DearTrickster

Mass Effect: Borealis

Dex

It had been a grueling week and a half for Dex and Serena. They worked night and day getting the crew’s security up to snuff, preparing themselves as well. All nighters working away in front of consoles or at work benches, chatting lightly or complaining loudly about how badly someone’s previous security protocols were. The loud complaints were often followed by painful cackling, ignoring how long they had gone without sleep. Occasionally Tanya’s laugh could be heard beneath the Yolac, working on her own prep. Serena helped Dex with coding while Dex helped her customize some of the drones. Drono came by often enough, he kept her company while she worked or if she needed a change in scenery she’d wander over to engineering to work off her omnitool.

She examined herself in the mirror, long sleeved coat she scrounged up from an old locker on the Borealis. It was old, brown, had patches in the pockets. Her focus would be playing the part at blending, invisibility - a drifter.

Dex plotted out their initial entrance with Haze, hiding simplified maps in her omnitool while similarly to Haze dressed down to civilian duds. The bonus part being it hid the majority of her arm. Simply picking from the false identities she crafted over the years, worked hard to keep their profiles squeaky clean. It was a breeze to get past security, the id she used was for her hard on the times, Pomponia - Pom for short, the mechanic. Drumming up a little sympathy for her and her old mechanical arm acting up again, too far out to make it back to Inner Council Space to see her proper doctor. While security commented on her being in a shit place to look for turian health care, she might get lucky with a prescription. Thankfully skipping over a thorough examination of her omnitool, not that they would have any luck finding anything. Knowing Eclipse was here had her bolster her own security largely out of paranoia. She had spent the night before landing running simulations.

“Thanks for the tip, wouldn’t have stopped ya’know if it wasn’t as bad as it is. Shady fucker who did the surgery never fixed the problems he made.”

The security guard laughed, “Sure. Good luck, ma’am.”

She came in after Haze of course but it was as simple as that. Reasonable distraction, that would have their eyes pass over her before long. Following the general gaggle of people entering the station her eyes drifted over the Eclipse security stationed everywhere. Haze was nowhere in sight, she adopted the ‘completely lost stranger’ to the point where a few stopped her and gave her directions. She kept moving, wondering down quiet corridors before finding her maintenance access with a few workers going about their own days. She watched them waiting for the workers to move on to their next site making note of the couple security cameras posted on the outside of the main access doors. When they moved on she hit the cameras directly with a scrambler over her omnitool, taking control of them. Adjusting their sights away when she entered herself, the hum and noise of the station masked the door opening. Stepping in she checked all the corners, found her access panel and went to work herself.

From maintenance access it had general maps of the station, immediately sending them off to Haze as soon as she found them. With the bolstered tech from Serena, hacking past their generally decent security tiers wasn’t nearly as much work as she was expecting. She downloaded maps of the station and the underground hatches lining up with sites similar to the one she was sitting in. It was easy to find the doctor’s office Drono needed to be in and the route they could take to get there undetected. She opened up her secure communication lines speaking to everyone.

“Alright guys, I’ve cracked through the first walls of security for Lafayette, it’ll take more time to delve deeper. Haze I sent you all the maps I could find, same with the escort team. Noted the best routes around Eclipse stationed guards, still working on where they’re storing their equipment. Can’t quite fool the entrance scanners yet so be careful on entry. If you need a camera to look another way, if you need access to a hatch, or someone to make a phony call to pull some security guard away, call me. Comm lines are secure to use.” Dex spoke. “Remember, keep the risk low and I’m going to remind you guys that this shit depends on being sneaky. Call me if you’re stuck.”

“Good luck.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Hellis}

---

Time: Following Evening - After the Earthquake
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada

The Ambassador stood in the dead center of the largest room of their hotel, furniture was pushed aside for the need of space. Surrounding her were sigils of various symbols and elemental background. She spoke amongst her various allies, most notably among them were Captain Esen in his wispy transparent eyes holding steady, the pool of water from which Princess Lassantra’s image lounged. Three other sigils were Jordaan, the fire sprite retainer of Rhys. Duchess Gelsey, swathed in spider silks, years after The Ambassador had taken her seat of power she could barely look the human in the eye. Some were family patrons ruling territories in Paris while others were nobility. Many of which all turned to The Ambassador when word of Pixie Stix was attacked, then inevitably of her appearance after it.

She dressed lightly for Las Vegas heat, but fashionable as always. A white long sleeved collared shirt, with pearlescent buttons, bright pink pants and for now barefoot. Her matching prada purse was beside her grimoire on the desk.

“Remain vigilant. Gather your resources, your warriors, please relay any information you have to me directly.” The Ambassador spoke, her eyes moving from one image to the next. “I have heard rumours that Nêuvean Winterborn is raising his own army in retaliation against his territory being attacked. He wishes to hold audience with me, I will not know more until I speak with him.”

Captain Esen spoke up, “Of course, My Lady. What of Queen Titania? She has returned to power as you said, will we be able to rely on her for help?”

She shook her head, tucking blue hair behind her ear. Carefully she replied schooling her expression away from scorn to neutral, the only one to pick up on it was seemingly Duchess Gelsey. The former Earth Fey Duchess shifted uncomfortably. “Our alliance has not yet been solidified, Captain. I do not expect to rely on her for this. For now, spread word Paris is safe. All I require of safe passage to and from Earth is their favour.”

Around the sigils the Fey all nodded, signalling the end of the meeting. A deep breath in and short exhale, Odette strode over to her desk where her grimoire lay open and the tricky box she had been studying since her return. The little puzzle was a good distraction from dealing with the Fey. Speaking with her allies had set a strange mood for her, a line of thought she entertained now with prophecies on the mind.

She scooped it up in her hand walking over to where Mandate was, the mercurial golem sat her red ‘eye’ following the human as she approached. Odette pulled the couch a little closer to flop into it. Playing with the box in her hands, she swung her legs up over the back of the couch and hung upside down. Out loud she asked, “Mandate.” Her tone curious.

“You must be built to live for a very long time. It sometimes makes me feel as if my time here on Earth will be just a blink. A drop in the ocean.” She gazed up at the golem, enunciating her next words slowly. “Une goutte dans l'océan.”

Bach snorted in the background, flipping through the pages of her spellbook. “Your birthday isn’t for months, did you find a gray hair My Lady?” He teased.

While Bach was seemingly content with teasing the Ambassador, Mandate found herself somewhat stricken. She stilled upon the couch for a moment, the glowing area within her eye that served as a sort of ‘pupil’ and central point seeming to focus upon nothing in particular.

That’s right, isn’t it? I’m going to be here for a long time. What about Miss Ambassador?

It wasn’t a new thought, per se, but it hadn’t crept to the forefront of the golem’s mind in any significant way until the human herself had brought it to attention. And now that it was addressed, it couldn’t be ignored, could it?

Finally, the golem shifted. Her eye focused briefly upon the Ambassador, before its attention fell to her own massive hands. She contemplated the sheen of them, and the thoughts came forward. ”You know, Miss Ambassador, I read recently in one of my books that the ocean is probably billions of years old. I don’t know if that’s the case, with magic and mystery and strange things that most people don’t know about. Maybe the ocean was made a thousand years ago as part of a fairy conspiracy, but I think that’s probably not true.”

Mandate giggled at the silly stray thought, tilting her head and finally refocusing upon the Ambassador. Slowly, she collected her divergent thought patterns as many little tangents were spun together. Still, she remained silent and focused upon the Ambassador for the moment, head tilted. She awaited further elaboration.

Odette smirked a little at that, “Who are we to assume a history book is fact.” Plainly ignoring Bach’s comment holding up the box. “Take this box for example. Gwyneth left this to be found centuries after her death. What will I leave to remind someone I had once existed? Will you live centuries into the future to speak of who I once was?”

Bach stopped to listen as well.

She paused thoughtfully then tsked. “Prophecies have turned my thoughts to how much I can accomplish - my own mortality.” Glancing at Mandate she noted, “Not an immediate thing to worry for, my dear.”

Mandate was silent for a time. Her head bobbed slowly in an acknowledging -or perhaps merely thoughtful- nod as her eye drifted to her hands once more.

These are our instruments, creators of our will made manifest.

Not a thought, but a memory. Something prickled on her outermost layer, and she shook it away mentally and -ever so slightly- physically. The Ambassador needed an answer there, in that moment. She collected herself, and spoke. ”I don’t know the future, Miss Ambassador, but I know more about the ocean than just its history.” Her burning crimson pupil was focused purely on the Ambassador’s face now, upside-down as the human was on the couch. The golem’s massive hand stretched out, and gently rested on her shoulder. It was a delight to touch.

”The ocean is also force-” Impact. -And even a droplet makes ripples. You’re smart, and powerful, and even strange things like fairies -sorry mister Bach- will look to you for guidance; I’m sure the way you move everything will be felt and remembered!” The golem’s mouth -previously inverted- returned to its smile as she delivered her ‘wisdom’ with a cheerful chirp. She was quite pleased with that one.

Slowly the smirk she had turned into a genuine smile gazing up at Mandate, resting her head on the golem’s hand. She replied, “That is very sweet of you to say, my dear friend. I am working on making my brief time on Earth a lasting impression.”

Bach watched on, he opened his mouth to say something then choose to remain silent. Idly flipping through the pages once again. Odette’s attention was on the golem. “Starting with cracking the puzzle on this box. But first-”

She swung her legs down, forcing herself to sit upright. “I have decided to hire someone new. A metahuman.”

Bach perked in curiosity, “Oh? Anyone in mind?”

She dug into her pocket to pull out her phone, dialing already, “Not yet, I want someone who is a hard counter to the likes of Racheli, I am finding that diversifying our allies has found quite a bit of success as of late. Broker, Silence, and of course Mandate.” She nodded with a smile at the golem. “There are quite a few gains to have ah- Bonjour, Jacque!”

In a short conversation in French, Odette spoke with her Shroud Syndicate contact, Jacque Morin. A man who came to her for work and she went to for accessing resources available in the criminal organization. They were in need of a metahuman willing to work for the right amount and strong enough to fight on her behalf or with her. The main requirements being heat/fire based, Odette knew Racheli's weakness was losing her connection to her virus through heavily applied heat. She gave Jacque no baseline for a starting price with vague instructions to set up a meeting when he found someone suitable.

Ending the call, she stood up from the couch holding up the box. “We have deciphered some of the runes on the box, I am ready to try unravel the magic keeping the contents of this sealed.

Bach nodded moving the spellbook aside, as Odette walked to the desk. Taking a seat, she placed the box in the center of a paper sheet with similar symbols drawn in a circle. Deciphering what they meant was a matter of translation and some background knowledge on witchcraft. While with research they were able to understand some but not all. The heavy lifting would be in untangling the wards imbued in the box. Warding, a skill Odette was highly proficient in.

Mandate, previously preoccupied with stewing in her own thoughts and fiddling with the necklace she kept off most of the time, looked up as the Ambassador spoke of the box once more. The possibility of meeting more new and interesting people was tantalizing, but this was more immediate. ”I wish I could help more, Miss Ambassador, but I don’t want to break anything and I don’t think I can do magical stuff.” the golem noted, standing from the couch and moving to instead peer at the box from over the Ambassador’s shoulder.

“Your moral support works it’s own magic, my dear.” She said sweetly, straightening her shoulders she placed both hands gently across the surface of the box already she felt the thrum of the ward without inciting any magic.

“Bach please be ready to intervene for whatever comes next.” She said.

He nodded his leafy head, his hands glowing with green now. “Ready.”

So she began calling upon the arcane stream, the familiar blue misty magic outlining her hands and eventually her body. Lifting her hair off the back of her neck. The spell to unlock the wards were Fey in origin, originally meant to tamper with wards a household fey would incite over a home. Naturally it was adapted by Odette, suitably for deconstructing more powerful wards used by different magic practitioners. It was flexible, the magic that seeped into the box filling the runes. Wards were often created in layers around an object or person, it was a simple matter to either cut through the layers or unravel them one at a time.

Find seams in a smoothed surface.

The spell progressed exceptionally, finding the seams working beneath the layers. Her breathing was even as was her tone as she spoke the spell in French.

What she felt next was the equivalent to a magical hammer over her head. The final layer she pushed through pushed back violently. The muddy light from the box overwhelmed the blue of Odette’s, instantly she lost consciousness falling forward in a slump. Abruptly with no sign nor warning. Bach hesitated staring at her then shook her shoulder trying to wake her up.

“My Lady?” He whispered, confusion clear in his expression. He tried to rouse her using his own magic but it simply rolled off of her like beading water. He checked her pulse next finding a steady one against her wrist. “I-... I don’t know what happened.”

To say Mandate’s reaction was energetic was an understatement. As soon as the human had slumped, the golem had begun to tense. Confusion, then panic. Her hands lurched forward on instinct, but she stopped short of grabbing the Ambassador, her thoughts in a flurry as her hands shook from indecision. Her mane of metal slivers shook and bristled, and her mind was already approaching a state similar to when the human had been seemingly kidnapped by the wind itself.

What? Why? Did she do it wrong? Miss Ambassador is smart, that doesn’t sound smart- did the box hurt her? Thoughts fluttered as rapidly as the beating of wings, and they only grew more frantic when the fairy reported rather inconclusively. ”What do you mean you don’t know?! the golem’s voice had risen to a level more reserved for cheers.

Rather than waiting for a response, she lurched forward in the vain hope that she could do more than the fairy seemingly could. Her hand shot out as an afterthought, gently shoving Bach to the side by the shoulder. That she did so hard enough to send him stumbling was still rather light by the golem’s standards, and the ‘sorry’ that slipped out in that same panicked clip was barely even a conscious thought.

”Miss Ambassador? Are you okay? Can you speak? What happened? Is it the box?” Questions were prattled rapidly at the unconscious ambassador, and suddenly her fear of hurting the human in her panic seemed less important. An index finger and thumb large enough to envelop the Ambassador’s wrist clamped down gently as she sought the pulse for herself.

Good, good- No, bad, she’s still not talking, she’s still unconscious, I’m failing again-

”Miss Ambassador?!”

Bach stumbled backwards he caught himself on some furniture then glared at Mandate, “Calm down! You idiotic golem, step away from her right now!” He raised his voice to a snarl, one that Mandate may not have ever heard before.

Bach stomped forward then snatched the box out from underneath Odette. “If she were dead, I’d be dead too!” He explained losing his temper, gesturing with the box, “We aren’t just partners her soul is attached to mine. Whatever happens to her, happens to me. Do you get it? Or do I need to reiterate to your impossibly naive and imbecilic programing that you are just a tool. Bah!”

“I need silence and I need to concentrate without you broadcasting your every conscious thought. Pick her up and lay her down in the bed.” He snapped the order, while Mandate’s hand was pressed to her wrist, Odette’s pulse grew weaker at being separated from the box unbeknownst to the impatient Fey.

Mandate’s smile disappeared from her face. Rather, her mouth disappeared entirely, leaving a blank expanse and her single crimson orb. It stared into Bach, as if intending upon burning a hole into him with its unerring lock.

And then the Ambassador’s pulse began to flutter away, and her mouth returned as its inverse. Pouting and yet otherwise inscrutable, Mandate’s hand snatched out, and clamped over Bach’s upon the box. Lifting the Ambassador gently with her free arm, she tugged ‘gently’ upon her grip, intending to place the cube against her regardless of if Bach let go or not. She towered at her full 8 feet of height.

”Okay. But the box stays with her. I think she needs it.” Her voice was its usual harmonious noise, and yet it was… Firm, and without cheer. It allowed for no argumentation. Her thoughts resembled a bubbling witch’s cauldron in their turmoil and implicit danger, but the negligible weight of the Ambassador was a swift reminder of her duty. Still, her eye’s laser-like focus did not waver.

Miss Ambassador comes first, of course.

Bach let go of the box, stepping back looking straight up at the golem. Feeling like someone just walked across his grave and spat three times. He said with no small amount of venom, “Now put her on the bed.”

He knew he should have some measure of fear to be left here alone with Mandate now, he certainly didn’t act like it. He grabbed her grimoire dragged a seat beside the bed and gestured with his chin, glaring.

Finally, Mandate’s gaze moved away from the fey, focusing down upon the Ambassador’s face, then upon the bed. One arm lifting the Ambassador became two, as she relied upon the human’s position to keep the box balanced upon her.

From there, it was a very simple matter to move her onto the bed, though Mandate was not at all brusque about it. Her hands hovered uncertainly over the Ambassador, as if struggling to decide whether to arrange her differently or not. She eventually settled upon simply seating herself on the floor beside the bed.

Mentions

@fdeviant: Odette went and tampered with Gwyneth's box.
@Indy Cooper: Odette contacted Jacque Morin to seek out a meeting with Forge.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Nitemare Shape}

---

Time: Midnight
Location: Lost Haven, Maine

Charlene stared at her phone skimming through the mountain of messages from her friend, Carrie Ludwig. Carrie’s text messages ranged from all caps to strings of typos, different time stamps. The last message she received before the phone calls, was the most sensible one.

Char call me, this is driving me nuts!!

Charlie and Yvonne had walked back hauling their scrap. Yvonne shrugged at her when Charlie read the message out loud then decided to give Carrie a chat.

It rang a couple times finally Carrie picking up with a hello, “Everything alright?”

“Oh yeah! Glad you called, Charlie. I need your help with something, where are you?” Carrie replied cheerfully.

Charlie looked around then noted the street, “With Evie, your messages made me think something was wrong.”

Carrie paused a little then with all her might shouted into the phone, “HI EVIE! TELL HER I SAID HI!” Charlie flinched away from the phone in time for Evie to hear every word. The woman just squinted at the phone then shook her head. Carrie continued as breezily as before, “I guess so but can you come by and help me out with something? ASAP.”

Charlene looked to Yvonne who shrugged, “I ain’t got anywhere else to go. Triads are enough excitement for one night.”

“Alright, I’m just going to drop off my shit at home then step on over to your place. See you in 30.”

---

Hood down, a much lighter backpack, Charlie’s hand was on the old styled doorknob of her best friend’s duplex. Carrie opened the door wide as Charlie was reaching for it, stepping out into her immediate personal space. Carrie was never one to really acknowledge her immediate invasion of space. Behind her were sounds of various animals, the smell of them as well.

“Charlie! C’mon we’ve got a lot of searching ahead of us tonight, so I hope you wore running shoes. We’ve got some mysterious -- thing to find. It’s been bugging me, now it’s on the move.” She shuffled past Charlie her voice cheerful, energetic. Her massive amount of light brown hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head, dressed in a sundress and large hoodie to keep the evening chill off her shoulders. In her hands she held dowsing needles, ones Charlie recognized from previous midnight escapades.

“First of all, you have to let me in on what exactly we’re looking for. Two, those needles don’t do shit. Thirdly, it’s not exactly safe out tonight to go wandering around the city.” Charlie pointed out gesturing with her staff, “Maybe we should try in a week or something.”

Carrie gave her a strange look, Charlie typically being the first to take the lead on these searches. “What’s gotcha spooked? Didn’t think I’d ever see the day Charlie said no to a night out.”

Charlie shrugged, lowering her voice, “A witch and alchemist following some phoney dowsing needles isn’t going to look good alright? Who the fuck knows where the Hounds of Humanity are. They attacked clubs, magic folk, metas.”

Her friend looked at her thoughtfully then quickly gave her tall friend a tight hug, “That’s why I asked you to come with me. We can watch each other’s back. Here’s the skinny.”

The skinny? Oh my god. She thought, giving Carrie a brief one armed hug. Then listened.

“So, you might not feel it cause you’re the literal magical equivalent to a stick in the mud.” Carrie commented, Charlie huffed. “The past little bit there’s been this really weird, disturbance in the leyline crossing over Lost Haven. I don’t personally tap into it but it’s kind of a big deal for my neighbour downstairs. Been raving about not being able to sleep at night, then I heard him complaining how it was closer now than ever.” She held up her needles, “Hence why we’re going to use these.”

Carrie paused dramatically, grinning as they made their way down the street, “And that’s why we’re going out tonight. If it’s out here here on the East side then we might have a chance at finding it.”

“If it’s a someone then I want to help them before something else finds them.” Carrie finished sincerely. “Bleeding heart on my sleeve.”

Charlie’s slight frown turned into a smile, “Fair. Let’s find it. Lead the way.”

With that Carrie led the way, following the previously unreliable needles. Carrie was channeling her magic through a spell, focusing on the incredibly strange disturbance in the leyline. Neither of them were really familiar with the forces of energy that lay within the leylines. The Arcane Stream. Both Carrie and Charlie held magic within their blood and families. Carrie had an uncanny knack for understanding animals while Charlie understood alchemy.

While the needles themselves looked to be like simple thick knitting needles, along the stems were archaic symbols. They proved once again to be unreliable. They trespassed onto Gene Co property only to be chase out by approaching security guards, they wandered into the tennis ball courts at Lost Haven University to find nothing. They even walked as far past Sherman Square to find nothing but the nightlife turning down. They circled their way back to the east side, Carrie complaining she was getting cold well into the wee hours of the morning and Charlie’s feet hurting from walking all night. With their last stop at the airport proving to be a complete waste of time they made their way back home, both tired and ready to call it as the sun was starting to come up.

They cut through the local park and Carrie tugged Charlie down to sit on a bench with a grunt. She squinted at the needles and then chucked them clear into the creek. Staring at the spot for a second of consideration then she ran to retrieve them before they sunk too far out of her reach. Charlie watched rubbing the heel of her hand into her eye, stifling a yawn.

Her thumb rubbed an alchemic symbol on her staff idly thinking what could be causing so much trouble with the leylines. Obviously outside of Charlie’s expertise. She felt something strange, watching Carrie fish her needles out. It felt as if they were being watched. She sat up in the bench taking a look around, her imagination running wild now with her fears of Hounds of Humanity on the mind and extreme lack of sleep. Scanning the park she stopped on a tree, the vaguely humanoid shape sitting up in the branches caught her eye.

Standing up and not taking her eyes off the figure in the branches she walked over to Carrie, hand dipping into the water and pulling the needles free. “Look, someone is watching us. In that tree.” Charlie whispered gesturing with her staff.

“Huh?” Carrie replied then squinted against the morning sun.

Charlie hauled her to her feet, “I say we go confront them. See if it’s just some homeless person hanging out in a tree... or the something we’ve been looking for all night.”

Carrie nodded, holding her friend’s arm. They approached the tree together, now getting a closer look. Charlie’s mouth popped open with shock at what she saw and Carrie quietly squeed with delight.

“Oh my god! This is better than I thought!” Carrie said.

“What the fuck?” It was all Charlie could manage.

Mentions

@Indy Cooper : Charlie and Carrie found Berenice.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Nitemare Shape}

---

Time: Present Day - 10:00 PM
Location: Lost Haven, Maine

On the far east side of Lost Haven, the docks had quieted down. After the earthquakes earlier that evening, a lot of areas had shifted and for a few ambitious scavengers they took the opportunity to pick through what might have been impossible to sift through before. A pair of hooded figures leisurely walked down the docks, chatting excitedly for the spoils of the evening. At first glance they were scruffy to look at, old clothes, faces hiding beneath hoods. Figures difficult to discern their gender. Their leisurely pace from their confidence, working under the assumption no others would be out at this time of night to take advantage of the earthquake that kept the more skittish inside. One walking specifically with what looked to be a staff.

Upon closer inspection one would find they dressed ready for dirty work, dark browns and greys. Layered, most skin surface covered in spite of the summer heat still persistent even with the sun being set for hours. Knowingly choosing steel toed boots for where they were heading.

Earthquakes seemed to be the tip of the insanity iceberg, as of late. Especially for locals of Lost Haven, stranger things have happened and are happening all the time. Life went on regardless, no excuse was good enough to keep the brave off the streets.

The pair arrived to their destination, clambering deftly past no trespassing signs and fences. The abandoned warehouse had been all but picked clean, piles of haphazard machinery were stacked against the walls inside. Impossible to move aside safely. While the grounds outside of it were overgrown with weeds, tall grass, and littered garbage blowing across the open space.

It took two pairs of hands to force open the sliding door on the south side of the building, it gave way after a fair amount of cursing.

Twin shoulder flashlights lit up the area shining over displaced engines, rotors, all manner of heavy machinery parts. The taller of the pair removed her hood revealing dirty blonde hair tied in braids. Charlene Croll pulled down her dark brown mask to speak to her partner, “Smell that? Disturbed mildew and dust. Mask up, you were right the quake shifted shit.”

Yvonne Thompson removed her mask as well to reply, revealing dark brown hair twisted into a bun, a middle aged face lined with crows feet crinkling at the corners of her eyes with delight. “What’d I say, Charlie? We’re gonna have the pick of the crop tonight.” Clapping Charlie’s shoulder affectionately.

Charlene grinned toothily, “I got this area covered if you want to check out next door, yeah? I’ll radio you if I find something good.” She suggested gesturing with her wooden staff, the fluorite crystal catching the light of the flashlight. “Check in at the top of the hour.”

Yvonne nodded pulling her mask back up and stepping back out their entrance, jogging off to explore the warehouse one over. Pulling up her wristwatch and setting an alarm, it was just past 10 o’clock. Without further ado, she tuned the old, duck taped radio on her hip. Local news was playing, between music breaks. The radio and all other news sources were following all developments with the fall of STRIKE and attacks from a terrorist organization called Hounds of Humanity. Terrorist attacks rightfully scared the piss out of everyone. Magic and metahuman alike. Walmarts being blown apart, metahumans getting into a fight in the wreckage.

Then there was the gang wars raging across the west and south side of the city, everything was going to hell in a handbasket as far as everyone else was concerned. For Charlene, it felt like it was right at their doorstep. The rest of the Croll clan felt otherwise, they felt it was a world away. They kept to their own business, concern only reaching out for their neighbours and regulars. They lived in a half decent neighbourhood, most folk looked out for one another the best they could.

A point she and her mother, Julianne had butted heads on regularly. Jules wanted to keep her fresh university graduate home working in their shop.

With the news droning on Charlie set to work scrounging up parts that weren’t eaten away by the salty sea air. She picked through the piles the best she could, when the music returned she hummed along to the top forty charts, knowing most of the words to the latest pop songs. She moved through the piles, deftly examining pieces here and there scrutinizing parts while throwing some into her backpack immediately. At the top of the hour she climbed her way up to the second floor toward the foreman’s office radioing Yvonne.

“Checking in, Evie. Finding some good bits over here, how goes the hunt on your end?”

She paused waiting for the reply, it came through a few seconds later. “Yeah same over here, probably going to have to come back tomorrow with the truck to pick up some of the bigger- wait, hold up. Do you hear that?”

Charlie turned down her radio, listening intently. The sound of engines revving close by. “Hide. I’ll take a look.” There had been only a handful of times when they had to dodge the cops. Even in the abandoned areas, trespassing with a backpack full of scavenge was hardly offensive but… not something to be caught with. It was really unlikely for them to be doing a sweep through the area, they were too busy as it were.

She stepped up to the dirty window using her sleeve to wipe away a thick layer of grime, moving her goggles to her forehead. Squinting green eyes peered along the street looking for headlights. Down the far end two pairs of lights lit up simultaneously the sounds of engines revving loudly. The lights sped forward racing past the warehouses a few seconds later.

Bringing the radio up, unimpressed she spoke. “Street racers, Evie. I thought they were holding the races on the North end?”

Yvonne answered dryly, “Cops probably caught the rumours and chased them off over here. Let’s go before-! Shit! Char there’s some assholes at your front door! Get out of there!”

Charlene clutched the walkie talkie, making quick on hiding herself inside the foreman’s office. She replied seething, “I’m not going any fucking where. They’re responsible for all those hit and runs.”

“Charlie! No-” Charlene turned the walkie talkie off.

The voices below came through loudly as the door opened with a loud whine, rusty hinges protesting against the strain. She listened, grinding her teeth. A couple 49ers waltzed in beckoning the drivers in, Charlene heard a little Mandarin. Peering around the doorframe she counted three heads, including the one stepping out of the customized Mazda. Both vehicles were decked out with gaudy aesthetics spinning rims, green neon lights along the bottom of the car, rumbling chrome exhaust pipes. Lit up speakers thrumming with bass.

Eyesores. Charlie thought.

An idea coming to mind then a decision. She stepped away from the doorframe looking around the office, unafraid of whatever noise she could make being drowned out by the vehicles. Searching for anything she could use, she snuck around to the other side of a desk to find an abandoned homeless person’s bed. Opened soup and fried bean cans strewn about over a dirty sleeping bag. Snatching up all the empty cans, standing up she carefully placed each can in a line across the desk. She moved onto unscrewing some dead fluorescent lights. Stepping over puddles of water, seeing her last ingredient. The fire extinguisher.

She scrawled out old elemental symbols from memory, a steady hand while mumbling the formulas. Talking to herself through equations, as she was prone to do. Straightening them, gently Charlie opened her palm across the cans a deep breath through her nose, she concentrated on the mysterious forces of magic that dwelled within her blood.

The equation firmly in mind, the magic flowed through the scrawlings. The natural guidance of magic came as second nature to the likes of Charlene, deconstructing the base elements of the cans, separating them as the magic interacted with it, like following an instinct. Intimate knowledge of chemistry, the building blocks of life. Instinctually a skilled alchemist like Charlie understood what no microscope could provide the most dedicated scientist.

The metal in the cans seemed to spring to life, the aluminum sprang out the sides attaching to the cans around it. Moving like it was water splashing in every direction, the magic pulled all the cans together reshaping it into a larger and taller can with the available materials. Charlie made quick work again with the fluorescent light and fire extinguisher, instead of combining them she separated the more complex points of both objects down to what she needed, from there it was as simple as changing them to gas and sealing the can. Briefly considering the potency and deciding all she needed was an edge.

It was a little over a few minutes, the noise still evident by the drivers and their cars. By the time Charlie was done, the can was sealed with her surprise. A sly smile under the mask while she had worked.

Using both hands she carried her concoction over to the door peering around to see they had gathered in a small circle passing around a smoke. Adjusting her goggles, hood and finally mask. Taking another look at the trio of Triads. One sported a green mohawk, another wore a leather jacket, and the third was bald shaved down to the scalp a tattoo noticeably on the back of his neck. Pulling her ceramic knife from her hip she stabbed side of the can and threw it down to the group of 49ers, it landed rolling to tap against the one with the mohawk, the gas plumed around them.

Visibly the gangsters looked as if they were losing their balance, complaining. The bald one clumsily tried to reach for their gun, while the mohawk gangster tried to kick away the can. Pushing off the door frame she took a running leap over the railing, landing she pushed off from her crouch aiming for legs belonging to the man wearing the jacket. Her staff swept under his feet, he went down like a sack of potatoes. Her next target was baldy, with the gun in his hand. With the extended reach of the staff, she crouched low out of the crosshairs, spinning the tip of her staff against his hand, he lost grip, sending the gun clear out of his hand skittering across the concrete. He yelped holding his hand. Mohawk had snapped to attention.

Her grabbed her backpack trying to pull her off balance, cursing at her. Charlie shifted her foot back to compensate for the sudden pull, turning on her heel she brought her staff around in a one armed swing, connecting with his head with a audible crack. The hit sent him reeling, a final kick to his chest to sent him to the ground seeing stars. Baldy was recovering, her knock out gas still working him into a wobbly stance, he was on his feet trying to shake the effects.

Charlie circled holding her staff out, moving herself between him and the gun. He snapped something in mandarin, Charlie didn’t bother with a reply instead answered feigning left causing him to flinch. Ruthlessly she closed the space jabbing the butt of her staff into his chest, and much like the man who tried to grapple her she brought the staff around his head knocking him out cold.

The one on the ground rolled to his side, looking up at her and asked in a heavy accent, “P-please.”

“No.” She snarled then kicked him out cold with her heavy boot.

All three of them were out for the count, she left them where they lay and instead turned her attention onto sabotaging the vehicles. It was several minutes before she turned on her walkie talkie walking out the back entrance, radioing Yvonne, “We’re cool, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Behind Charlene the cars were unrecognizable. All the lights were destroyed, the paint peeling up all over the body of the cars, rusted out bumpers and fenders. The windows were all strategically cracked. The treads of the tires hiding pins that would only sink in when they moved. When the gangsters would wake, they would turn over the engines only then to discover it would burst into flame from Charlie’s tampering.

Whistling as she waltzed out of the warehouse, by the time she crossed the yard Yvonne was waiting for her nervously double checking over her shoulder. “Are you insane!?” She hissed.

Charlene shrugged, “I couldn’t just walk away. You’ve heard the news about how bad the street racin-”

Yvonne snapped, interrupting her, “No! The first time I let you beat up some assholes was because they were trying to mug some guy. Second time-” She held up two fingers, “-was because some drug dealer and his knife were between us and the exit. Today you had the choice to sneak out of there, you didn’t have to mess with them!”

Charlene rolled her eyes, “Come on, cut me some slack here Evie.”

Her friend snarled at her, “No! Look I make some pretty big allowances here keepin’ your weird magicy crap a secret because you’re a good partner and have gotten us out of some jams but you went out of your way tonight to show off.” She pointed at her adding, “Don’t think I don’t know you have an ego bigger than your head.”

“That is so untrue-”

“Reckless!”

“But I-”

“Absolutely stupid!”

“Uncalled for-”

“What will your mother think?” Evie demanded of Charlene.

Charlene let out a big sigh then smoothly slung her arm around her friend’s shoulder guiding her into a walk, Evie allowing her while she glared. “She doesn’t have to know shit, Eves. We did the neighborhood a favour, I just busted up their cars bad enough they won’t be back on the roads with customized eyesores any time soon.”

Yvonne stewed on that crossing her arms.

“The city’s got enough to worry about, now it’s two street racers less. Yeah?” Charlie said tilting her head her tone light.

Evie stuck up her lip then relented, “Fuck, girl. You’re a real pain sometimes y’know. Don’t ever shut off the radio on me again, got it?”

Holding up two fingers Charlie replied, “Scout’s honour, ma’am.”

Yvonne pulled on Charlie’s ear at ma’am, that earned a few chuckles from the pair.

Charlie pulled out her phone checking her messages, noticing in particular her friend Carrie, was trying to get ahold of her. Scrolling through her wall of text messages, something was wrong.

---

_{banner credit to Nitemare Shape}

New Beginnings Tournament.

Oh no, I'm just spectating and reading. Don't mind lil ole me. @Vordak

.:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

Grime, slime, and... a Little Time

@Captain Jenno - @Baklava - [@DearTrickser] Collaborino

“Anybody carrying water?”

From the safety of her little perch the skullkid had watched Archer lose his temper over his pants on the skeleton, she shook her head but kept her eyes on the skeleton. The funny thing about the undead is they had a terrible habit of standing back up when your back was turned. Though without a head or spine... Well it was debatable. Now the remaining skeleton was in pieces, little flames still hopping across the bones clinging desperately. She squinted at what was left of the fire and decided that the first chuchu did a great job at smothering the skeleton, the second time would surely just be for safety's sake. It also occurred to Jillian that Archer needed something to take his mind off his pants woe, hit two birds with one stone.

While Archer was examining his pants Jillian took the opportunity to summon one last chuchu. Similarly to the first green chuchu it appeared out of the dark purple summoning portal beside where Felicia had slipped. It chittered at Archer, with unnatural flexibility it stared up at Jillian. "Well go on then, smother the fire."

The chuchu hopped forward, it's gibberish sounded like excitement to the skullkid. It loomed over the remains of the skeleton then belly flopped on top of the pile of smouldering bones. A fresh wave of green slime splashed in all directions effectively removing the fire. Archer however, would not be spared the same treatment as the fire.

Archer was bereft of the energy to kick up a fuss about it, however. He felt heavy, as though he were wearing weights about the shoulders and ankles. Anger made his blood feel hotter, and an inability to adequately express it - no faces to pulverise, no bruises to sober him- made it feel thick, and sluggish. As though every vessel was squeezed at an angle, and the flow was choked. Only coming through when enough force pushed it. He made a mental note to yell about this later, however, because this was his favourite jacket, too. And he didn't doubt he'd feel chuchu jelly 'neath his nails and follicles for weeks to come, if he ever left this temple at all.
Archer exhaled again, but the breath rattled. Adrenaline laced and wasted. He leaned forwards to tear at the lengths of his jeans that stretched down beneath the knee, until he was wearing (and the thought sickened him): jorts.
He raised a heavy hand, and addressed Jillian with a pointed finger, "You're lucky I... ah, forget it."

Out of breath, Felicia managed to pull herself up from the chu jelly puddle using the bars of the jail cell. She grimaced as she moved, reassured her hip and elbow were going to be several different shades of purple by the time she got a chance to change clothes. Fixing her hat, she watched as Archer ripped the ruined portion of his pants. She opened her mouth to suggest she might be able to salvage them, but hesitated for far too long. Oh well. He probably wouldn't trust some random woman he barely knew with patching up his clothes anyway.

She clutched the sword to her chest with both hands as she focused on trying to calm down instead. Her heart was still beating wildly and, though it was now silent, she feared something might jump out at them at any second. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before scratching her shoulder and turning to face Jillian. No. Panicking now wouldn't do her any good.

"U-uh," she swallowed hard and wiped some chu jelly from her cheek with a clean portion of her hand, "Th-the chu jelly was a good idea actually. I-it should clean out of clothes. Doesn't stain too bad...." She glanced at Archer reassuringly before looking back to Jillian with an attempted smile, "Are-- are you okay?"

Archer was tired and burnt, red skin showing beneath tattered pant-legs. A few bruises of his own, too, albeit self inflicted. His eyes were heavy and glassed as he came down from the adrenaline. When Felicia threw him a glance, he offered only an unenthusiastic thumbs up. Less of a 'good job, team!' and more of a 'that sure happened, and now I need a drink.'

Jillian drummed her fingers across the bars, then nodded at Felicia, "I'm okay."

Tentatively she climbed down from the bars, removing her mask and holding it to her chest she began rather uncharacteristically bashful, "Thanks for fighting the skeletons I guess. If you guys hadn't I would've been toast, so... thanks." Staring at her shoes she kicked at a bone. "I've come back from nasty stuff before but I've never seen a skullkid bounce back from being a pile of ash."

Feeling she said her piece, she replaced the mask, "Those wallmasters huh?" She dug out her book again flipping knowingly to a page about them. "My book basically calls 'em useless to summon if you don't have a place to put whoever you're tryin' to catch. Otherwise they just take whoever and plops them wherever they want. Stupid things."

She held up her book for them to see. A crudely inked picture of a wallmaster on one page and notes in hylian on the other. "We're still in the temple, obviously but we need to get outta here."

Archer squinted at the page, sceptical of its contents, and mouthed the words under his breath. Slowly. Very slowly.
"Yeah, it sure does... say that..." he muttered, noncommittally, a different sort of red in the face. He put his hands into his pockets awkwardly, and then looked away, out through the bars of their cell.

"You're right, though. Even I'm not cocky enough to think I can melt the bars, though," he said, half-truthfully. He wasn't cocky enough to think he could do it right now, because he was physically and magically spent for this moment. But with a little rest, he was certain this level of arrogance, too, could be achieved.

"You think you could somehow slink through 'em? Mayb--", dawning realisation.
"Wait. If you're here, and I'm here... who's annoyin' my brother?!"

"Lethe I guess, I saw 'em make it across the bridge before I got snatched." Jillian shrugged. "Did you guys find the keystone yet?"

"We got attacked by keese, boulderbrains Hogswash rolled off, we figured out some stupid puzzles, mostly me, some weird mirrory scythes showed some spooky and hilarious reflections. Then Zephyrus poked himself with an arrow and so did Naviela. Then the wallmasters showed up and that was pretty scary." Jillian carried on in her nearly useless explanations, talking without much of a pause. When she did pause she looked between Archer and Felicia. "We didn't find the keystone though."

"We made it through literally one corridor before that hooded asshole started bein' all... hooded. And an asshole. I'm not sure how this is his fault, but it is and that's the hill I'm willin' to die on," Archer scratched his cheek, a thoughtless little gesture, "Also there was a Poe, I guess. Not our one, though."

Felicia listened quietly until it seemed appropriate for her to speak up. "We didn't find the keystone, either," she said simply. She ran her thumbs over the ornate pommel of her sword, thinking on Jillian's book and remembering how she'd summoned the ChuChus But what sort of monster could safely break the bars without potentially injuring someone? She slid her sword back into the scabbard at her hip as she turned to look outside the cell.

A single torch and a long hallway, leading off into pitch black darkness.

"Maybe there are some keys somewhere," she suggested, the end of her sentence tapering off into a whisper. What a stupid suggestion-- of course there were keys. There was a lock. There were keys. But where? "If-- if we could see further down that hallway..."

"Did you say that book can summon monsters? What're the odds you can just, have one'a those handsy freaks drop us off on the other side of the bars?" Archer asked, not quite grasping the extent to which Jillian was able to work her metaphorical mojo. Magic to him had always been very straight forwards. Get mad; break stuff.

Jillian scratched at some hair under her hat, "Are you deaf or somethin'? I just said they're useless, they'll just stick us right back into this cell. We'd have better luck trying to make a lockpick-! OH! I can do that! I can make a lockpick." She said slamming the book shut and diving her hands in deep to the slime to pull some bones free. Shaking the boney fingers free of slime she said, "Bones make great toothpicks too."

Toothpicks? Felicia didn't want to ask how Jillian knew that. She stepped aside and waited, quietly hoping Jillian's idea would work.

"I thought you said they were useless if you didn't have anywhere to dump what they catch. We have somewhere - outside of the cell. Why can't one you summon just... ah, screw it, just. Pick the lock. 'More I try to understand magic, the more I start to understand why Zeph is as boring as he is. Too much maths."

Jillian pulled apart the knuckles on the skeleton's hand separating the fingers. "Anyone wanna lend me a knife or something? I need to whittle this down a bit."

"I have a line cutter..." Felicia said hesitantly, snapping open her small tackle box for the second time that day. It was a very small pocket knife, but should she really be giving it to a child? Er... someone that seemed so childlike? She held it out to Jillian half heartedly-- a worried frown creasing her features.

Jillian hardly glanced at Felicia, spinning the knife in her hand then setting to work on the bone. "Bone is weird, the drier it is in the more brittle it gets. The opposite of wood ya'know..." Jillian paused finishing shaving down past a knuckle then shot Felicia a look seeing her worry, "Who d'you think made those puppets? I've been makin' puppets and other stuff for over a hundred years. I'm really good at it. Makin' a lockpick is nothin'."

Jillian turned back to the boney fingers, deftly gliding the small knife with her thumb. Flicking the excess shavings of bone as they curled. She whittled it down to a thick but fine point, then went to work on another finger, expertly following the natural curve of the bone to create a small hook. When she was done she held them up, smoothed down and ready to be used.

"I'm no good with locks, I usually break somethin' before trying to pick somethin' open."

Archer cleared his throat, and raised his hand: "Not to implicate myself in anythin', being an honest, upstanding citizen and all, but if you've got the pick, I've got the dexterity. Zeph doesn't let me carry lockpicks on me, but bein' a...", he coughed, "Magician has made me pretty nimble. Picked my first lock with another kid's hairclip when I was still real small."

Jillian stared at him, "Yeah yeah, if you're askin' me to make you lockpicks on the regular then whatever. Get us outta here and I'll make you 'em." She grabbed his hands then put the lockpicks into his sticky digits. She passed the knife back to Felicia, handle first. "Thanks, you good at fishing or something with carrying around a tacklebox?"

Still pondering the implications of Archer's 'dexterity', Felicia was surprised by Jillian's question. "Uh. You could say that I guess," she half shrugged, returning the knife to her tacklebox, "It puts food on the table anyway...." Her eyes followed Archer as he set to work.

"Can I look through your box?" She asked, her curiosity taking precedent.

Felicia turned her attention back to the undead child, pausing before she snapped the latch shut. Her box? She hesitated, running through the contents of the tackle box in her mind as she tried to assess what might happen if she handed it over to the childlike creature. Several lures, three old bobbers, some sinkers, some plastic worms, needle nose pliers, extra line, and a small matchbox filled with extra hooks. Then, of course, there was the first aid kit and knife. And a small jar of homemade sunscreen. Perhaps it would be fine. She had just handed Jillian her knife, hadn't she?

"M-mind the hooks," she muttered, holding out the box, "They're sharp."

Archer was already at work and a few tumblers deep, tinkering with mechanisms he couldn't even see. At one point this had been second-nature to him, when he'd been out on the streets, competing for his evening meal against performers whose pockets jangled when they walked. What was a couple incidents of lighthearted burglary between rivals?
Now, however, he found himself straining to raise each new weight. These older locks employed heavier levers, kept in place by rust and grime. His lock picking set, discarded now but once a valued tool of his trade, had been shaped from the shredded parts of an old saw. In a lock like this, the picks would easily have broken - but the bone, gross as it was, was at least not too brittle.

Archer thought to ask for quiet, but he knew that in old mechanisms such as these it was just as much luck as it was focus. Instead he narrowed his eyes, and stuck his tongue out to the side, concentrating - a rarity in his otherwise reckless lifestyle. Employing some semblance of the discipline Zephyrus had wished to instill in him, albeit in a less than desirable way, by his standards.
"Almost got it, I think. Just... a couple more..."

Jillian perked at Felicia's permission, surprised that she'd let her poke through her stuff. Slowly reaching out to the box keeping her eyes locked on the Hylian, in one quick movement and jangle of the box's contents Jillian had grabbed it quickly stepping out of reach. Giggling at Felicia's expression.

She sat down, similarly to Archer her tongue poked out when she lifted the lid rifling through all it's contents. In one hand she held up a lure and in the other a hook, catching the light then setting them outside the box. LIfting up the separator to reveal the bottom, and more to inspect. Quickly amassing a pile of everything that she found. Holding up the matchbox full of hooks shaking them as if she needed a clue as to what was inside. She emptied the matchbox of hooks onto the pile. Moving onto the sunscreen she took a long whiff of the jar, pressing a gob of it between her fingers - it was pretty thick. Recognizing the knife she put it onto the pile, carefully teetering it until it balanced. With the tackle box emptied of it's contents she lifted it upside down shaking it around, not finding any secrets as her hand patted along the sides. All the while she rattled off questions about everything she found, not really pausing to hear the answers. What sort of fish did Felicia expect to catch? Wouldn't the fish be the food on the table? Why did some of the worms look shiny while the bobbers were dull?

"You got a lotta junk in here," Holding up the tackle box again for Felicia to take it. Pausing she laughed, "Oh right, should probably put the stuff back huh." Scooping up the pile and moving the separator out of the way, in a few handfuls she carelessly dumped everything back into the bottom of it. The line tangled, hooks and lures tossed together and the only item to placed carefully was the jar of sunscreen on top. When she was done, she could barely close the lid with how things were piled back into it. Her hands were marked and sliced from the hooks, visibly moss already grew out of the cuts filling the new space.

"Oops." Opening and closing her hands slowly watching the moss grow over.

Felicia got the distinct feeling she'd made a terrible mistake as soon as Jillian stepped out of reach. Her intuition proved correct as she watched in silent horror as the skullkid unceremoniously dissected her tackle box. Almost robotically, Felicia took the empty box and stared as Jillian scooped up her belongings and dumped them back inside-- paying absolutely no mind to the hooks.

It being her only request, Felicia found this detail even more worrisome than the state of her tackle box. She watched the moss cuts on the girl's fingers, brows furrowed. There was an old sort of flame here-- angry frustration. Something familiar. More like a spark-- a memory. Why didn't she listen? Why didn't she ever listen?

Dejected, Felicia sighed, leaving the skullchild without any sort of reprimand as she did her best to prod the mess of fishing equipment into submission-- finally settling on leaving the jar of sunscreen in her pocket so she could close it. The tangled line and everything else could be dealt with later. It wasn't like she would be doing any fishing anytime soon anyway.

Click!

"Hah! Not gonna lie, that was... fifty percent guesswork."

And the other fifty percent was prayer.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

@Legion X51 Here u go.

8tracks Link: Lady is a Vamp

Spotify Link: Lady is a Vamp

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Real Name: Charlene Croll. Char, Charlie.

Alias: The Alchemyst

Speech Color: Honeydew

Character Alignment: Walking the Line - Leaning Hero. Chaotic Good.

[8tracks: Dream to Ignite]
[Spotify: Dream to Ignite]

Identity: Secret

Character Personality:

Charlene Croll has a deep and rich family history rooted in studying alchemy for hundreds of years. Her family focused largely on alchemy and alchemy alone, as a result is naive to other magical practices. The talent and magic potential lingers heavily in her family’s blood, granting them the ability to transmute the world around them. With the weight of carrying on family tradition on her shoulders, Charlene hardly acts the part. Her focus is on the present, forging her own path and discoveries. Takes immense amounts of pride in her abilities and her family, but struggles with identifying herself for the current generation.

Streetwise, smart, fast talker. Problem solver.

Incredibly observant, great spacial awareness and great sense of direction. As an urban scavenger, her versatility relies heavily on these abilities. Generally a sociable person when she has time, especially now that she has completed her master’s. Holds a close circle of friends, gets along well enough with her peers within the chemistry department at LHU, Lost Haven University. Charlene prioritizes her family above all else, above school and above herself.

Appearance

Appearance:

Charlene dresses in layers, old clothes, and uses a mask to cover her mouth and nose. Protecting her identity and protecting herself from old molds, dust and other dangerous airborne contaminants found in dilapidated areas. Wears a pair of goggles for the same reasons. Safety first!

She wears a long hooded sweater, old shirt and skirt with leggings. On her feet are beat up pair of running shoes, alternatively also wears steel toed boots. Often covered in a thin layer of dirt or dust.

Images

Age: 24
Hair: Long dirty blonde hair
Eyes: Green
Height: 6’1” - 183 cm
Weight: 155 lbs

Slim face, bright green eyes with a splash of freckles across her nose. Charlene has strong arms and legs, years training under her mother’s heavy staff. Urban exploration has lent well to keeping her active and lithe. Quick to solve a problem and just as quick to swing her staff under your feet.

Her Face

Origin/History

Origin/History:

Charlene Croll was born in Lost Haven to a long line of Crolls, a very proud and long standing family of alchemists. Born with magic in her veins, a knack for understanding the building blocks of the world around her.

Her mother, Julianne Croll married Keith Lancaster - Keith hailing from a family of enchanters, accustomed to the strange and arcane. When their circles intermingled, a whirlwind romance swept away the pair, as Nathaniel often refers to when Julianne met Keith. They married young, had children young and unfortunately for Julianne, Charlene and Harriet, Keith died young as well. Charlene attended her father’s funeral at age 9. Keith died when he was caught in debris, property damage collateral from metahumans fighting in the city.

Nathaniel, Julianne’s father, had lost his wife some years before they were married and helped raise Charlene and Harriet when Keith passed. Together Julianne and Nathaniel ran the knick knack and repair shop - Croll Corner. Teaching Charlene and eventually Harriet the biggest trade secret they had, Alchemy.

The little family did well enough for themselves, struggling when Lost Haven population became saturated with metahumans, followed thereafter with events like D-Day rocking the city. Riots in the streets by local gangs, cosmic horrors waltzing down mainstreet. The events had insurance premiums hit a record breaking high. But still they carried on, relatively alright save for Croll Corner, being looted during the riots. Julianne and Charlene were able to fend off the attackers but not before they stole the cash register. Nathaniel and Julianne vehement about keeping Harriet and Charlene well away from metahumans and all the problems that came with it.

Julianne taught Charlene and eventually Harriet when she was old enough, self defense and how to fight with staves. While Nathaniel and Julianne focused on their alchemy education, kept them distracted from the city and it’s rampant problems in crime and gang activity. Charlene picked and started crafting her Magnum Opus staff at 11, deciding on sycamore wood.

The Magnum Opus Staff is a family tradition, built around passing on knowledge to the next generation. The staves not only representative of the alchemist’s life but their preferred tool. The staff’s properties are added to, changed and modified throughout their lives. As they grow older the more thought and time is put into modifying it to strike a balance with the previous modifications made. Some Croll’s only add to it when they discover a new equation or make strides in their research while others choose to mark important life events upon their staff. The staves are individual as their wielders, often passing the staff onto the next generation to use.

For school, Charlene studied her way through high school and eventually attending Lost Haven University, she worked part time in the shop and other places to pay for her education with only minimal government assistance. Graduated recently, as of June..

Charlene remembers her father well, looks after her kid sister while making a few extra bucks from scavenging. In spite of having good reason to keep to her own business, Charlene wants to join the fray if not only to protect her family from groups like Hounds of Humanity or the gang wars knocking at their door, but to mark herself apart of something larger. Her pride as a Croll Alchemist would hardly allow for anything else.

Hero Type:
Mystic

Power Level:
Street Level

Powers/Skills:
Transmutation: An alchemist's bread and butter, able to focus the magic within her to change the form of things around her. For more complex changes she scribbles out the alchemical equation upon the item but for simpler things like removing water from alcohol she can do so without the help of a formula. As a skill it comes as naturally to her as it is to breathe. Excessive transmutation takes it’s toll on her mind in a similar way pulling an all nighter would. She begins to lose focus, much more likely to make a mistake. A good night sleep and a break helps to bring her focus back.

I.e Transmuting a state of an element from solid, liquid, and gas. Pulling and isolating certain elements, like oxygen or hydrogen from water. Adding certain elements to an object to change it’s form, forcing oxygen into iron graters to rust. Changing the shape of a wooden crate to stakes.

It takes time for Charlene to write alchemical equations to breakdown the base elements of what she is transmuting. While with simpler things like separating elements in water, she can do off the top of her head easily.

Fighting Skills: Trained by her mother, Charlene is quite proficient with a staff in her hands. Non-lethal fighting style.

Master’s Degree in Chemistry: Charlene has earned her master’s degree at Lost Haven University.

Scavenging: A good eye for searching an area for valuable components, tearing apart old computers, tvs, cars, quick to pick clean an area for valuable scrap before moving on.

Minor Herb/Medicinal Knowledge: Charlene maintains minor understanding and recognition of medicinal herbs, due largely to her grandfather’s expertise. Can recognize certain herbs and plants, use them for rustic applications.

Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Trained - 2 hrs.
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Above Average - Formally educated
Fighting Skill: Trained - Fighting Staff and Self Defense

Resources: Average - holds down a part time job as a lab assistant at the University, helps run family’s shop - Croll Corner. Makes modest cash off of her scavenging materials.

Equipment:
Sycamore Magnum Opus Staff: Made of sycamore, weighted with soft metals worked into the grain like tin, copper, and gold. Able to use the metals in the staff to change the shape, most often to that of a crowbar.

Magnum Opus Staff

Items found on her person/in small backpack:
Lithium batteries
Cat litter
Aerosol hairspray
Lighter
Flint and steel
Steel flask of whiskey
Water Bottle - Gasoline
A ceramic knife
Little packets of salt
Plyers
A packet of styrofoam

Weaknesses:

Human Constraints: Vulnerable to exposure, a bullet, a nasty fall, a hard hit around the head. Human through and through. Slightly above average pain tolerance, can withstand a hit. Otherwise, easy enough to hurt or stop.

Human Endurance: While her endurance is above average, when Charlene loses focus she begins to grow sluggish of body and mind. Much more likely to mess up an equation or miscalculate an element in transmutation. Which can result in some rather ugly results.

Supporting Characters:
Father (Deceased at 28)- Keith Croll (Changed name when he married Julianne), Keith was rather skilled with metal work and jewellery enchantment. Julianne keeps a set of rings to pass onto Harriet and Charlene from their father. Her father's side of the family approved quite readily of their marriage, the Croll's make annual trips to New York City for reunions and holidays.

Mother (Age 42) - Julianne Croll - Jules. Mother of Charlene and Harriet, manages Croll Corner and manages their training. Her staff is heavy, hardworked metals. The staff itself is dotted with quartz crystals, while it's core was replaced a long time ago with tungsten. Reflective of her teaching, focusing on toughening her children. Her patience for working with tougher materials resulted in an incredibly sturdy and hard staff. While she was a tough teacher to impress, she was never cruel. Always pushed just enough. Is a vehement believer in staying out of metahuman business, firmly believes the magical community was wrongly lumped in with them.

Younger Sister (Age 15)- Harriet Croll - Harry. Young, endlessly sassy, uses sarcasm like it was a second language. Smart, focusing her staff modifications on biological by products like shells and feathers. Struggles striking a balance of the lighter and inconsistent materials. Keeps a collection of feathers, convinced their elderly neighbours to bring back buckets of shells from their tropical vacations. Could spend hours on the shores of Lost Haven's south end.

Grandfather & Mentor (Age 68) - Nathaniel Croll. The gentle teacher to their tough mother. His staff is an intricate array of glass bubble terrariums with his various favourite herbs, most prominently rosemary. The roots embedded deep in the wood of his staff. Refers to his garden of herbs and flowers as classic alchemy. Brewing concoctions, salves, oils and ointments. Maintaining an incredible memory, extensive amounts of formal education and degrees in chemistry, horticulture, and a university professor for several years.

Friends:

Carrie Ludwig (Age 24) - Childhood friend and her go to for witchcraft needs and magical reference. Always smells of sage, cares for a small zoo of pets. Her favourite person to grab a drink with.

Yvonne Thompson (Age 47), a fellow urban scavenger, loner and tradeswoman. Charlie knows next to nothing about Yvonne besides her name, whether she's homeless or living in suburbia with a nuclear family. Yvonne has a great nose for good salvage spots, can negotiate a thrifty pawnshop owner into the ground.

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@fdeviant @ShyDot @Hellis Hey, I need your opinions specifically, but I'd appreciate anyone's really. I feel like this sheet is lacking in either history, abilities or weaknesses. I'd appreciate if you guys have any suggestions. Thanks in advance! <3

Charlene Croll - The Alchemyst

Real Name: Charlene Croll. Char, Charlie.

Alias: The Alchemyst

Speech Color: Honeydew

Character Alignment: Walking the Line - Leaning Hero. Chaotic Good.

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Identity: Secret

Character Personality:

Charlene Croll has a deep and rich family history rooted in studying alchemy for hundreds of years. Her family focused largely on alchemy and alchemy alone, as a result is naive to other magical practices. The talent and magic potential lingers heavily in her family’s blood, granting them the ability to transmute the world around them. With the weight of carrying on family tradition on her shoulders, Charlene hardly acts the part. Her focus is on the present, forging her own path and discoveries. Takes immense amounts of pride in her abilities and her family, but struggles with identifying herself for the current generation.

Streetwise, smart, fast talker. Problem solver.

Incredibly observant, great spacial awareness and great sense of direction. As an urban scavenger, her versatility relies heavily on these abilities. Generally a sociable person when she has time, especially now that she has completed her master’s. Holds a close circle of friends, gets along well enough with her peers within the chemistry department at LHU, Lost Haven University. Charlene prioritizes her family above all else, above school and above herself.

Appearance

Appearance:
Charlene dresses in layers, old clothes, and uses a mask to cover her mouth and nose. Protecting her identity and protecting herself from old molds, dust and other dangerous airborne contaminants found in dilapidated areas. Wears a pair of goggles for the same reasons. Safety first!

She wears a long hooded sweater, old shirt and skirt with leggings. On her feet are beat up pair of running shoes, alternatively also wears steel toed boots. Often covered in a thin layer of dirt or dust.

Images

Age: 24
Hair: Long dirty blonde hair
Eyes: Green
Height: 6’1” - 183 cm
Weight: 155 lbs

Slim face, bright green eyes with a splash of freckles across her nose. Charlene has strong arms and legs, years training under her mother’s heavy staff. Urban exploration has lent well to keeping her active and lithe. Quick to solve a problem and just as quick to swing her staff under your feet.

Her Face

Origin/History

Origin/History:

Charlene Croll was born in Lost Haven to a long line of Crolls, a very proud and long standing family of alchemists. Born with magic in her veins, a knack for understanding the building blocks of the world around her.

Her mother, Julianne Croll married Keith Lancaster - Keith hailing from a family of enchanters, accustomed to the strange and arcane. When their circles intermingled, a whirlwind romance swept away the pair, as Nathaniel often refers to when Julianne met Keith. They married young, had children young and unfortunately for Julianne, Charlene and Harriet, Keith died young as well. Charlene attended her father’s funeral at age 9. Keith died when he was caught in debris, property damage collateral from metahumans fighting in the city.

Nathaniel, Julianne’s father, had lost his wife some years before they were married and helped raise Charlene and Harriet when Keith passed. Together Julianne and Nathaniel ran the knick knack and repair shop - Croll Corner. Teaching Charlene and eventually Harriet the biggest trade secret they had, Alchemy.

The little family did well enough for themselves, struggling when Lost Haven population became saturated with metahumans, followed thereafter with events like D-Day rocking the city. Riots in the streets by local gangs, cosmic horrors waltzing down mainstreet. The events had insurance premiums hit a record breaking high. But still they carried on, relatively alright save for Croll Corner, being looted during the riots. Julianne and Charlene were able to fend off the attackers but not before they stole the cash register. Nathaniel and Julianne vehement about keeping Harriet and Charlene well away from metahumans and all the problems that came with it.

Julianne taught Charlene and eventually Harriet when she was old enough, self defense and how to fight with staves. While Nathaniel and Julianne focused on their alchemy education, kept them distracted from the city and it’s rampant problems in crime and gang activity. Charlene picked and started crafting her Magnum Opus staff at 11, deciding on sycamore wood.

The Magnum Opus Staff is a family tradition, built around passing on knowledge to the next generation. The staves not only representative of the alchemist’s life but their preferred tool. The staff’s properties are added to, changed and modified throughout their lives. As they grow older the more thought and time is put into modifying it to strike a balance with the previous modifications made. Some Croll’s only add to it when they discover a new equation or make strides in their research while others choose to mark important life events upon their staff. The staves are individual as their wielders, often passing the staff onto the next generation to use.

For school, Charlene studied her way through high school and eventually attending Lost Haven University, she worked part time in the shop and other places to pay for her education with only minimal government assistance. Graduated recently, as of June..

Charlene remembers her father well, looks after her kid sister while making a few extra bucks from scavenging. In spite of having good reason to keep to her own business, Charlene wants to join the fray if not only to protect her family from another big disaster like Hounds of Humanity, but to mark herself apart of something larger. Her pride as a Croll Alchemist would hardly allow for anything else.

Hero Type:
Mystic

Power Level:
Street Level

Powers/Skills:
Transmutation: An alchemist's bread and butter, able to focus the magic within her to change the form of things around her. For more complex changes she scribbles out the alchemical equation upon the item but for simpler things like removing water from alcohol she can do so without the help of a formula. As a skill it comes as naturally to her as it is to breathe. Excessive transmutation takes it’s toll on her mind in a similar way pulling an all nighter would. She begins to lose focus, much more likely to make a mistake. A good night sleep and a break helps to bring her focus back.

I.e Transmuting a state of an element from solid, liquid, and gas. Pulling and isolating certain elements, like oxygen or hydrogen from water. Adding certain elements to an object to change it’s form, forcing oxygen into iron graters to rust. Changing the shape of a wooden crate to stakes.

It takes time for Charlene to write alchemical equations to breakdown the base elements of what she is transmuting. While with simpler things like separating elements in water, she can do off the top of her head easily.

Fighting Skills: Trained by her mother, Charlene is quite proficient with a staff in her hands. Non-lethal fighting style.

Master’s Degree in Chemistry: Charlene has earned her master’s degree at Lost Haven University.

Scavenging: A good eye for searching an area for valuable components, tearing apart old computers, tvs, cars, quick to pick clean an area for valuable scrap before moving on.

Minor Herb/Medicinal Knowledge: Charlene maintains minor understanding and recognition of medicinal herbs, due largely to her grandfather’s expertise. Can recognize certain herbs and plants, use them for rustic applications.

Strength Level: Normal Human
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: Trained - 2 hrs.
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Above Average - Formally educated
Fighting Skill: Trained - Fighting Staff and Self Defense

Resources: Average - holds down a part time job as a lab assistant at the University, helps run family’s shop - Croll Corner. Makes modest cash off of her scavenging materials.

Equipment:
Sycamore Magnum Opus Staff: Made of sycamore, weighted with soft metals worked into the grain like tin, copper, and gold. Able to use the metals in the staff to change the shape, most often to that of a crowbar.

Magnum Opus Staff

Items found on her person/in small backpack:
Lithium batteries
Cat litter
Aerosol hairspray
Lighter
Flint and steel
Steel flask of whiskey
Water Bottle - Gasoline
A ceramic knife
Little packets of salt
Plyers
A packet of styrofoam

Weaknesses:

Human Constraints: Vulnerable to exposure, a bullet, a nasty fall, a hard hit around the head. Human through and through. Slightly above average pain tolerance, can withstand a hit. Otherwise, easy enough to hurt or stop.

Human Endurance: While her endurance is above average, when Charlene loses focus she begins to grow sluggish of body and mind. Much more likely to mess up an equation or miscalculate an element in transmutation. Which can result in some rather ugly results.

Supporting Characters:
Father (Deceased at 28)- Keith Croll (Changed name when he married Julianne)
Mother (Age 42) - Julianne Croll - Jules
Younger Sister (Age 15)- Harriet Croll - Harry
Grandfather & Mentor (Age 68) - Nathaniel Croll

Friends: Carrie Ludwig (Witch) & Yvonne Thompson (Urban Scavenger)

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Latest IC
Fallenreaper
3 hrs ago

Oh no! I'm behind again!!!

@Hound55