El Gato Naranja

Warhammer 50k: The Second Age of Strife

In the grim darkness of the 51st Millennium, the endless war continues.

There was no great conflagration or calamitous final battle.

Across the vastness of the galaxy, the Imperium died-- not with a bang, but a whimper. The galactic empire of humanity crumbled, its enemies too many, too great and too terrible to imagine. The great conflict of Octarius had no victory, a war without end. In the fiery chasm of strife, the locust and the green holocaust fused, as beast looked upon barbarian and both saw the other as kin. The new entity spread with a speed undreamt of by Ork or Tyranid. War and hunger melded into a singular desire to ravage and remake all in the image of the New Devourer. Seeing the greatest fight since the War in Heaven, Ghazghul Mag Uruk Thraka led a billion trillion Orks against the New Devourer. The gleeful Orks fought and died until none were seemingly left, and for a season, the galaxy thought the orks extinct. Alas, their hopes would be quickly dashed by this new horror.

The Devourer's hybrid nightmares were regenerative and spore-born, combining into a grand horror which murdered the galaxy, leaving naught but fragments as it left. Metallic sentinels of unflinching dread rose up on some worlds, leaving them safe from the New Devourer Waaagh, but instead made them slaves to the silver sentinels, and fodder for their glowing metal gods.

As if things could not go worse, the Emperor perished. It is said by some that he could no longer bear the torment of sitting upon the Golden Throne; others believe that an assassin somehow slew him once and for all. Whatever the case, Terra collapsed into a second Eye of Terror, and every soul in the Solar System dead. Only Titan remained as a sphere of defiance, where the Custodes and Grey Knights still fight against hordes of demons every single day.

With the death of the God Emperor, the Imperium shattered like glass. Echoing the fate of the old Greater Human Federation during the final days of the Dark Age of Technology, its sectors were isolated from each other. Unfortunate worlds were set upon the devious legions of Chaos, hungering xenos, or simply fell to the internal strife inherent to humanity. Many planets, reliant on shipments from agri-worlds, simply starved to death. Mad preachers roared a new rhetoric; the Emperor had punished humanity for its sin, and that they rightfully deserved their fate. Clusters of planets that were within short range warp from each other consolidated; some waited in vain for the greater Imperium to relieve them, while others rightfully concluded that the Imperium was gone, and they were on their own. So were the Petty Imperiums born as shards of mankind's empire.

Surging from the Eye of Terror, Abaddon the Despoiler’s 19th Black Crusade swept across the west, and conquered thousands of planets. In a galaxy bereft of the Emperor’s light, there could be no coordinated response, no crusade to be launched. Abaddon forged his own Chaos Imperium, and none could stop him. In the Maelstrom, Huron Blackheart did the same, with his Red Corsairs and hordes of Chaos cultists seizing control of hundreds of systems.

However, there are some worlds that refuse to succumb to despair and madness. The greatest of these patches of sanity left are the Three Thousand Worlds of Ultramar, which successfully held back the New Devourer and Necrons alike. From here, the returned Primarchs, Roboute Guilliman, Vulkan, and the Lion plan the grand reclamation of their Father’s dream. How could they accomplish this, however, when His light can no longer be seen in the Warp? Even with their allies (though 'allies' may be a strong word to describe them; some are utterly self serving, but useful regardless), such as Belisarius Cawl and his string of four score Forge Worlds, the highly advanced Farsight Enclaves, the mysterious Realm of Fathers, and at times, the Craftworld Eldar, whose diplomatic missives are led by the ancient Wraithseer and arch-manipulator Eldrad Ulthran, what they have before them is a seemingly impossible task.

However, from a planet in the Eastern Fringes, a Mechanicus Explorator vessel had returned, reporting of an artifact of great power. The techpriests were unable to extract and analyse it as they were attacked by mysterious foes. With no resources to be spared from keeping Ultramar protected from outside forces, several rogue traders had been commissioned by the Primarchs to seek out this artifact, and return it to Ultramar. Only time can tell if they are successful.

Somewhat optional backstory

The Eldar, who had clung to life for so long, began to wink out one by one. Many of the great Craftworlds were destroyed, the New Devourer consuming their people with nothing but the wraithbone skeletons of the continent sized vessels left behind. That, and the innumerable soul gems that lay glowing with countless murdered Eldar souls. Many Exodite worlds were also preyed upon by Chaos, other xenos, and Petty Imperiums. However, many of the more clever Exodites instead moved to conceal their presence, infiltrating high positions amongst the humans that colonized their planets. Some of the Petty Imperiums would thus be led in secret by Exodite Eldar, who had so cleverly disguised themselves as the mon’keigh. Their need for survival had outweighed their pride. In the meantime, the Phoenix Lords kept on fighting the enemies of the Eldar, their power swelling from the hundreds of thousands of Exarchs that had donned their armor by this time.

Nevertheless, the Craftworld Eldar refused to bow to fate. The Ynnari, led by Yvraine, the prophet of Ynnead and supported by Craftworlds Iyanden, Ulthwe, and Altansar, have repeatedly invaded Slaanesh’s palace. Each attempt so far has failed, but they are getting closer and closer to their goal of taking the final Cronesword from beneath the perverse Prince of Pleasure’s throne of excess.

Meanwhile, the remnants of Biel-Tan, allying with Lugganath, Yme-Loc, Alaitoc, and Saim-Hann, have sought to free Isha from the Realm of Nurgle. To the surprise of the galaxy, they have succeeded with the aid of a silver knight, a shadow raven, and a great gray wolf. It is said that the Wolf had asked for one strand of Isha’s hair, and was granted three. The knight, the raven, and the wolf soon disappeared, leaving the Eldar with their goddess of life, who immediately joined Cegorach in the Webway. Isha offered another path to her children: one of life. Her followers would be known as the Ishari, and would be at odds with the Ynnari.

While the Second Age of Strife may seem to be a Golden Age for the Dark Kin, Commorragh has changed much. Many of the Dark Eldar, fearful of losing their souls, had instead laid their allegiance to the Ynnari or the Ishari rather than their capricious Archons and the Supreme Overlord, forsaking their cruel ways in order to be assured a place in the Infinity Circuit. The Ynnari and the Dark Eldar would fight many battles in the Webway and realspace in these times.

In the galactic core, the Kin of Leagues of Votann find that almost all of their ancient supercogitators, the Votann, had finally failed. Though some of the Fanes had ascended into Votann, these were few in number, and nowhere as great as those original relics from the Dark Age of Technology. Furthermore, the New Devourer consumed many of the Leagues, with their Votanns going mad as they sought to deny the New Devourer the biomass of the Kin by feeding on their corpses first. It is said that only the Greater Thurian League, Kronus Hegemony, and Ymyr Conglomerate remained as the powerful Leagues of the Core, though they had expanded many times their original size as thousands of orphaned Kindreds flocked to their banners. Nevertheless, the Leagues continued to trade with whoever they can reasonably charge prices from, be it human, Eldar, Tau, or any of the numerous xenos empires that arose from the broken shards of the Imperator's broken dream.

The Tau, naive in their hope of unity, expanded into a realm of corpses and ash. Every world they came across was dead, life annihilated by the New Devourer. The hard and unpleasant task of terraforming each world turned the Tau into bitter, self-righteous beings. They were disgusted at the actions of their predecessors and vowed to not understand their fellow races, but to control them. Only the Tau could be trusted with worlds. And so, the Tau Empire grew into a powerful technological juggernaut of ten thousand planets and a hundred species, jaded as they witnessed the full horror of this galaxy.

Across the galaxy, the Necrons have yet to awaken in full, though they have become a powerful force that all other races know and fear. Imotekh the Stormlord and his Sautekh forces continually battle the vast Tau Empire in the east; the Silent King has continued to seek out ways to return his people to the flesh in the wake of the New Devourer. The Empire of the Severed continues to grow as a malignant tumor, robbing Necrons of what little spark of a soul they have left. And in other places of the galaxy, it is said that the Infinite and the Divine have continued their feud over the millennia, with entire planets destroyed in the wake of their petty rivalry.

In the turbulent energies of the Warp, the Chaos Gods also suffered, for with the end of the Emperor, something else was stirred. Birthed upon the death of the Carrion Lord on Terra, the Starchild suckled upon the rage and religious lunacy of the dying Imperium, consuming every soul remaining upon Terra in its birth pangs. This is what killed the Astronomicon. Ophelia became a focus for this dark zeal. At the dawn of the 50th millennium, the Starchild became the Star Father, and the Warp became a battleground. For a brief instance (or perhaps an eternity-- in the warp, none can tell for sure) the Star Father became dominant over the Chaos foes. Then, with the sickening inevitability of the great game of Chaos, the Star Father became one amongst the five, a god of order amongst gods of chaos.

It is the 51st millennium, and this a Second Age of Strife. And conflict shall never end…

Hello, everyone! Long story short, this will be set in a hypothetical Warhammer timeline, where the Emperor suddenly died and the Imperium shatters with Him. Players will be playing as members of a rogue trader crew sanctioned by the three Primarchs of Ultramar in a mission to recover an artifact of some kind. If you fail and die, well, nothing of value has been lost. If you succeed, however, you will be elevated as heroes, and be exalted by the Primarchs themselves. What is there for you to lose, anyway?

Players can initially apply as humans, Kin/Squats from the Leagues of Votann, or any of the other accepted abhumans, such as Ratlings and Ogryns. The RP will be open for as long as it runs; this gives the opportunity for people to app as other races such as Tau or Eldar, who we may pick up in the middle of our mission as our desperate situation demands.

As for knowledge of the Warhammer universe, you just need to know the gist of it. Any questions on the lore could simply be answered, probably in discord if this does get off the ground to warrant me making one.

---

Character Sheet

Take note that we'll be playing as higher ranking members of the expedition, as in the ones that will regularly come to/be regularly contacted by the bridge. Being a menial in the bowels of the ship wouldn't have too many opportunities for interactions with others.

You may have noticed that I didn't add a personality section. That's because I prefer that to be developed naturally in the IC over time.

[h3][b][u]CS[/u][/b][/h3]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Species:[/b] Human? Super-human? Abhuman? Kyn? (xenos can join sometime in the middle of the expedition)
[b]Appearance:[/b] Image, along with height in feet and inches.
[b]Role in the ship:[/b] Basically what you do as part of the expedition. Are you in charge of maintaining the engines, leading boarding actions, or what?
[b]Notable Equipment and Augmentations:[/b] No need for a detailed list for literally everything. Just need what weapons, armor, and cybernetic enhancement your character has, if any. Make sure to describe their capabilities.
[b]Skills:[/b] What are you good at? Are you a good shot? Great at stabbing heretics? If you're a psyker, add what psychic disciplines you specialize in.
[b]Biography:[/b] Basically your life story. Two paragraphs minumum. It is essential that you add how they got to be part of the Rogue Trader expedition to begin with.
[b]Additional Notes:[/b] Trivia, theme, or whatever else that isn't covered yet.

The Mutants

Daybringer

_{"There is peace and serenity in the light… Just kidding, this is going to hurt."}

^Daybringer

| N A M E: |

Isaak Alegre aka Daybringer

| A L I G N M E N T: |

Lawful Good

| A G E: |

21

| G E N D E R: |

Man

| S E X U A L I T Y: |

Technically straight, but doesn't care for romance.

| H I S T O R Y: |

■ 2001-2009 | Adoption

For 10 years, Mr. and Mrs. Alegre had been trying to bring forth a child to the world with no success. It had been their dream, to rear up a new life. This is supposedly to be the fruit of their labors; countless efforts spent in making their finances secure, all in the name of ensuring that their children and their children will have a comfortable life. Alas, it seemed that it was not to be. They could not have their own offspring. They'll have to adopt.

So, they looked into adoption agencies and other similar institutions, looking for an infant that they might bring up. What they were immediately given was this baby that was found abandoned on a convent's doorstep. The nuns had been caring for him during the last 3 months, and sought for a childless couple to take him in. The Alegres were happy with this, and after a somewhat lengthy bureaucratic process, they adopted him. They named him Isaak, for the nun that found him was said to have laughed.

At first, Isaak seemed to be an ordinary kid. He was a toddler that did toddler things. He was quite a nightmare for the parents to keep an eye on, but overall there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. This sense of normalcy was not to last, however…

■ 2010 - 2018 | Awakening

As a boy, Isaak would prove to be a somewhat capable student, usually middling in most things, but never the best. Despite what might looked like to be a decent station for him, he developed a deep inferiority complex that comes with never getting to the top. Insecure and suspicious, it didn't help one bit when some of the other kids thought it would be a fun idea to bully him for the laughs. This treatment caused him to be vindictive, bearing grudges out of spite. Authority figures in the school seemed to be useless in that regard too; despite multiple complaints and reports, they didn't do anything due to outside manipulation. Words couldn't describe his relief when his family, well off as they were, decided to leave for the United Kingdom, settling alongside some of their other relatives in London. Thankfully they were good English speakers…

It was around 2016 that the first aspects of Isaak's mutant power began to manifest. While cutting up a bunch of vegetables, Isaak accidentally cut his finger, letting out blood that shimmered with an iridescent yellow. He realized then and there that he was a mutant, one of those humans gifted; or perhaps cursed, with otherworldly power. He thought, though, that he could hide it somehow; that the powers he had gained were of the quiet kind, and wouldn't be known to anyone in first glance.

It manifested further, when had been walking home from school when he spotted a cat limping on the park. It had been crippled by abuse, causing it great pain. There, at that moment, Isaak felt an outpouring of mercy, a sensation of charitable duty. He lay his hands on the pained animal, wondering what he could do.

Right then and there, his hands were enveloped with golden fire, closing up the cat's wounds. Within a minute, it was able to walk properly again, though it ran away as soon as it realized that its motor functions had completely returned.

When Isaak came home, his mother, who was staying there for her remote job, saw that he had slightly changed by the gradual awakening of his abilities, somewhat. He didn't know it, but his irises had turned a quiet, glimmering gold. His mother didn't think much of it, however; she simply suggested that he use contact lenses to hide the most visible aspect of his mutation to other people, as they might not be as accepting as his parents and uncles and aunts and cousins would be. His father would learn of it later that day, as well as his other close relatives. They did not tell the other, more distant members of their family, however; they were notorious gossips.

He kept on practicing by himself, though. Cockroaches he hated, and he found that they were burnt to a crisp when he cast his fire upon them. After a week or so, he concluded that his mutant powers worked based on what he thought of the targets; mercy begets healing, hatred brought forth cleansing destruction. He'd use this in helping his uncle, who was an exterminator, in purging hordes of roaches and other pests. In return for this aid, he received a hefty allowance. This helped him somewhat in his high school years.

■ 2019-2022 | Revelation

Now a young adult in university, Isaak would find the first opportunity to use his powers in places other than pest control. During his fourth year, a rogue mage battled the Masters of the Mystic Arts based in the London Sanctum. In the middle of the fight, the rogue mage released a flight of demons that quickly grew out of control, necessitating the intervention of the likes of Black Knight and Captain Britain.

Elsewhere, the biting, scratching, and screeching creatures would be in part cleansed by Isaak, who was assaulted by a flock of them while he was passing close by. The curious pyromancy that did no harm to the environment caught the attention of some of the Sorcerers, as well as that of Captain Britain, who recalled no one of note that could do the same feats.

After the demons were banished by the efforts of the Sorcerers, Isaak would find himself face to face with the Captain, who asked him… a few things. That interaction would mark the turning point, as Isaak began to wonder if he could this mutant abilities for the greater good.

It would be shortly after graduation from his when he received an invitation to the Istituto Nova per Giovani Eccezionali. Seeing that it was an opportunity for him, he decided that studying in a mysterious Italian academy isn't too bad.

| S U P E R P O W E R S: |

■ Holy Flame:

At first glance, it might seem that Isaak is merely another pyromancer, like a certain member of the Brotherhood. However, Isaak's fire affects only living targets depending on how he views them; feelings of camaraderie, duty, or affection will cause this flame to heal minor to intermediate injuries, though it is still quite painful. Its power nullifies all but the most powerful of anaesthesia, making it a grim prospect to be healed in the long term with Holy Flame.

Holy Flame quickly heals small cuts and bruises; major wounds, such as stabs, third degree burns, and gunshots, can take up to a few minutes to hours to completely repair depending on severity. It cannot restore missing limbs.

Curiously enough, Holy Flame manifests as golden in color. It can be channeled through a held object, such as a staff or stick, for increased accuracy.

■ Smiting Flame:

On the other hand, an entity that Isaak despises will be smited upon contact with his fire. In maximum output, this is powerful enough to melt steel, though this will quickly tire out Isaak. Instead, he prefers to use a lower setting of fire, which causes third degree burns in a few seconds.

In contrast to its benevolent counterpart, Smiting Flame manifests as orange in color. It can also be channeled through a held object.

| H A B I L I T I E S: |

■ Musician:

Thanks in no small part to parental pressure during his childhood and teenage years, Isaak is pretty skilled in the piano. They still call him everyday to practice.

■ Cook:

In a Filipino household, it is a requirement for the eldest to know how to cook. As such, from early on, he knows quite a few culinary secrets.

| M I S C. N O T E S: |

■ Isaak has a cane with a golden dragon head. He uses it to accurately channel his mutant powers at a safe distance.

The Mutants

Daybringer

_{"There is peace and serenity in the light… Just kidding, this is going to hurt."}

^Daybringer

| N A M E: |

Isaak Alegre aka Daybringer

| A L I G N M E N T: |

Lawful Good

| A G E: |

21

| G E N D E R: |

Man

| S E X U A L I T Y: |

Technically straight, but doesn't care for romance.

| H I S T O R Y: |

■ 2001-2009 | Adoption

For 10 years, Mr. and Mrs. Alegre had been trying to bring forth a child to the world with no success. It had been their dream, to rear up a new life. This is supposedly to be the fruit of their labors; countless efforts spent in making their finances secure, all in the name of ensuring that their children and their children will have a comfortable life. Alas, it seemed that it was not to be. They could not have their own offspring. They'll have to adopt.

So, they looked into adoption agencies and other similar institutions, looking for an infant that they might bring up. What they were immediately given was this baby that was found abandoned on a convent's doorstep. The nuns had been caring for him during the last 3 months, and sought for a childless couple to take him in. The Alegres were happy with this, and after a somewhat lengthy bureaucratic process, they adopted him. They named him Isaak, for the nun that found him was said to have laughed.

At first, Isaak seemed to be an ordinary kid. He was a toddler that did toddler things. He was quite a nightmare for the parents to keep an eye on, but overall there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. This sense of normalcy was not to last, however…

■ 2010 - 2018 | Awakening

As a boy, Isaak would prove to be a somewhat capable student, usually middling in most things, but never the best. Despite what might looked like to be a decent station for him, he developed a deep inferiority complex that comes with never getting to the top. Insecure and suspicious, it didn't help one bit when some of the other kids thought it would be a fun idea to bully him for the laughs. This treatment caused him to be vindictive, bearing grudges out of spite. Authority figures in the school seemed to be useless in that regard too; despite multiple complaints and reports, they didn't do anything due to outside manipulation. Words couldn't describe his relief when his family, well off as they were, decided to leave for the United Kingdom, settling alongside some of their other relatives in London. Thankfully they were good English speakers…

It was around 2016 that the first aspects of Isaak's mutant power began to manifest. While cutting up a bunch of vegetables, Isaak accidentally cut his finger, letting out blood that shimmered with an iridescent yellow. He realized then and there that he was a mutant, one of those humans gifted; or perhaps cursed, with otherworldly power. He thought, though, that he could hide it somehow; that the powers he had gained were of the quiet kind, and wouldn't be known to anyone in first glance.

It manifested further, when had been walking home from school when he spotted a cat limping on the park. It had been crippled by abuse, causing it great pain. There, at that moment, Isaak felt an outpouring of mercy, a sensation of charitable duty. He lay his hands on the pained animal, wondering what he could do.

Right then and there, his hands were enveloped with golden fire, closing up the cat's wounds. Within a minute, it was able to walk properly again, though it ran away as soon as it realized that its motor functions had completely returned.

When Isaak came home, his mother, who was staying there for her remote job, saw that he had slightly changed by the gradual awakening of his abilities, somewhat. He didn't know it, but his irises had turned a quiet, glimmering gold. His mother didn't think much of it, however; she simply suggested that he use contact lenses to hide the most visible aspect of his mutation to other people, as they might not be as accepting as his parents and uncles and aunts and cousins would be. His father would learn of it later that day, as well as his other close relatives. They did not tell the other, more distant members of their family, however; they were notorious gossips.

He kept on practicing by himself, though. Cockroaches he hated, and he found that they were burnt to a crisp when he cast his fire upon them. After a week or so, he concluded that his mutant powers worked based on what he thought of the targets; mercy begets healing, hatred brought forth cleansing destruction. He'd use this in helping his uncle, who was an exterminator, in purging hordes of roaches and other pests. In return for this aid, he received a hefty allowance. This helped him somewhat in his high school years.

■ 2019-2022 | Revelation

Now a young adult in university, Isaak would find the first opportunity to use his powers in places other than pest control. During his fourth year, a rogue mage battled the Masters of the Mystic Arts based in the London Sanctum. In the middle of the fight, the rogue mage released a flight of demons that quickly grew out of control, necessitating the intervention of the likes of Black Knight and Captain Britain.

Elsewhere, the biting, scratching, and screeching creatures would be in part cleansed by Isaak, who was assaulted by a flock of them while he was passing close by. The curious pyromancy that did no harm to the environment caught the attention of some of the Sorcerers, as well as that of Captain Britain, who recalled no one of note that could do the same feats.

After the demons were banished by the efforts of the Sorcerers, Isaak would find himself face to face with the Captain, who asked him… a few things. That interaction would mark the turning point, as Isaak began to wonder if he could this mutant abilities for the greater good.

It would be shortly after graduation from his when he received an invitation to the Istituto Nova per Giovani Eccezionali. Seeing that it was an opportunity for him, he decided that studying in a mysterious Italian academy isn't too bad.

| S U P E R P O W E R S: |

■ Holy Flame:

At first glance, it might seem that Isaak is merely another pyromancer, like a certain member of the Brotherhood. However, Isaak's fire affects only living targets depending on how he views them; feelings of camaraderie, duty, or affection will cause this flame to heal minor to intermediate injuries, though it is still quite painful. Its power nullifies all but the most powerful of anaesthesia, making it a grim prospect to be healed in the long term with Holy Flame.

Holy Flame quickly heals small cuts and bruises; major wounds, such as stabs, third degree burns, and gunshots, can take up to a few minutes to hours to completely repair depending on severity. It cannot restore missing limbs.

Curiously enough, Holy Flame manifests as golden in color. It can be channeled through a held object, such as a staff or stick, for increased accuracy.

■ Smiting Flame:

On the other hand, an entity that Isaak despises will be smited upon contact with his fire. In maximum output, this is powerful enough to melt steel, though this will quickly tire out Isaak. Instead, he prefers to use a lower setting of fire, which causes third degree burns in a few seconds.

In contrast to its benevolent counterpart, Smiting Flame manifests as orange in color. It can also be channeled through a held object.

| H A B I L I T I E S: |

■ Musician:

Thanks in no small part to parental pressure during his childhood and teenage years, Isaak is pretty skilled in the piano. They still call him everyday to practice.

■ Cook:

In a Filipino household, it is a requirement for the eldest to know how to cook. As such, from early on, he knows quite a few culinary secrets.

| M I S C. N O T E S: |

■ Isaak has a cane with a golden dragon head. He uses it to accurately channel his mutant powers at a safe distance.

The Mutants

There is still the biography to make, but I should be able to finish this tomorrow.

(Also... I have to resize this image, sometime when it's not midnight lmao)

My Hider

_{"There is peace and serenity in the light… Just kidding, this is going to hurt."}

^Daybringer

| N A M E: |

Isaak Alegre aka Daybringer

| A L I G N M E N T: |

Lawful Good

| A G E: |

21

| G E N D E R: |

Man

| S E X U A L I T Y: |

Technically straight, but doesn't care for romance.

| H I S T O R Y: |

■ YEAR-YEAR | Tell your character’s background.

| S U P E R P O W E R S: |

■ Holy Flame:

At first glance, it might seem that Isaak is merely another pyromancer, like a certain member of the Brotherhood. However, Isaak's fire affects only living targets depending on how he views them; feelings of camaraderie, duty, or affection will cause this flame to heal minor to intermediate injuries, though it is still quite painful. Its power nullifies all but the most powerful of anaesthesia, making it a grim prospect to be healed in the long term with Holy Flame.

Holy Flame quickly heals small cuts and bruises; major wounds, such as stabs, third degree burns, and gunshots, can take up to a few minutes to hours to completely repair depending on severity. It cannot restore missing limbs.

Curiously enough, Holy Flame manifests as golden in color. A physical aspect of this mutant power is that Isaak's irises are a glowing gold, while his bloodstream, when exposed to air, shines in an iridescent yellow.

■ Smiting Flame:

On the other hand, an entity that Isaak despises will be smited upon contact with his fire. This is powerful enough to cause third degree burns on unprotected targets within a few seconds.

In stark contrast to its benevolent counterpart, Smiting Flame manifests as black and purple in color.

| H A B I L I T I E S: |

■ Musician:

Thanks in no small part to parental pressure during his childhood and teenage years, Isaak is pretty skilled in the piano. They still call him everyday to practice.

■ Cook:

In a Filipino household, it is a requirement for the eldest to know how to cook. As such, from early on, he knows quite a few culinary secrets.

| M I S C. N O T E S: |

■It is said that he either smells like toast beef or fried milkfish.

The Mutants

Interested.

Soon, there will be an application.

OBLIVION

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Trystan Salazar █ act one: way down we go p. johnson's ▸ Ritman High, Football Field Interacting with [@Everyone] ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Now that he wasn’t anywhere near his nosy relatives, Trystan considered himself free in the way he could interact with Dante. It was regretful, really, that he seemingly avoided him like the plague back in the day. Maybe that was a missed opportunity; something good that could have been, but never came to pass. Well, having a nice conversation wouldn’t hurt. After all, they’re adults now. Not some kids that are still under the absolute jurisdiction of their parents and guardians. “Hehe,” Trystan chuckled as Dante complimented his long, silky hair that would put a shampoo advertisement model to shame. “Glad you like it! I’ve been somewhat nervous that someone may say that, I don’t know, that it makes me look like a gangster, or something. The rest of the family keeps saying that it’s not ‘fitting for a man’, but if you ask me, Christ Himself probably had long hair. What gives? It’s not like they could judge me for it. Besides, whenever I realize that I’m spending a tad bit much for shampoo, I’ll have it cut back. It’s a cycle. Long, short, long…” Jack and Sara had arrived too, it seems. They even brought with them a keg of beer, which Trystan didn't pay much heed. He wasn't the drinking type. Trystan trailed off as Meir brought back the time capsule. It seemed just like yesterday when they had, as a class, placed some elements of memory into that canister. He himself placed a diary of his thoughts in there, which would be rather embarrassing to read, probably. Between the kind of demeanor he had back in high school, and the stuff written in that little notebook, it would have almost felt surreal to see what he really thought. Why did he choose that object, out of all the things he could place? He couldn’t remember, but it was probably because embarrassment may be the most memorable kind of thing. Trystan watched with anticipation as Meir began to open the capsule. He waited for the myriad objects to fall out, and be bequeathed in funny reminiscing. He waited for- “Well, that was odd,” Trystan said simply as the contents of the capsule had seemingly disappeared from the fabric of reality itself, instead all being replaced by a single, dusty book with writings no one could. Except maybe Meir, since he’s the one specializing in dead languages. “What’s it say? That better not be in Ancient Egyptian, or something.” Dante referenced the Necronomicon, which Trystan couldn't really remember from the top of his head. As for Billy, he was cheerful as always, which earned a snicker from Trystan. Melanie, though, seemed to immediately write off the loss of their items, and instead suggested that they play truth and dare. “I say Truth,” Trystan said, absentmindedly tapping Dante on the shoulder as if they had a secret communication. “Who wants to go first? If not, then I will.” ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

Oh yes.

It's begun.

OBLIVION

It seems quote tags are unusable. Sad.

OBLIVION

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Trystan Salazar █ act one: way down we go p. johnson's ▸ Ritman High, Football Field Interacting with [@Everyone] ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

"Hey, if you're after Agent Smith I think I saw him go that way!" he laughed good naturedly, gesturing with his free hand off in the distance. "How's it been, man?" Trystan followed Billy's hand, placing his gaze towards the point where the other man had pointed it. Of course, he did so in a pretty joking manner, playing along with the well intentioned attempt at hilarity at their reunion. He then looked back at Billy, whom he recalled rather fondly due to how entertaining he was back at the day, even if their number of serious interactions could be counted with the fingers of both hands. If there was one thing Trystan somewhat regretted, it would be the fact that he forgot to cultivate as many allia- ehem, friendships as his parents often told him to. Maybe something could change, starting from tonight. "I have done quite well over the last seven years, yes," Trystan answered with a snorting chuckle, "Got into a publishing house as an editor, generating enough income to make the ancestors proud. And you, well, I heard you were in a band…" Just as he was going to keep talking, another person came in, one that he was familiar with. The lady who used to accompany the mean girls that gave him the racism treatment. Nat… ah, what was it again? Natalia? Natasha? Nataliana? The guy had certainly received the sharp edge of the stick back then, the whole gang being unnecessarily hostile, Nat included. She felt slightly embarrassed, not sure of what to say. She stuck to a simple yet friendly but relaxed wave of the hand as a greeting. "Hello, Natasha," Trystan answered without too much fanfare in his voice while truly ending up forgetting the actual spelling of her name. He was still internally malding about the past right to this very moment, but he knew well enough not to show it, especially when they had a delicate event going on. Maybe he'll have a word or two after the whole affair was done. Other people started arriving, much to his relief, as he wondered if there was a greater portion of their old class that didn't bother coming along. None of the old gang of his had come so far, either. He recalled their machinations of chaos; the unravelling of horrible secrets, gossiping about the people they mutually disliked, and so on and so forth. To think they're the ones that didn't come along when he did… One after another, in quick succession, did Melanie, Marco, and Samuel arrive. He recognized Melanie easily, as the time they spent playing Dungeons and Dragons together had made him quite familiar with her face. It helped that she wasn't radically changed, unlike Samuel. Samuel had lost much weight, and was in effect no longer, as Nat put it when she finally recognized him, 'Chubby Cheeks'. Wait, she apologized? So fast? That is new. As for Marco, Trystan was simultaneously surprised and unsurprised by the cane. On one hand, he really did remember how Marco began to show up less in class, and when he did he either had crutches, canes, or at worst, had to ride a wheelchair. On the other hand, he never got used to the sight of Marco like that, knowing him mostly as the guy that always disappeared into the piano room. Speaking of which, he had been taught to play when he was a kid but he had mostly forgotten the art by now. Maybe…? Trystan's thoughts were once again interrupted when Oleander, the Nigerian guy and fellow immigrant, arrived. He swore that Oleander was avoiding him during high school, probably because he had somewhat of a mixed rap. So it truly caught him off guard when Oleander hugged everybody, himself included. It was odd, at the very least, that someone who was once keeping his distance had now come close. Appreciative of the gesture, Trystan hugged him back, almost snapping his spine in the process. When Oleander was finishing hugging Billy, though, he began tearing up. "Oh noooo..." he started, chuckling through the tears, "I can't believe I'm crying right now." He let out another laugh, wiping with the back of his palms, "This is why I hate being a crybaby. I'm so sorry guys, just ignore me. I'm being ridiculous." "Ah, my dear, there is no shame with tears," Trystan said assuringly. "To weep is simply part of humanity, and evidently you have missed us, Billy most of all. So don't be sorry about that! You can… ah, be yourself." “So, how long have y’all been waiting?” he ventures, glancing from one member of the group to another. A sudden gust of cold wind has him unscrewing the cap from his thermos, bringing it up to his lips to take a fortifying gulp. "Not too long," Trystan answered. He remembered Dante somewhat too, recalling that he had a company of his own now, judging from the images in his timeline. "Though we are still missing a few folks, so we might have to wait a little bit more. Hopefully not too much." ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

OBLIVION

On his last trip to the Philippines he thought of Trystan, wondering what it must have been like to make that massive move to the states, all to be bullied by some shitheads.

The ultimate dream for us Filipinos is to move to a Western country and get rich lol