantage by the other kids because they took advantage of his empathy. Fleeing into her room, she closes the door and places her back towards the door frame.

Someone’s in the backyard. She cautiously walks towards her window, leaning over her computer desk.

“Oh hi,” Lukas? He’s standing at her window.

“Lukas?” she’s taken aback, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out which room window belong to which person,” he nervously laughs. She giggles. She needed this tonight, she slowly unlatches the window.

“You’re a terrible stalker,” she tells him, “You know that?”

“Yeah I probably would of gotten caught if I didn’t find the right window in time,” he tells her stumbling into her bedroom.

“Probably,” she says, “Why are you here?”

Lukas scowls and then averts his gaze, he moves over to the corner of her bed to brood for a second. He doesn’t realize how contemplative he can be. But she knows something is hurting him deeply. She’s been glad and happy to see these sides of him, beside the guy in class who doesn’t let others take him down. She likes to know he can take down his defenses.

“Robert and I got into an argument,” he replies.

She takes a second. Her heart flutters. The very first thing he considers doing after an argument is come to her? Is it wrong to feel special when he’s troubled. That he thought of her as someone to come to. She sits near him.
“What about?” she ask him putting a hand on his back in a comforting matter.

“Everything all at once, and it’s all complicated, tied together into one really tight knot,” he looks confused.

“Well start at one end,” she tells him.

“You,” he mentions quickly.

She knows that. Though she never got the feeling Robert be the type to forbid Lukas from seeing her.

“Oh,” she says.

“It’s complicated - more complicated than that,” he tells her, he stands up. He’s wrestling with something.

“My parents don’t really like you much,” she confesses him in hopes to ease his mind.

He pauses, “It’s not that. He says our feelings aren’t grown yet. And that….well things are different now. They’ll be different forever now.”

Wait? What’s going on? She thought she’d understand, but now she’s just confused. There’s a pit developing in her stomach. If this is a breakup, it’s really awkward. And if it isn’t, then she’s lost completely track of what’s going on. Tight knot indeed.

“Okay I thought tackling this at a string at time would help, but I am completely at a lost,” she tells him.

He looks at her computer desk, “Look I like you. I like you a lot. And I don’t want to lie to you. I want to be honest with you. Someone I just met a day ago said something that the truth is meant to guide people on their path and I want you to make the decision. I want you to make the decision. Because I don’t know what the right answer is. I am kind of impulsive sometimes and if it were just left up to me…..I wouldn’t put you through this. But that isn’t fair.”

“Just tell me Lukas,” Nadia stands up grabbing his hand, “Because right now I am really not understanding.”

Lukas stares at her and takes a deep breath, “Okay.” he says. He exhales and then inhales, “Okay. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you when.”

Okay? He better not be proposing. It’s way too early for that. She closes her eyes. Her heart is racing. Her stomach is squirming. She’s confused. Scared. Not sure.

“You can look,” he says.

It better not be a ring. Please don’t be a weirdo. Please don’t be a weirdo. Don’t let her judgment be all wrong. Opening her eyes. Lukas, is? His skin is black, his hands are slightly webbed and so are his feet. His hair has become, tentacles? They are foaming? Foam is surrounding his neck like a fur scarf. He looks a bit like an aquatic prince. She feels sudden relief, it isn’t a ring. He’s just - an Ultra? His eyes glow a bit more in this form, she’s not sure how to react.

“I..um...what’s going on?” she finds her words.

“There is more -” he mumbles.

“Oh...oh? You want me to close my eyes, again?” she ask.

“Like...you’re okay with this?” he ask her.

She looks at him. Studies him.

“It’s...um...different, but I can get….use to it….I mean you’re not planning to go to school like this?” she ask him.

“No, fuck no,” he replies.

“Oh...oh...yeah, that’s a good idea,” she says, how does she even begin to process, aquatic prince? And there is more. More what?, “You want to….there’s more.”

“Yeah, close your eyes,” he says.

“Okay,” she closes her eyes. It feels like she’s waiting forever. She holds her eyes tightly. She thinks she can hear Lukas talking himself up. You got this. Just tell her when.

Which puts her at ease, but she’s not sure she’s prepared for what he’s about to show her. She could get use to the aquatic prince look, but what’s next? Full octopus head. Tentacles for a mouth. Full Cthulhu monster.

“Okay, I think I am ready,” he tells her.

She slowly begins to open her eyes. In hazy vision. More tentacles. Superpowers were fine, but she’s not sure how she’ll react if he’s not entirely humanoid. Like if he is Cthulhu she doesn’t know if she can be into that. She finally opens her eyes. She has to hold onto her mouth so her mother doesn’t hear her gasp. She takes a step back. It’s he’s!? Beautiful. Sure the tentacles are weird and she’s not sure how that works - physically. Oh god Nadia why would you think about this in the moment. But even more glowing foam surrounds him, the foam is like - more like floating jewels around him and he maintains a lot of himself. He really is like some aquatic prince and she’s beginning to question her aesthetic when this is okay to her. More than okay to her.

“I...uh…” she can’t find the words.

“You hate it,” he says.

“No...I didn’t say that,” she quickly retorts, she doesn’t want him to get the wrong impression, “I’m just...stunned...trying to find the words.”

She watches as the glistening sea boy flops onto her bed. She’s going to have to wash her sheets afterward.She wish he wasn’t so hard on himself.

“I think, you look… like royalty,” she says, there we go she’s found her words again. He rolls onto the side, his tentacles curling and then uncurling.

“You don’t have to say things to make me feel better,” he mumbles.

“I am not that type of girl,” she remarks at him. Scowling briefly at his back side and sitting on the bed. She puts her hand on his skin. It’s, um, glossy and smoother than what she was expecting, softer too. Fish normally are slippery, right, but this is like, she’s not even sure how to explain it, “I just don’t normally expect the boys I date to turn into fish.”

“Technically, I am an arthropod,” he murmurs sadly.

Is he really going to correct her on his genus right now? She watches as his tentacles begin to shrink up. She once again is startled to watch within a few short seconds his tentacles turn into his black little webbed feet.

“It’s the same thing, it’s still aquatic,” she retorts.

“....just be honest with me” he murmurs.

“I am being honest, it’s not so bad,” she tells him, “I mean…” that came out wrong, as he shies furth away from her, “...imagine all the other things right now. If those lips I like were replaced by tentacles-

“-eww,” he cuts her off.

She giggles, “Or your eyes. They are already as deep as the ocean and now they shimmer like gems.”

“This isn’t really helping,” he’s now talking through her sheets.

She sighs and flops on her back side, “Do you remember what you told that boy?”

“Which one?” he says through her sheets.

“The one who told me he doesn’t date girls with short hair,” she continues.

“Yeah, I said I like girls with short hair,” he replies.

“I don’t think you’ve ever judged someone based on their appearance before Lukas, sure physical attraction is part of it - but what I like about you was you were willing to stand up for someone other than yourself for no praise or credit. You did it because it’s you,” she says, there are her words, “what kind of person would I be to judge you based on your physical appearance when you didn’t judge me based on mine? I don’t think it would have mattered to you whether or not I had short or long hair. Because you’re not that type of person and I don’t want to be that type of shallow person either.”

“Well, it’s easy to like you beyond your hair, you’re smart and have a really great laugh, you’re more mature than other kids in the class, and you’re really nice to everyone you meet,” he replies, “You’re genuine. Which is weird because most people aren’t.”

“Well you are genuine too,” she says, she feels her heart rushing again and her cheeks going hot. He thinks all those things about her, “I mean if you weren’t, then I wouldn’t have you on my bed right now with tentacles and foam coming out of your hair. You’d be in your apartment, not caring what I thought about you. But you came here. And that’s admirable. You came here and told me the truth. I much rather date a boy who turns into a fish-”

He turns to finally look at her and she smiles at him sticking out her tongue, “-then a phony guy. A guy who wouldn’t come to my house in the middle of the evening to show me another side of himself. I really believe you really like me, because you showed me this tonight.”

“Well I only found out last night,” he tells her, “I was really worried you’d break up with me. Because I am not human.”

Not human?

“I am not going to breakup with you just because you have - another form,” she pauses and looks at him, “There is more to this? Isn’t there?”

“Uh yeah,” he turns pink, “Sorry...I…”

“No addressing it at a time is fine,” she says, “So tell me the rest.”

“Yeah sure,” he says, he suddenly gets up, “Shit sorry. I didn’t think about the bed.”

She giggles, “It’s fine, it’s already soaked. Come back down and tell me the rest.”

Responsibility of Power

“Did you hear that Elaine got attacked last night?” some girls are talking and yes she’s eavesdropping. Kayla and Janice are gathered around Megan’s desk. All three girls are talking in that obnoxious tone, the one where they are pretending to be covert, but they also want whomever is in class to hear them.

“Is she okay?” Janice gasp sounding shock.

“A few bruises, but she’s scared to walk home,” Kayla replies.

Megan fixes her hair, “She’s probably making it up. Knowing Elaine she over dramatizes everything.” Except that Elaine’s desk is empty today and she didn’t go to school. She’s been hearing rumors about girls getting attacked around their neighborhood. Honestly, what are the police doing? Wish there was a way she could get behind these attacks and stop whomever is doing so. But that’s, vigilantism? And considering all that’s been going on with Ultras in the news and vigilante heroes - she’d just get arrested despite the actual criminal getting away.

Kayla notices she is watching. They lock eyes.

“Dyke girl is listening in,” Kayla tells Janice.
Dammit. Nadia slowly lifts up the hood of her sweater, as if she could use it as an invisibility cloak. Though the three of them have already spotted her. She can feel each of their gaze on her right now. She doesn’t want to deal with them right now, but they are coming over anyway.

“Don’t worry,” Janice begins, “no one is going to attack you on the sidewalk, because you’re not a pretty girl.”

Megan snorts a laugh.

“They may as well mistake you for a man,” Kayla pipes up. The three of them begin to laugh.

“Hey at least I am not going to look like a raisin when that guy attacks you, because you’re all pretty girls,” Nadia retorts quickly.

They would have said something, but the door to the classroom opens almost immediately as the bell rings. The rest of the kids are all trying to rush out of the classroom before the teachers notice they all left before he got back from his bathroom break. She’s quickly trying to gather her stuff, before those three decided to spite her. Too late. They are surrounding her desk.

“Nadia!” Lukas is shouting against the crowd. The three of them scowl disappointingly. As the crowd of students begin to thin, she sees Lukas pushing against them like they are the sea and he can part them. He looks at the three girls. They give him a brief look of disgust.

“Do you have lunch?” he ask her with a big grin on his face.

She gives him a side eye.

“Yeah,” she says.

He looks disappointed.

“Oh,” he says.

“Why?” she ask, “It’s just a peanut butter jelly sandwich because my mother cannot be bothered for a quality lunch.” she scrunches up her face to imitate her mother, “I didn’t get fancy lunches when I was a kid, I don’t see why kids these days are so entitled into thinking they deserve anything more than a ham sandwich, a vegetable, a fruit, and something to drink.”

“Toss it,” he tells her.

“Or give it to someone,” she pauses, “But why?”

Lukas looks excited, “So, you know what anime is right?”

“Those Japanese cartoons, right, what about them?” she ask him, but he’s already taking out plastic tupperware.

“I don’t have any obento boxes, but I figured that tupperware kind of looks like an obento and I made lunch,” he says.

“I don’t even know what an obento box is,” she says, but as he lifts the lids it doesn’t even matter. He’s put so much thought and effort into this. He’s made some really cute tea sandwiches, seems like cucumber, and mayo? One of the compartments, a yellowed rolled thing, with radish and stuff.

“That’s tamago, those are tea sandwiches, that’s kimchi, and that’s rice,” he tells her pointing things out.

“This is really sweet,” he’s really brought a smile to her face. And brighten up her day. Dealing with those girls is a pain,

“Yeah in anime, couples - well normally to show affection one of them makes obento for their partner,” he smiles.

“Dork, but sweet,” he’s such a weird boy.

**

He’s glad she’s smiling, he knows dealing with those girls can be exhausting for her. Though something is on her mind. Something’s bothering her.

“You okay?” he ask her as she finishes a bite of cucumber sandwich.

“Have you heard about the attacks?” she ask him.

Girls walking at night getting attacked, yeah he has. He slowly nods.

“You want me to walk you home?” he ask her.

She smiles, but that’s not what’s bothering her. He can tell.

“Sure, but that’s not the issue,” she says, “Where are the police? Why hasn’t the attacker been caught yet?”

She’s got a point. Yeah sure investigations take a while, but there hasn’t been increased police activity in the area. And there is an active attacker, how hard is to miss?

“You have a point,” he says, “No one is patrolling the area. And you’d think with how frequent the attacks have been, someone would have seen him or caught him. He’s doing out on the sidewalk. Someone’s had to notice. Right?”

She nods slowly chewing.

“It’s like when there is a crime, nothing happens, but they can stop a speeder from speeding,” she huffs finally.

Lukas puts down his sandwich and looks at the floor. She’s right though. Girls are scared to walk home and to school. A girl’s been put in the hospital. Shouldn’t this bother more people? All he ever sees on the news is stuff that is harrowing, but no one seems to care too much about this small crime. Small in their community, sure. But big to people because they are scared.

“Wish there was something more we can do,” Lukas mentions.

He watches as Nadia’s eye light up. She looks at him and stands up slamming her hands on the desk. He nearly loses balance, she’s quite - forward. What is she going to do now?

“There is,” she declares.

“There is?”he gives her a slight look of confusion.

“Yes,” she says with intense passion, “From now on, until we see something me and you are patrolling our neighborhood.”

“Then what?” he ask her.

“You apprehend him,” she says.

“Wait I am?” he ask her.

“The news is riddled with Ultra vigilantes, well why not another one, one who actually stops a criminal from terrorizing a community. You can use your goop-

-mucus,” he slightly corrects her.

“And stick them to the walls,” she says.

That’s a lot to thrust on him so suddenly? She’s just decided that he should be, a hero? It’s nice that she believes in him like this. It’s just. That’s a lot of pressure.

“Do I get any say in this?” he ask her.

Nadia looks at him, her gaze is fierce, “No. Why would you?” she ask him, “You have powers. It be like if you were sitting on a wand that could make evil disappear and not use it. You said it yourself, you wish you could do something. So let’s do something.”

Jeez. She’s really pushing this on him. She’s right though, in a way. That someone’s got to do something. Someone’s got to take a stand. But he’s also just a guy who can make bubbles. He’s really about to become the hero whose powers are sea based, but he’s on the surface so he can’t do the extra cool sea stuff on land lame hero.

“Okay, but we’ll need a plan,” he tells her.

Nadia squeals, moves around the table and kisses his cheek, “I knew you wouldn’t let people down.”

His face goes hot. Why does she make it easy for him to make a decision like this?

1 Psycho Bat Wielder Down

Three nights of patrol and he had two worries, if a girl from school finds him sneaking around at night she might think he’s the one assaulting girls, or that he’s a pervert. Following around other, what the other kids would consider pretty. The sheer embarrassment. He continues to follow Kayla around, she stops to look into a compact mirror to fix her lipstick. She’s not so worried about the attacks now, for the last three nights she’s been sneaking out of her house to meet a guy with a very expensive sports car. Honestly he’s been waiting for the guy to take a baton out of his trunk. Something has to happen. It’s been three nights. Hey at this angle, it’s like - someone else is in the mirror. Fuck. Welp this is going to be embarrassing. He jabs Nadia in the side.

Nadia looks at him, “I would have thought something happen by now.”

“She’s not alone,” he tells her, “I am going to talk to her.”

Nadia looks at his tentacle hair, “Like that?”

“What choice do I have?” he ask her, she’s starting to unzip her hoodie, and hands it to him.

“Keep your head low,” she tells him.

He looks at her, will this even fit him? He manages to get it around his arms, and to zip it up, but it’s a bit tight and his mucus is soaking through it. Nadia makes a face like he’s injured the hoodie.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, he draws up the hood and begins to walk across the street. It still begs the question why Kayla is the target. These attacks, seem random? But maybe there is a pattern to them. A pattern that maybe they are missing. Shit, she’ll recognize his voice. So much for a hood if he’s going to be recognized. Gah. Being a secret superhero is so difficult when it involves your classmates. He steps in front of Kayle, in a red dress that looks like it might belong to her mother, it’s too old for her in style and cut. Black pumps. Ruby red lips. Her bob has been curled. There’s something strange. Like someone is standing right next to her, shimmering almost. He can barely make it out.

“Helllo,” Kayla says annoyed at him, “Do you need something?”

Shit. If he says anything, she’ll know who he is. What should he do? Ugh. Being a hero for three days is the worse. Maybe he could. Moving his tentacles in front of his face, he lifts his hood up. Kayla sees a mass of tentacles all wiggling in front of her vision, seafoam bubbles out of suckers, she drops her makeup mirror. Her eyes are wide in fear and she immediately turns around, throwing her heels off she begins to run. As she turns around, there is it the shimmering person. He reaches out and grabs their arm.

Kayla keeps running. But he knows he has a hand on the person.

“Hey what the hell are you doing!” a girl shouts at him. It’s a girl? She’s wearing torn jeans, an orange tank top over a black top, a backwards cap and her hair is multitone. Blue and white. She’s got an eyepatch with an eye patch sewn on it. Uh he’s not sure if that’s clever or strange.

Pushing back his tentacles, to get them out of his eyes, she looks at him. Her eye widens a bit.

“So you are normal looking,” she says.

“Why were you hiding behind that girl?” Lukas ask her.

“What you like her? She’s dressed like a hooker,” she smells of tobacco, but she isn’t much older than him.

“No, but there are girls being attacked around here and I want to know if you have seen anything,” Lukas tells her.

She just laughs.

“Oh that’s rich, are you here to stop the attacker?” she mocks.

“Subdue them, and let the police take care of them,” Lukas tells her, “So, are you going to tell me why you’re out here?”

“Yeah sure, after” she grabs at her back like a video game character would unsheathe a weapon, a wooden bat with nails suddenly appears, “after I break in your skull!”

Needed a better plan! Needed a better plan! She swings the bat at him and he manages to just barely get out of its way. Holy fuck! Uh combat. He’s never been trained in it. Uh duh, the attacker been beating people up should have expected this idiot. Running down the sidewalk, he hears the girl behind him.

“Runnnning away are weee,” she yells out, “That’s not allowed.”

Shit! Shit! Ah stupid web feet run faster. Wham! The bat nearly hits him as it barely whiffs past the front of his face. Okay if he doesn’t want to be served at a sushi restaurant tonight he’s got to come up with something fast. Wait, she’s - as she’s recovering he rubs his hands together to create his mucus between his hands. This better work, he allows a bit of his mucus drop where she’s standing, she’s already raising the bat up. Hope to god this works, keeping the dripping mucus from his hands he quickly starts to run away from her. Well as quickly as he can. Leaving a trial of mucus.

“Shouldn’t picked fights with people you can’t beeaa…….” as she runs after him, she slips on the puddle he has made in front of her feet early, she goes sliding down the sidewalk, crashing into a fire hydrant. Ouch. But that works, quickly running towards where she has landed, he grabs a handful of his seafoam. He quickly grabs her wrist before she can lift it up and sticks it to the sidewalk. She looks at him wide eye.

“Hey what are you doing to me!” she ask, “Gross! I am not into men that way!” she spits at him.

“Eugh, no I am just making sure you can’t move till the police get here,” he coats her baseball bat with seafoam. That should make it less dangerous. “CALL THE POLICE!” he shouts towards the bushes just across the street. All he sees is a thumb shoot up from the bush.

“Grrah, you’re a traitor to your kind,” she hisses at him.

“Strange thing about that, I am not an Ultra,” he shrugs, “Peace. Have a goodnight.” He runs off towards where Nadia is hiding.

Kids Can't Pull the Wool Over my Eyes

Do these kids really believe he’s an idiot? They think they can pull a fast one on him. The hiding in Luka’s bedroom, secretly planning something likely. Holding onto the snack bowl, he barges into the room. Both Nadia and Lukas look at him quickly trying to push aside notebooks and papers. Robert raises a brow.

“I know when kids are plotting,” he says.

“We….aren’t plotting,” Lukas says, “We’re….just...doing homework.”

“In the last month or two, police have been describing crime scenes covered in slime and some vigilante hero sliming up other vigilantes,” Robert remarks looking at Lukas.

Lukas looks at him. Does he really think he couldn’t put things together? He raised him. More so than their parents did. Of course he’s going to know when his younger brother is out there fighting dangerous people. The hell do these kids think, he was born yesterday. Lukas sighs and Nadia looks away sadly at Lukas’ bed. Lukas bends down into a bow.

“Okay, you caught us,” Lukas tells him, “I promise not to do it again and I am sorry.”

Again, what do these kids think, that he’d believe something like that? No kid gives up that easily. Especially Lukas. It’s best not to fight this, this time. He just has to protect him at this point. Robert sighs and scratches the back of his head.

“You’re going to need an elite Altantean warrior on your team,” Robert says setting the snacks between the two. Nadia looks at him. Then at Lukas.

“Wait, you turn into a fish too?” Nadia ask Robert.

“I mean I prefer merman, but yeah I do,” Robert replies.

“Are we ignoring the fact that I am not a fish?” Lukas interjects.

“May I see?” Nadia ask.

Robert looks down at the carpet. He’d prefer not having to explain to the landlord what that strange ooze is in the carpet. He stands up.

“Come along to the bathroom, it has tile, easier to clean up,” Robert tells her.

“Don’t tell me you slime too,” Nadia says standing up. Lukas looks up at Nadia. Nadia smiles at him, “What I am curious.”

Paralyzed

Shit. No one told him fourteen years ago he’d be skulking around office buildings with his baby brother and his highly cheerful girlfriend. It seemed like a year ago that this was for the laughs. Little miscellaneous task. They seemed harmless enough. Sure they have gotten into tight scenarios, but none of this - he’s got a bad feeling on this one. Taking a tip about a plotted murder of some high profile CEO. Definitely murder being plotted. Security lying on the floor. And considering the color of their skin, they aren’t alive. Tapping the earpiece.

“Now talk softly for me,” Robert prefaces first, “but I think we should retreat.”

“Why?” Nadia tries her hardest to be quieter than her usual tone.

“There are dead people that’s why,” Robert huffs, kids. It’s fine if they are catching cat burglars, literal cat burglar. Some hinky demon, goblin guy, wasn’t really sure on what he is, with hair styled like horns using cats to feed his pet monster. It’s fine when old ladies are secretly super martial artist beating on young people, that was kind of weird. This is different.

“Okay Robert,” Nadia says, “Lukas, did you catch that?”

“Wait - I am confused,” Lukas comes through.

“About?” Robert ask.

“We’re here to stop a murder, so there is going to be dead security guards, it comes with the territory of trying to stop murder. Why are we retreating?” Lukas ask.

Right. While he has a point, he has an obligation towards Lukas safety first.

“Let’s just stick with cute heroism,” Robert huffs through the mic, “This isn’t cute. This is serious.”

“But we knew that already,” Lukas remarks.

“I agree with Robert on this one, I don’t want the two of you to get hurt,” Nadia finally speaks up.

Lukas sighs, “Fine. Why even agree to stop a murder, when we just retreat because there are dead people. Duh. It’s a murderer.”

At least he’s willing to back off. Sure he’s not going to hear the end of it in the car, but Lukas isn’t an idiot. Of the fourteen years raising him that’s one thing he knows. Honestly despite their origins is it sad that he slightly agrees with the media on this one? Vigilantism heroism is only going to get someone hurt or killed if they step too far into the deep end. Kids shouldn’t be doing this kind of work. Kids are so, they desire to do the right thing and act so impulsive without thinking of the risk half the time. Sometimes he resents Nadia setting Lukas on this path. On the other hand, what would the police done? With the tip that is. They certainly also got the tip off there was going to be a murder here tonight and he didn’t see them sitting out on the block. Things should change where children don’t feel the need to be going out and doing the jobs for the police.

Fighting in Atlantis was different. There were dangers in the sea, that everyone had to be prepared to handle. But in the Human society they have police, these beings that are like the Atlantis guards, but where are they? Their presence lacking. To think if Lukas hadn’t been born, at this age he would have been an Elite Guardian of Atlantis. Protecting the cities from Abyss Drifters. And they would have been none the wiser of who his father was.

Human cities are supposed to be similar. The Police are supposed to be protectors. But unlike Atlantis they don’t seem to be doing their jobs well. In Atlantis it would have been expected a boy trained early from life to do his job. You could be exiled or lose rank or title if you didn’t. Those who didn’t do a job in Atlantis would have been shamed and dishonored. Depending on the severity of them relaxing on their duties. He really wish Lukas would grow out of this hero phase, it’s best he does now. Him and his girlfriend need to settle down. They aren’t meant to solve the world’s problems like this. Lukas probably get mad at him if he said any of this. But this isn’t work for teenagers. It’s meant for adults.

It’s not Ultras he has a problem against. It’s that children born with powers feel the need to exert some authority in some way. There should be a program that hires them instead and they become a branch of something. He has a problem with children doing this sort of work, considering - the dead guards. He’s finally made it back to the front door and headed out the door. He let Lukas in posing as an employee. It meant he actually had to apply for this shitty telemarketing company, but it posed a good way of getting in without having to trespass. Out on the streets in human form, he notices headlights coming closer. Shiiiiit.

“Lukas, hold off on coming out just yet,” Robert says fixing his name tag, as two officers come out of their car.

“Evening sir, I am Officer Jordan,” says the older, taller senior officer, in his mid thirties, fit, athletic, he holds onto his utility belt and puffs out his chest a little before relaxing only a bit. He’s trying to exert some kind of authoritarian control over Robert.

“Even officer,” Robert says nodding his head.

Jordan points to the building, “You uh work here.”

Robert nods, flashes his name card, John Mathews.

“Some neighbors called and complained about a disturbance in the building, you hear anything?” Jordan ask him.

“No sir,” Robert replies.

“What are you doing out this late John?” Jordan ask him.

“Boss is in late, just trying to take some of the workload off of him,” Robert slightly eyes towards the only window with a single light source.

“I see,” Jordan eyes him.

“Yep,” Robert smacks his lip.

“Do you mind if I take a look inside?” Jordan ask.

God dammit. Why do they always do this? They weren’t going to come over a tip of murder, but only came likely because of the earlier gunshots of the security guards. Now he’s using authority to push something out of him. If he obstructs him, he’s getting arrested tonight. Let him pass and that doesn’t bode well for either of them.

“Sure, I can take you to the boss,” Robert’s just trying to bide time, “Buildings like a maze.” Robert laughs.

Jordan smiles, “You like to tell jokes, Mr. Mathews?”

“That’s me, the work clown,” Robert smiles.

He’s starting to think this man thinks he’s the one who shot up the office. But if that were the case why would he stay? Bullet holes in the walls looked like the guards were shooting at someone, not someone shot them. Honestly he has no idea why the bodies were as stiff and petrified as they were holding onto their guns in frozen disturbing postures.

Jordan pats him on the shoulder, “Well show the way Mr. Mathews.”

Shit. Robert turns around back at the doors.

Bang! Shit! That’s never a good fucking sound. A muzzle flash has went off in the room with light. Jordan looks at him and Robert ducks on his knees.

“Aaaaaa! I don’t want to die!” he improvises and starts to whimper, “Oh my god! Was that a gun!”

This pacifies Jordan as he grabs onto his walkie, “I am going to need backup on Boulevard and Third for possible 10-71.”

As Jordan begins to head towards the office building. Robert grabs onto his earpiece, “Lukas the police are coming.”

**

Light glowed from the crack of the door. That’s likely where Micheal Peterson would be. He had just arrived here when they called for the retreat. He didn’t want to get involved in a murderer, he just wanted to inform Mr. Peterson someone would murder him. He still could? Placing a hand on the handle and turning it;
Bang!
Was that, a gun? Barging through the room. Peterson is holding a gun towards a white wall that now has a hole. A red man in a red coat is standing on the opposite side of the room. He’s dodged the bullet? Perhaps. The red man notices him and quickly runs from the side of the wall to the conference table. Lukas tries to step forward, but the red man gestures towards him. Lukas only barely catches the glimpse of something in the light glimmer as he steps forward something sharp enters his leg. Thin and sharp.

His leg has gone tingly. Like it’s fallen asleep. The red man grabs Mr. Peterson’s hand, Peterson seems to be struggling in the same with his hand as his leg is tingling. He tries to step forward still. But his leg is going numb.

Bang! The red man has taken Peterson gun from his hand and shot him in the center of his head, brain matter has splattered across the walls, bits of bone and blood have begin to smear down the white like some messed up painting. He feels kind of sick looking at Peterson head splattered all over the wall. The red man walks from the conference table and jumps off the edge.

“Lukas the police are coming,” Robert’s voice is in his ear.

He’s got go then. How? His leg locks up. Why can’t he move his leg? Why do his limbs feel like jello? The red man forces the gun into his hand.

“Hey,” Lukas states.

The man just shrugs, “Just business kid.” he says hoarsely.

He watches as the red man quickly runs along the table once again and leaps out the window he came from. This is like a four story building. Suddenly he hears footsteps. Four men barge into the room with guns waving around.

“Police!” they shout, “Put the weapon down.”

He would if he could, but his arms and legs feel.

“I can’t,” Lukas tells them.

“Drop the weapon!” they shout louder and more intensely at him, four guns being waved at him in his face. One man forcefully grabs onto his wrist and disarms him, as he’s been slammed to the ground when he can’t feel anything?

“You are being placed under arrest, anything you will say will and can be used against you in the court of law,” the police man is bigger and heavier than him. The cuffs are tight. He can feel that. They are rough with him too. His heart is racing. They can’t? They aren’t?!

“There was someone else here,” he tries to tell them.

They don’t say anything. He’s just being dragged down the hall because his leg won’t work.

“Please, someone else was here,” where is Robert? Robert can help, right? They don’t believe that he actually. Do they?

🌌 Ultraverse: Strifes and Triumphs. (Superhero RP, Always Open). 🌌

Character Tab

Pray for the End [High Casual] - Canceled

RP is Canceled! Thank you everyone for showing interest.

Returning to Fairyland [High Casual]

Still WIP, but being edited

Age: 24/25

Gender: Male

D.O.B: September 9th, 1991

Not hiding from reality

“Totally original art, not sold for millions,”

A sign is propped up on a bench just outside of a coffee house in downtown Cosmic City Fall. A scattering of different artworks, all on personal sized canvas, are laid out with tags that read $$ negotiable. A young man is relaxing, back propped against a brick flower bed the city paid for, smoking a cigarette. He’s wearing a pair of costume goggles, oh what’s that style - steampunk. Sandy brown hair, bundled in a high collar, wool trench coat. Worn cargos and combat boots fixed together by some tape, he looks up at you and lifts his goggles up sitting them atop his forehead. Hazel colored irises with a very dark distinct limbal ring around them that make them really stand out.

“So, what you think?” he ask with a crooked smile, that shows off his unnaturally pointy canines.

You’re looking at paintings in watercolor, depicting vivid images of birds, almost as if the birds are lifting off the canvas itself about ready to fly off.

“They are nice,” you give him an uncomfortable smile.

He frowns briefly. There’s a breathy sigh. He flicks the ash off the but of his dart onto the cement. He gives you a wave of his hand.

“Yeah yeah,” he says dismissively in his modulated, but hoarse cadence.

It isn’t that his work isn’t beautiful, it’s evident he has some talent. All of his work carries with it a sense of grace and elegance. He has a gift of using bright and vivid colors that seem to lift off the canvas itself. Complimentary colors that illuminate brighter than the neon signs that flicker open all around, there is something magic in his work. But looking at the dirt under his nail, his duct taped boots, his goggles, and someone’s purposely cut the fingers of his gloves so they are uneven in shape. You’re hesitant to help him out. What is he going to spend the money on? This seems to be something he understands with the dismissive hand gesture, sitting down to sulk.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

The 5’6”, 167cm, just flips you the middle finger.

“Fuck off,” he tells you more firmly, his earlier energetic, charisma has faded now that you’re not interested.

“Sorry,” you say again before walking off.

Personality:

"Why do people spend millions on fakes [as in someone pretending they are X famous person] when I am sitting here selling an original of their time at fifteen. It's bonkers to think what people with money are willing to waste. And people who go to Bullseye ain't going to a pass from me neither. Why buy that copy of a painting in the public domain, that hundreds of others are going to buy, when you could have a one of a kind,"

A common misconception might be that Valeran what Valeran does, that defines himself, as some form of attention seeking behavior. An odd sense of humor that doesn’t land with a setup and a punchline, but from impulsive spontaneity may come across to others as someone trying too hard to be funny. Someone trying hard to be noticed. The truth of that reality can be so far from the perception of others have. In truth, internally Valeran never really feels comfortable with being out in public;

“A case of stomach worms constantly and antsy legs that keep moving when I want them to stop”

The goofy, silly image is really a way to fight and cope with nervousness he feels. It’s as if challenging himself to being different than the nervous wreck he feels inside that he might be able to make it fade by doing something that makes others laugh or entertained. Instead of falling prey to anxiety he may combat it with silly antics or goofy behavior or random impulsivenesses that laughter relieves the pressure, but he still doesn’t feel quite relieved of his anxiety.

Fear the French Fry Monster

A lot of this anxiety stems from a lot of self doubt and low self esteem about himself. In fact while Valeran is talented and gifted, his inner voice is cruel and beats him down. Something he’s familiar with considering it was the tactics used against him by his family members and Glenn. They’ve help create an inner voice inside that is often self critical, vicious, and cruel to Valeran. Constantly picking pieces away at himself, while outwardly he looks like a whole, unshattered individual.

Those who support Valeran understand that Valeran from an early age has always seen the world much differently than others have. Valeran’s mind has always wandered off to the what ifs, the maybes, the impossible to possible. Looking at a door that goes nowhere may turn Valeran’s head into believing that door is used for secret meetings in a dark alleyway opened by magic or that it is indeed a portal to another dimension. He may see an old woman everyday on a porch knitting and weave a story about how she’s waiting for her lover to come home. Valeran’s never been about taking anything at face value, but has always dissected inside to see what lies deeper. He’s always been concerned about the deeper meaning of the world. The deeper meaning of what people value. While Valeran doesn’t discuss these things with others, he portrays these questions, these excitements and easily enthused thoughts with his actions.

Those who know Valeran know him as an eager individual, some would even say he’s as eager as a child. Curious about the world around him, even at his age, still discovering how things work, still finding ways to implement a bit of magic and cheer in people’s lives. He’s always been the type of person to thrust his good nature onto others, if they are sad he finds ways to remind them why they are loved, if the person is looking for an answer he’ll find a way to lead them there. He might not have all the answers and he might lead them to what he feels is the right answer, but he never claims to know the infinite knowledge of the world. Or claims that he is indeed in the right. Valeran is loyal and has always put time and care into others likely because he’s always felt a burden to others. If he can relieve one person from feeling like a burden to others he feels he has done his job, even if he himself doesn’t feel that way about himself.

Big Advice from a Great Guru

On the surface Valeran might seem like someone who has it all together, but the truth there are a lot of empty holes in Valeran. Empty holes he hasn’t been able to fill, no matter how much he tries putting something together and filling the holes, it ends up feeling emptier, and emptier, like no matter how much he puts in the holes they just absorb them. Therapy only ever sort of helped, he struggles on finding value in himself, which just ends up creating this deeper rift between himself and his feelings. Sometimes he wonders if he even is experiencing happiness when he laughs with others. Or if it’s just going through the motions.

Totally Have it Together

The Other Me

Mind’s are fragile, feeble things, that often fall prey to a number of disorders that people would call sickness of the mind. Diagnosed with Bipolar Type 2, Valeran’s often had to find ways to cope and manage his symptoms. Often his art is how he has achieved this. While known as a drawer and a painter, he is a crafty storyteller as well.

Graphic Novel by Valeran Scott Mathis
Vol: 5
Description: Upon the discovery another world, Unreality, a young man returns home only to be the host of another individual Hysteria. Now Julian must travel between Reality and Unreality to solve problems while coping with his ordinary life.

Panel 1: A black panel introduces the story. Text box of muffled words, none of what is being said makes sense.

Panel 2: Julian’s eyes slowly begin to open as he’s staring at the ceiling. As he tries to stand up he bumps into “glass”. He realizes he is in the Still Mind. The in between Unreality and Reality.

Jullian: Hysteria? Where are you?

Panel 3: Hysteria is looking at himself in the mirror in Julian’s room, he’s fixing Julian’s hair as Julian’s voice comes from the Still Mind.

Hysteria -smirk-: Right here.

Julian: You can’t just take over my body!?

Hysteria -fixing a shirt with a skull design on it- : It’s not fair I have to stay in the Still Mind, we could share. Sharing is caring.

Julian: It’s my body! And my school! And my friends!

Hysteria: And I’ll make you cooler and more popular I promise.

Panel 4: Julian sits on the black floor of the still mind. Melancholia wanders into the Still Mind through a white light.

Melancholia: I thought gloom is my thing.

Julian: Hysteria took over my body and now he’s at my school.

-Julian turns his attention towards a viewing window as they see through Hysteria’s eyes walking into a high school-

Melancholia: Oh. Well, that isn’t so bad?

Julian: It isn’t!?

Melancholia-shrugs-: Take it like a vacation.

Julian: Easy for you. You have no motivation to do anything, but Hysteria isn’t me. He’ll just do something that will embarrass me later.

Melancholia: Eh.

-snip-

While ordinarily Valeran is someone people get along and respect, there is an entirely different reputation that follows Valeran. Of a worker who missed too many days of work and was let go. Of a worker who was unworkable, irritable, and started fights with others. And despite the advocacy, many jobs struggled to justify keeping him as an employer. While Cosmic Falls City may be large, there was a growing stack of complaints of Valeran’s erratic and sometimes unmotivated behavior.

Two Years Ago - Work Party - Can't remember what for

Some would justify then that mean that he deserved to lose his jobs. Some further would explain his dipping his toes into drug abuse as his fault. Though those were only solutions to self medicate when coping in other ways didn’t work. Valeran’s had an off and on relationship with drugs since his current decline. And while he may seem to be put together sometimes, sometimes he falls back into pieces like a jenga tower.

A glossy, skinny paper book sits on a shelf, a paper tent has been folded over that reads in sharpie: Local Artist. Issues upon issues are sprawled out by various names, Harry, Johnathan, Kaleb, Newb Stomper, but your eyes stop on woven text, and an unusual name that you’re not even sure if that’s a real name Valeran Mathis. Volume 1 - Stitchery and Swords. Sounds slightly boring. Stitchery? A boy is posed on the cover, no swords, nothing about it screams epic battles and epic fantasy. You shrug. Heck if you’re supporting a local artist, then you’re supporting a local artist and if it’s bad you can laugh about it later.

by Valeran Mathis

Preface: Dear reader before you read this tale, I'd like you to throw away your notion of good and evil. This story is not about good or evil, it is easy to assume looking at the Human King Alexanderite and Master Desmond as evil - meant to be stamped out. But they were a product of their time. Desmond only did what was expected of him and without Desmond the tale I am to tell about an average man in a fairy tail town then that individual wouldn't have learned the skills to help and rise up when the people needed it. Do not judge these individuals with our modern black and white views and see them through the eyes of living people set with expectations and placed burdens of society. Welcome to Stitchery and Swords.

Volume 1: The Boy Who Lost Everything to a Cloud

Open to Read

Panel 1: Craven a name to mean garlic and while many criticize garlic for being a noxious and potent herb, they've never seen the garlic flowers that bloomed. Inside this person, who some would see a coward, who some would see as a threat, a pester, was something beautiful others hadn't yet experienced yet.

Craven 10

Panel 2: One day a boy stumbled into a simple village, it was a simple enough village that boys without parents didn't just show up. Barefoot and cold, he shivers from the spring breeze, leaves swirl, and a fading sign reads Weeping Hallows.

Panel 3: Standing before the gate a guard notices the boy.
Guard: Boy, where are your parents?
Craven: Gone.
Guard: You think you're funny?
Craven: No. A black smoke swallowed them whole.

Panel 4: Cut to the clear sky. Split to a lone farm in the middle of a clearing surrounded by a forest. The sky is clear and blue, not a storm cloud in sight.

Panel 5: A woman is the center of focus at first. She seems to be working the fields, but there is something unusual about her, she has pointed ears. She looks up from the fields she's working at and eyes Craven

A Mother's Gaze

Mother: Craven, are you going into the woods?
Craven: Yes. I'm collecting mushrooms for tonights stew.
Mother -bites her bottom lip-: Don't wander too far today.
Craven -studies her, she seems nervous about something-: I'll make sure the farm is in my sight at all times.
Mother -nods-: Good. Your father should be back from town soon.

Panel 6: Cut to Craven picking mushrooms in a bright and colorful forest. When a sudden gust of strong wind pushes him back. Swooosh!! Craven looks up through the canopy of trees in the distance something like a storm cloud. The rolling sound of thunder in the distance; Crrrk. Crack! Bang!

Foreboding Peace

Panel 7: Craven is running through the woods. Wind is getting stronger, acting like a barrier as he tries to push through the wind. As the farm house is getting closer, so is the cloud. But it is the only cloud in the sky. Rotating around its body is the source of energy. As electricity runs through it’s body. The sound of thunder louder now. Bang! Crrrrk! Crack! BWAM!

Panel 8: Craven's mother looks towards the woods and looks up towards the sky. She points towards the woods, just as the cloud begins to expand. Stretching out arms made of smoke.

Unnatural Storm

Mother: Go!

Panel 9: A tree line fades back to the stone walls of Weeping Hallows. The guard standing in front of the gate begins to laugh.

Guard: Stop making up lies kids. You probably ran away from home.

Craven -lowering his head-: I am not making anything up. -he says quietly-

Guard: If you say so kid. Just know in Weeping Hallows you’ll be watched if you cause any trouble.

-Craven merely bows as the guard steps aside for him to walk into the small, stone city-

Panel 10: Fade to black, transition into walking out of a store, back towards the city center. Craven looks around. He’s bought a very very small bag of rations.

Town Center

Voice: Boy.

-Craven turns his attention to a man older than him-

Panel 11: An older, middle age man with blonde hair fading to gray is staring down at Craven. His head is held up higher with some form of disdain for the boy, as if he’s looking at the boy through his glasses from the tip of his nose.

Desmond younger

Craven -bows-: Sir, were you addressing me?

Man -looks around-: I don’t see anyone else walking out of our general store. Do you?

Craven-nods No-: No sir.

Man -clears his throat-: Eh hem. I heard a curious story from the guards, that you believe your parents were taken from an elemental.

Craven -scowls-: Story, it’s true.

Man: Yes children do seem to believe the wild stories they tell.

Craven -continues to frown-

Man -caresses his chin-: Yes, well considering you’re a vagrant child you’ll still need some kind of work to sustain yourself. Unless you are planning on dying out there. -man looks at the wall, panel splits between Man’s vision of the wall and the forest behind the wall-

Panel 12: Craven thinking to himself; Working? What am I supposed to be doing now that mom and dad aren’t around? He looks up at the older man, and then behind him towards the gate, out there towards the forest. Who is going to take him in? Would anyone of his mother’s people?

Craven: What kind of work?

Man: Medicinals boy. While I think that it is crazy to believe that an elemental attacked your parents out of the blue, I need a open minded thinker. None of the other boys have that aptitude.

Craven: I know nothing about medicinals.

Man -grumbles-: That’s why you start off as an apprentice. You learn under my guide and do as I say.

Craven -looks to the floor-: But I get paid.

Man: Yes. And a place to stay. Unless you’re a fool, if you are then please by all means leave the village and get torn apart by the things out there.

Craven -looks behind him and then back at the man-: O...okay.

Man -clears his throat-: Yes, well do you have a name?

Craven: Craven Blume

Man -raises a brow-: Kind of name is that? Yes well you may address me as Master. The name is Desmond Lancaster, The Arcane Healer of the North.

Craven -eyes wide-: The full title?

Desmond -grumbles-: Hmph. No. Stupid boy. Just Master Lancaster.

--To Be Continued - Volume 2: Garlic Boy Learns--

Volume 2: Garlic Boy Learns
Description: Craven taken in by Desmond Lancaster, has begun his training under Desmond. His knew home is something to get use, while his knew corridors are simple servant corridors - simple something Craven is use to - the corridors are located within a castle. A whole new set of laws, politics, people, have to be learned on top of learning how to read the books Desmond has given him, learning about plants, and other ingredients before there is any brewing to be had.

Volume 3: Apprentice’s First Brew
Description: A year has passed, Craven has proven himself a bright and a quick learner. Desmond is beginning to fear Craven might truly surpass him. Conflicted with keeping Craven’s education to a minimum and wanting to keep him motivated to work Desmond decides to allow Craven to create an ailment for the first time. Craven’s first adventure begins collecting ingredients, without the help of his Master’s watchful eye. Let out of the city for the first time in a while, Craven is accompanied by a Guard as his escort.

Volume 4: Secret Techniques
Recap: Craven and Fernando have traveled through the woods to a city a few miles away from Weeping Hallows to gather ingredients from another herbalist. Returning home, they have gathered the rest of the ingredients in the forest before taking the road back to Weeping Hallows. Though there is an issue, Fernando has gotten himself turned around and the both of them are wandering a dark, forest only getting deeper and deeper into the brush.

Flip Open

Panel 1: Fernando looks up towards the canopy of trees, he frowns as he realizes he cannot get a clear look at the sky. What time of day is it? He thinks to himself. As Craven is etching a mark in one of the trees.

To Protect and Serve and to Be Lost

Fernando: What are you doing?
Craven: Marking the trees so we don’t’...-he pauses and stops looking around-
Fernando: What?

-Craven looks around-
-bwop. Bwop.-
-something bobbing up and down in what sounds like water-
-Craven runs towards that direction-

Fernando: Hey!? Don’t run off without an explanation!

-Fernando follows after-

Panel 2: Both are standing at the edge of a bank, looking towards a river. A frog has jumped on a leaf and looks at them. Fernando looks around, the river stretches for miles.

An eerie path to travel

Craven: I bet if we follow the river we can find our way to a road.
Fernando: Or Wild People.
Craven-shrugs-: Let’s go find these Wild People
Fernando: I rather not.
Craven -looks up at Fernando and smiles-: But you have a sword. I am completely unarmed, shouldn’t I be the one more concerned to meet these Wild People then you?
Fernando -grabs the hilt of his sword and laughs nervously-: Oh of course. I am -he clears his throat- prepared for anything.

Panel 3: Is split into four sections of the forest. First is the winding river, the darkness of the trees makes the dense heart of the woods seem like it’s nighttime. Lights of the fireflies seem like stars illuminating the way. Second someone’s created a rickety bridge between a broken path. Craven and Fernando step on the bridge. Crrk. Crrk. The bridge threatens to give way.

Fernando: Who built a bridge all the way out here?
Craven: Someone who wanted to cross the river.
Fernando -looks back at Craven, the both of them cautious where they step-: Is that your attempt at being funny?
Craven -shrugs-: It’s the only way to the other side.
Fernando: Let’s hope the Wild People don’t find our bodies washed up on the bank of the river.
Craven: To then, what? Eat us. I know what you mean by Wild People, in this case, around these woods you mean elves.
Fernando -SNAP a piece of wood gives way, but Fernando manages to not fall through-: And what if I mean elves?
Craven: They aren’t at all like the way humans portray them.
Fernando: And what about the men who have never made it back from the deep woods?
Craven: They trespassed. And often acted more wild than the people they call wild.
Fernando: I am not getting into with an eleven year old, hurry across the bridge before it completely breaks.

Panel 4: Clearing the bridge, more and more light is being exposed by the trees as they begin to become clearer and clearer. The river narrower and in the distance a hut, the sun is setting, and the smell of something cooking.

A Home Deep in the Woods

Fernando -puts his hand in front of Craven-: We should be cautious.
Craven: Because I was going to suggest just rushing towards the creepy hut.
Fernando: You seemed like the type of kid who would.
Craven -scowls-
Fernando: What should we do?
Craven: Cautiously rush towards the creepy hut.

Panel 5: Heading towards the hut, the trees become thinner, and skinnier. As the backdrop is golden, smoke is coming from a chimney. Clothes hang on a clothesline on the opposite side of the hut. Fernando has his hands on the hilt of his sword, as they come closer to the tree line, the forest the only protection from being caught to whatever danger lies ahead.

Fernando -points towards a road- : Look a road.
Craven -nods-: Knew we’d find one eventually.
Fernando: Who do you think lives here so far away?
Craven -shrugs-: I thought you didn’t want to find that out?
Fernando -looks nervous-: I heard about a couple of Hags that live this deep in the woods, that turn children into stews and kill those that raise them.
Craven: So if we’re lucky, we’ll be eating other children tonight and you won’t die till tomorrow.
Fernando -tugs at the collar of his gambeson, Gulp!-
Voice -low chuckle-: Ahaha. I don’t eat children, but I wonder what an armed stranger and a child could possibly want with me.

Panel 6: A bronze, sun kissed skin man is standing behind them, Watching them, there is a cunning in his golden sunset eyes and his ears are pointed. His jawline is strong, yet he has long eyelashes and beautiful golden hair. A Sun Elf is watching them.

Being Watched

Fernando -takes out his sword quickly-: Stay back!
Sun Elf: Typical human response. They don’t understand these woods, so they reply with nervous violence. -Sun Elf’s gaze drifts to Craven- And you? You don’t seem afraid.
Craven: We share a bloodline.
Sun Elf -eyes widen in realization-: Ah I see. You’re half then.
Craven -nods and bows-: We were just looking for the road. We’ll leave you alone now.
Sun Elf -looks towards the golden sky-: They call me Davha, it means Wise Sunset. The sun’s power draws to darkness. You should seek shelter.
Fernando: And where would we find shelter?
-Davha turns his head towards his hut-
-Craven giggles-
-Fernando puts back his sword-
Fernando: You make a valid point, but -he steps forward in front of Davha- I’ll be watching you.
Davha -glances at the sword-: Because you have to worry about me.

Panel 7: Walking into a small cottage, despite the setting sun, it is brightly lit by a fire going, some lanterns lit with flames, and candles placed on shelves. Curious bottles and ingredients lie on these shelves, as well as a young girl about five, with the same bronze and amber tones of Davha. She too has sun colored hair.

A Strange Welcome

Girl gets up quickly -she gasp-: Father?
Davha: Go to your room and return in the morning when the strangers have left. Please.
-Davha quickly glances at Fernando-
-Fernando turns his head away nervously-
Fernando -clears his throat-: Yes, do as your father says now?
-Davha scowls at Fernando-
Davha: If you know what’s best for you, you may have a sword, but go anywhere near her and you’ll find your skin on the outside.
-Fernando laughs nervously-
Fernando: Maybe we should calm down about skinning people…
Davha -glances at Fernando-: Ah yes I forgot it’s customary to greet people with a sword pointed at them.

Panel 8: Craven’s focused on the bottle on the shelf, while Fernando is sitting on a rug in the center of the room. Fernando cautiously looks at a clay bowl of soup he has been given, while Davha stands next to Craven offering a gravy looking stew.

Craven: These bottles, they aren’t ordinary potions.
Davha: You have a good eye. Probably the elven in you.
Craven: How do you make them?
Davha: Not all potions are just made with fire.
-Craven looks curiously at Davha-
-Fernando clears his throat-: Eh hem.
-Davha and Craven turn their attention to Fernando-
Fernando: Look I don’t know anything about your fancy elven potions, but Desmond Lancaster’s potions are likely even better. -Fernando looks at Craven-
Davha -merely smirks-: Ah yes the famed Arcane Healer of the North. I know about him. I know many Elven Witch Doctors who would say his potions are as translucent as water.
-Craven giggles-
Fernando: Pfft. They only say that because they fear his skills.

Panel 9: Craven stares into the murky brown liquid of the stew he has received. He looks between Davha and Fernando. I’ve never asked why the Elves and the Humans don’t get along. He thinks to himself.

Craven: Did the elves do something wrong to the humans? -he focuses his gaze on Fernando-
-Davha scoffs-
Fernando -shrugs-: Hell I know. Just know none of us really like each other.
Davha -looks at Craven and slowly walks to a chair-
Craven: Then did the humans do something to wrong the elves?
Fernando -laughs-: Haha. Course not. The elves will tell you their propaganda, but none of that is true.
Davha -focuses on Fernando-: Propaganda? The humans to build their cities, cut down the Hearts of the Forest. They toppled ours down, for their own. They also greet elves with swords to their throats.
Fernando scoffs: Not going to let that one go are you? You snuck up on us. What was I supposed to do greet you with a hello?
Craven: Did the humans cut down the Hearts of the Forest?
Fernando: What no. The hell is a Hearts of the Forest anyway. It’s just some trees, the elves should get over it.
Davha: There is a whole spiritual connection in this forest the humans ignored, those Hearts of the Forest were the oldest trees that connected every single living organism in this forest together.
Fernando -shrugs-: Just some trees. No one really believes in that mystical bullshite.

Panel 10: An uncomfortable silence fills the room. Woooosh. The wind begins to pick. It whistles through the window panes. Pop crrpop. The fire in the fireplace goes. Craven stares into his stew as if it will tell him the infinite truths of the world, while Fernando eats in silence. Davha stares into the fire and the wind continues it’s assault on the cottage.

Panel 11: Bowls are empty. Wooooo. The wind whistles through the cracks of the window. No one has said anything. Fernando raises his arms up and begins to yawn.

Fernando: Best get some rest.
Davha -looks at Fernando-: You’ll sleep down here.
Fernando -looks around-: Here?
Davha: Yes, I’ll get you some blankets and something to rest your head on.
Fernando: And Craven?
Davha -looks up towards a ladder to the second floor-: I have an extra bed.
Fernando: You’re giving the kid the bed?
-Davha narrows his gaze at Fernando-
Craven -looks at Davha-: You don’t have to do that. I’ll sleep on the floor too.
Davha -gives him a stern look-: No. You will take the extra bed. You are part of our people and I promised your mother I would take care of you. It seems I failed to do so if you’re in the company of humans.
Craven: You knew my mother?
Davha -nods-: We were close friends. It took me a while to know why your face was so familiar.
Fernando grumbles: Just like an elf. Favoring his own.
Davha -gives Fernando a stern glare-: I would never let you in the bedroom that my daughter lies. You’re not a parent, so you wouldn’t understand the concern they have.
Fernando -shrugs-: It’s a girl.
Davha: Just like it’s just trees.
Fernando: You’re kind of overprotective and hold a lot of grudges.
Davha: And I am also a lot older than a human. My lifespan is not as short. And my memory is vast.
Craven: How about we just get some rest?

Panel 12: Upstairs on the second floor, three beds lie. One is occupied by the young girl from earlier, holding on tightly to a plush rabbit. The other two are empty, but made. There isn’t a crease in the sheets. Craven looks up to Davha.

Upstairs

Craven: Um thank you.
Davha: I trust that you won’t take my daughter away. Iylas is all I have left.
Craven -shuffles his feet on the wooden planks-: You lost the others?
Davha: My lover. Yes. It was due to human superstition that took her away from me.
Craven: Sorry.
Davha: You did no wrong. I don’t blame you.
Craven -looks at the floor beneath his feet-: But you don’t like Fernando.
Davha: I don’t like that man, not because he is human and not because I blame all humans for what has happened to Chrona. I don’t like that man because like all humans he is ignorant to his past and his future. They deny the horrible things they have done and behave as if the elves feel persecuted for an entirely minor circumstance.
Craven -shifts his weight onto the other side-: You were supposed to protect me?
Davha: Yes, I made a promise to Myrtle. Obviously I failed in that promise. I hadn’t known Myrtle and Briar were attacked until a day later and you went in the opposite direction. I won’t near a human settlement.
-Davha’s gaze wanders towards the window-
Craven: You believe me? They were taken by an elemental.
Davha -nods-: I believe you.

Panel 13: As Craven begins to manipulate the bedsheets, he looks one more time at Davha who has resigned to looking out the window.

Craven: Thank you, again. Goodnight.
Davha -briefly smiles-: If you like. I can teach you the secret techniques of elven magic.
Craven -eyes widen with excitement-: Really?!
Davha -nods-: You have the potential. Not every elf is born with that potential.
Craven: I’d love to learn elven magic.
Davha: Pick a topic then. An area of focus and I’ll do my best to teach you.

--To Be Continued - Volume 5: Mushrooms and Explosions--

Volume 5: Mushrooms and Explosions
Description: Returning to Weeping Hallows, unbeknownst to Craven Fernando has disclosed their visit with Davha to Desmond. This only further increases Desmond worry that Craven will be more successful than him. In order to combat this, Desmond begins to cut back on Craven’s advance trainings and slowly begins to hand him minor task and jobs. Meanwhile, Craven’s learn how to sneak out of Weeping Hallows to start his training with Davha on offensive alchemy.

Volume 6: The Ying and the Yang of a Brew
Description: Craven’s training continues with Desmond and Davha. While Desmond reluctantly trains him in elixirs of healing properties. Davha continues to train Craven in understanding how to infuse magical components into a potion for wildly various effects. Craven begins to understand that ingredients are not just herbs and plants, but can be a variant of ingredients from crystals, to energy, that give the potion life. Desmond further worries about Craven, as his medinicals are becoming quite potent and powerful.

Volume 7: Forbidden Alchemy
Description: Craven’s training with Davha is going well, perhaps too well. Desmond continued paranoia about Craven’s eventual success is the launching point for a plan. A plan to bar Craven from learning any more elven magic. Unknown to Craven, Desmond exposes to King Alexandrite what happened in the woods months ago when Fernando and Craven got lost, exposing the secret of the elf that lives there. King Alexandrite thanks Desmond and tells him to give him time to deliberate on what has been said.

Volume 8: Elf or Human
Description: King Alexandrite being known as a kind man calls for an audience with Craven. Desmond watches from the shadows away from Craven’s noticeable gaze. King Alexandrite informs Craven that he is aware that he has been practicing elven magic outside the castle walls at night. He also informs Craven that sort of magic is against the laws of Weeping Hallows. Ultimately he gives Craven a choice, to abandoned Weeping Hallows, give up his home, his job here, to live like an Elf, but to never return to a human settlement. Or to give up learning Elven magic, keep his job, home, and shelter in Weeping Hallows. Craven’s fear that Davha and Iylas may get hurt if he refuses to stay here, means Craven chooses to stay with the humans.

Volume 9: Life of an Apprentice
Description: Craven’s life becomes stagnant, as he falls in line with his position as an apprentice of Desmond. Who continues to give him minor jobs and doesn’t allow him to touch any of the advance studies. He refuses to teach him any more. Says he knows enough. Craven doesn’t argue or rebel with this line of thinking, instead he accepts it respectfully. While he might not sneak out at night, Craven does sneak the advance textbooks at night and makes sure to put them back exactly where he has found them.

Returning to Fairyland [High Casual]

Tentative. Tempting. Why do you make such interesting scenarios?

Pray for the End [High Casual] - Canceled

This RP is still active. Characters will be completed in January, the first two weeks, hopefully and the IC will begin somewhere after that.

Meta: The Second Generation.

WIP

Name: Callum Greyson Grant

Age: 25 - might be older

I am not resentful, but neither grateful

He seemed odd didn’t he? He was handsome, with a cute haircut, his skin was olive, and he stood at 5’9”. 175cms. He seemed to check out in the department of tall, dark, and handsome. He tended to wear dress shirts casually, often in monotone flat colors such as grays, blacks, or whites. Always with white slacks, and black boots. He seems to “dress” it up with colorful ties, bright yellow, a white, maybe a red one, a sky blue. And seems to always wear black around his eyes.
*Notation; this is not actually eyeliner around his eyes, despite him passing it off as it is, it’s natural darkness around his eyes and is the disease in his blood being shown through because of how thin the skin around the eyes is. Also like to add, his arm is not always black, it only happens when he is activating his disease control and happens in whatever arm he is manipulating his disease in.

You decided that’s it, he’s been living in the same apartment as you. He seems like the type of guy you’d be interested in and enjoy his company with. So you decide you’re going to do it, ask him out on a date. When he turns you down, he’s respectful, and very cordial about it. He seems rather apologetic, but smiles at you. He seems different from the way he’s dressed. You expected someone else entirely then the man you got.

Problem was that even after he rejected you, you couldn’t get his silvery voice out of your mind. He spoke so fluently, formality words and sentences together like he spent his time speaking oratories.

As for it goes for his superhero costume, it’s not very lavish going for dark colors, and being able to move freely in his outfit. He has no persona for Outbreak. He says he lacks any real imagination to create a superhero persona. Though despite Outbreak not having much of a persona or an alternative personality he does seem more comfortably militant in his thinking, tactics, and mannerisms.

Outbreak Wear

Personality Strengths:

He betrays his looks being a rather stoic, and stern figure. He’s actually a lot more like someone’s older brother than he is someone twenty something struggling to find an identity. He seems to be the type of person who is comfortable with himself, that he’s already been through troubled times and knows how to navigate around stressful situations.

Speaking of which, it’s difficult to make Callum sweat. He is not an easy man to scare, intimidate, or stress in stressful situations. He seems perfectly at ease to navigate these scenarios without an ounce of panic. When something does panic or stress Callum then you usually know it’s something to worry about.

He’s rather down to Earth, when he isn’t “working” he tends to be rather laidback and doesn’t really get in the way. He doesn’t like to start arguments or conflicts, he’ll have a good debate now and then as long as it’s a fun debate. Once the debate becomes personal or starts to meander into personal attacks Callum enjoys it far less.

He, ironically, can be a rather sensitive individual. He empathizes with the tragedies of others. This emphasizes his older brother like personality, as someone willing to hold someone and hug them when they are having a difficult time in their lives. He just has to be careful when doing so, wouldn’t that be terrible to kill someone when you’re just trying to give them the empathy they need.

He’s also quite artistic and philosophical. Which really throws everyone for a loop. He seems to quite enjoy relaxing to a canvas and watercoloring. He seems tranquil and quiet peaceful when doing so. He’s a quiet soul often.

When he is “working” his mannerism shifts to a rather tactical, militant soldier than the man you know off duty. He’s a critical thinker with a strong attention to detail, it’s why some would misrepresent him as OCD. Considering he likes his rigid structures and routines and does everything on the clock.

Personality Flaws:

Something is odd about Callum. He seems to have a completely different life experience then the man he tries to play himself off to be. The struggling artist, who lives in an apartment comfortably by himself, who cares for his friends.

Seems in stark contrast from the man who experiences night terrors and night sweats. He’s seen things he doesn’t admit to seeing and tries to deal with it often alone with himself. Though that’s sort of a difficult thing to think clearly through a panic attack.

He also seems nervous about certain things, the slam of a car door makes him flinch, the sound of metal scraping across cement makes him nervous, a garage door in a family home makes him anxious. The sound of a gun springs him into action. Though it’s never quite the same thing as nerving him, as it making him more alert or aware.

That and Callum is a man of his rigid routines. He’s not very good at dealing with things that suddenly or drastically change. It takes him time to process that something in his daily routine changes and if he starts a fit about it, it’s merely because it’s difficult for him to adjust.

As Callum spends a lot of personal time alone planning and walking himself through the day. His day is as planned as his plans are. Callum doesn’t like going into a situation without an organized plan, he doesn’t deal with spontaneity, but he’ll tolerate it.

And while Callum is the type to help another individual out. He doesn’t necessarily accept another person’s empathy towards him. He either doesn’t see himself as in need of it. Or feels he can wrestle with his monsters alone.

Powers:

Diseased Physiology; Callum is a walking germ, he carries as a host a disease made entirely out of his own psychic energy stored in his blood and under his skin. He can manipulate the disease with his own psychic will as he pleases. Because he is a host of his own disease he does not present any of the symptoms of the deadly disease, but is highly contagious in spreading it if they come into contact with his blood.

Infectious Bomb; Able to willfully explode his body. He “turns” into a gaseous form of miasma created from a dusty, moist, cloud of his blood. This cloud spreads about 80ft in the air, as a fine particles that are breathed in. They infect anyone in the radius.

Reconstruction; After being blown up, he has the ability to reconstruct himself. In general though this takes a while. Most beings might be able to reform themselves several minutes after their explosion. But he takes several hours, even days. Depends on how much of him is left. Considering that people breathe in his blood and the rest of himself that had turned into a fine dust, he has to reconstruct himself with whatever material is left of him.

Tissue Regeneration; Basic level regeneration. Can regenerate from minor wounds, such as cuts, bruises, and light burns. Recovery from minor blood loss. Critical wounds such as limb loss, damaged nerves, and internal organs cannot be regenerated, because the wound would close up faster than they could heal. Cells that are fatally damaged, such as by burning, cannot be regenerated, may result in permanent scarring if not dead, you know like a normal person.

Nosokinetic Constructs; Can mutate and turn diseases into tools, objects, weapons and other items, create semi-living constructs and/or create structures/buildings of varying permanence.

Diseased Whip; He can construct a whip made from his diseased blood. Touch with this whip, contaminates his enemies and infects them through their open wounds.

Anemia; due to the lack of his reformation or regenerating being able to regenerate blood cells. He has anemia.

Major Skills:

Cold Reading -

Originally a practice performed by mentalist, psychics, and other performing entertainments they used a set of techniques that would imply the person doing the reading knows more than what they actually know.

These techniques can quickly obtain a great deal of information by analyzing the person's body language, age, clothing or fashion, hairstyle, gender, sexual orientation, religion, race or ethnicity, level of education, manner of speech, place of origin, etc. Using a strategy of high probability guesses, quickly picking up on whether their guesses are in the right direction or not, then reinforcing and emphasizing on any chance connections and quickly moving from missed guesses.

Callum uses these techniques in order to wiggle information out of others. He plays a rather wicked hand of mental toying in order to get what he wants by implementing this strategy. As people are well inclined to believe a psychic who tells them about themselves, they are also inclined to believe a man with such a military forward presence that he knows more than what he really knows.

Strategizing -

Callum likes plans. He likes to plan ahead and strategize different events that could or would occur. He likes to know beforehand what to expect. Spending what seems like on hours plotting out all the outcomes that could possibly occur in a circumstance. Callum leaves little wiggle room for something he cannot predict, but he won’t be happy because it wasn’t something he was planning for. It’s why some people who know him call him Plan C Callum or the 4 Plan Outbreak. Because he always has a backup plan.

Military Training -

Despite what Callum says, it’s obvious to many that he has some military training. The way he efficiently fights in combat. The way he carries out his briefing and plans. His straightforward mannerisms. Callum can work with guns, explosives, and other military grade weaponry.

He is most efficient though with military knife combat. And considering his powers force him to bleed for it to be released, he is always carrying a knife on him or two. Whether or not you see his knives he carries is a different manner.

Minor Skills:

Watercolor and Acrylic Painting -

When Callum was struck at night with night terrors or when he use to be unable to sleep do to the inability to relax in his new environment, he use to turn on the television and watch marathons of Enjoying Painting with Rob Ross. Callum found the show somewhat relaxing and soothing, slowly beginning to mirror and copy the techniques of Rob Ross onto a canvas and found himself actually at peace with painting. While Callum may be no professional artist, he has a good eye for landscapes and has an attention for detail that makes people drop their jaws when they find out he’s only really been painting for the past three years.

Remembering Details -

The saying goes, an elephant never forgets. Well then Callum has the memory of an elephant because he never forgets a detail. No stone is left unturned without Callum noticing, quite literally. His bag of chips moved an inch more than where he placed it, he’ll remember. Odd facts he stumbles across in the middle of late night surfing the web, he’ll remember it just to share with others.

Programming -

Look Callum is not the type of person who is going around busting down doors and flexing his muscles. Have you seen how lean he is. While Callum is no expert hacker or coder. He can still write a pretty intermediate program or virus program. Super helpful when quietly sneaking into places you shouldn’t be. Or super helpful in destroying things you don’t want people to see.

Meta: The Second Generation.

Akay sent me, count me in if you want. Because at this point I doubt I have any friends on the Guild