She/Her | 28 | Black | 5'5 | 160lb _______________________________________________ Baddie _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "I have a particular set of skills that can kill a man." ___________________________________
Pole dancing ⫻ It's stripper 101. You want the dollars, then you gotta clap the pole between the cheeks. Dancing ⫻ Before she was on the pole, she was at the club every weekend grinding and gyrating on whoever wanted to dance with her. Holding her liquor ⫻ She's got a liver of steel. She'll drink you under the sink. Flexible ⫻ One of her exes was a freak that liked a lot of twisty weird shit. [REDACTED] ⫻ She's been told that her mouth is legendary. She's got this thing she does with her tongue. [REDACTED] ⫻ Her p**** goes pop, pop, pop.
Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I'd fuck me."
Anaya's counterpart, Aliyah, has honey brown skin she keeps moisturized and wears a glitter mist for that little extra shine. She's average height, has an hourglass figure, big breast, waist in a European size, and fat ass. Her hair is big, dark, and curly. She likes hairstyles that show off her natural hair: afros, puff balls, half-up half-down puffs, etc. The bigger the hair, the better. Her eyes are dark brown and she has long eyelashes. Her lips are thick and full and never without a gloss. She beats her face to the nines, before she goes anywhere, unless it's a grocery store run.
She likes to show off her body, so she wears tight clothes, crop tops, Daisy Dukes, low cut tops, and mini skirts. She doesn't look like the type you want to take home to meet your mama, and she will fuck your daddy. She has two piercings, one in each ear. She wears big gold hoops the most. Next to earrings, long necklaces that rest between her breast and bangle bracelets are her favorite accessories. Her nails are always done and long. She alternates between coffin shape and stiletto. It all depends on her mood and vibe. She likes high heels and cute fashion boots. If she's not at the gym, then she's not wearing sneakers.
Psychology ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "No thought, head empty headed bitch."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ Be a trophy wife, because she's too pretty to work.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ If it don't involve a Diddy party and animals, then she can get down with anything.
SECRETS ⫻ Is it really a secret that she's a snake ass bitch that'll sell mostly anyone out for money? But seriously though, her family don't know she's prostitute. She'll tell everyone else, but she won't tell them that.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Straight, if it's for her own pleasure. Will fuck anyone for money.
FEARS ⫻ She fears she'll die alone.
REPUTATION IN SHADOW ⫻ Anaya was a stripper. Every night, but the Lord's day, she'd be on the pole clapping her cheeks and giving lap dances. She'd turn tricks with patrons if they paid her high enough. She'd never give a blowjob to anyone for under $600. She's not cheap. Her parents are disappointed in her. They could've given her the world if she applied herself, but she didn't want to work too hard for it.
FLAWS ⫻ She'll always get hers. No matter who she has to scheme with or backstab to get it. She's just not trustworthy.
Backstory ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Very normal. Very basic. No I don't have daddy issues. My parents are lovely."
Anaya grew up in a two parent household in the south suburbs of Chicago. They were upper middle class with her mother being a university professor and her father owning a delivery business. She was an only child, so she grew up spoiled and mostly got everything she ever asked for.
Things got kinda weird for her when she went through puberty before the other girls in her class and boys and grown men started paying her unwanted sexual attention. She'd get stares or comments about her body that made her self-conscious to the point that she started wearing baggy clothes to hide herself. It's when her friends caught up to her development and all the other girls started looking the same that she didn't feel out of place and like she had to hide.
Her mom gave her plenty of wisdom about sex and boys and blah, blah, blah. Did she listen? Pffft, no. She was very easy in high school. Not just because she wanted boys to like her, but also sex felt good most of the time. She liked it. Soon enough it turned from wanting boys to like her to she was out for her own sexual gratification. That led her towards falling into the wrong crowd.
She was an It girl that hung out with other It girls that grew up in bad circumstances. She started sneaking out of the house and hanging out with people that she shouldn't. She had nothing but fun along the way. One of her older friends became a stripper right after graduating high school and she invited Anaya to join her after she graduated. Anaya wasn't interested at the time. That seemed like work and she didn't want to work. She wanted to play.
She had her parents' credit card and nothing but fun to be had, so she partied harder and had flings and drugs and just a wild time. It's when her parents looked at the charges and found out where she was spending her time most nights, that they staged an intervention. She either got a job to pay them back or she moved out. And like hell she was going to do that. After being a party girl for three years, the party was over... SIKE!
She had her friend hook her up for the stripper deal, 'cause like hell she was moving out and paying her own bills and being a responsible adult. She hit the pole and was a new favorite at the strip club. Both on the pole and out in the alley behind the building. She started prostituting herself when she realized that she had to pay the manager for pole time and that she didn't bring in much money from dollar bills. She's a bitch, but she won't be a broke one.
She never told her parents about the prostitution, because she didn't want them freaking out. They already hated that she took her clothes off for tips. After a few years, she's moved on from the dump that was the strip club she started in, and found a home at a high end place. She's hoping to snag herself a sugar daddy, so she can stop working.
Abstraction ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "This isn't what I meant when I said I could do a backbend."
TYPE ⫻ Aberration (Abominable).
ABSTRACTION ⫻Mirror Maw
ABSTRACTION DESCRIPTION ⫻ Anaya's Abstraction, known as Mirror Maw, is a living extension of herself, shaped by desire, cunning, and survival instinct. At first, Mirror Maw manifests as a strange, flexible control over her own body, though Anaya doesn’t immediately recognize it as anything deeper. She discovers she can stretch her arms and legs far beyond normal limits—up to around five meters—alter her height at will, shift the proportions of her facial features, and exaggerate her curves and posture. Movements that would be impossible for a normal human feel effortless, as if her body is bending reality itself. She can twist, contort, and stretch in ways that would snap or strain an ordinary skeleton, slipping through tight spaces, balancing on impossibly narrow surfaces, and landing from heights without injury. Her reflexes are uncanny, allowing her to dodge, pivot, and strike with a fluidity and speed that seem superhuman. Even simple motions—turning her head, reaching for an object, or adjusting her posture - carry a subtle exaggeration of grace and precision, hinting that her body is not merely flexible, but operating under a set of rules entirely her own.
Despite the surface-level utility, Mirror Maw’s true nature is hidden beneath these early manifestations. The distortions are only a taste of what her Abomination is capable of, and while she interprets them as minor shapeshifting, the Abstraction is actively reshaping her body in ways she doesn’t yet comprehend.
As Mirror Maw grows with her, the transformations become more pronounced, permanent, and dangerous. Limbs can remain elongated for hours, and fingers and toes sharpen into retractable claws capable of cutting or rending. At the same time, sections of her body can harden into natural armor formed from bone, keratin, or reinforced nails. She gains the ability to reshape her body with precision, molding her muscles, bones, and sinew to optimize for strength, speed, or reach, transforming herself into a predator perfectly suited to any situation. While subtle shifts in posture, silhouette, and movement make her simultaneously seductive and terrifying. At this stage, Mirror Maw is no longer just a shapeshifting trick; it is a living weapon, a predator forged from her confidence, cunning, and moral compromises, blurring the line between human and monstrous.
Eventually, Mirror Maw fully asserts itself, reshaping Anaya into a predator unconstrained by human anatomy. Her body is entirely mutable: she can twist, stretch, and contort at will, growing additional limbs, reshaping muscles, or forming natural weapons like claws, bone blades, and reinforced armor limited only by her imagination. Every part of her body is under her complete control—strength, speed, and reflexes surpass human limits, and her regeneration allows her to recover from damage that would cripple any ordinary body. Beyond physical augmentation, Mirror Maw grants her advanced shapeshifting abilities: she can temporarily assume the form of other people, animals, or even objects for hours, perfectly mimicking their appearances and movements, then revert to her true monstrous form with concentration.
LIMITS ⫻ At first, the distortions cost little, but as Anaya pushes the boundaries, the Abstraction demands a toll. Her body doesn’t simply stretch or reshape - it consumes energy, matter, and stability to do so. Prolonged alterations drain her stamina as if she’s burning calories at an exponential rate, leaving her ravenously hungry and dangerously fatigued. Large-scale shapeshifts (new limbs, armor plating, mimicry of others) are exceptionally costly, leaving her lightheaded or physically weakened once she reverts. In extreme cases, her body may “lock” in its monstrous state until she has replenished herself, preventing her from appearing human again. Mirror Maw is confined to the biological matter she already possesses. She can stretch, twist, and reshape her flesh, bone, keratin, and muscle, but she cannot generate completely foreign materials (metal, stone, fire, etc.). Her weapons are limited to organic extensions: claws, fangs, bone plating, sinew constructs - never external substances. Even her mimicry only works at the level of surface resemblance—she can copy someone’s physical outline and skin tone. Still, she cannot imitate their voice without practice, or duplicate fine details like fingerprints, retinal patterns, or DNA.
Her starting mass does not strictly bind her size - Mirror Maw allows her to create or dissolve additional biomass - but doing so requires energy and time. To grow bulkier, sprout extra limbs, or assume a larger form, she must “feed” the transformation, either by consuming vast amounts of food or drawing on her own reserves, leaving her weak and ravenous afterward. Generating new flesh is not instantaneous; larger additions unfold gradually, layer by layer, like her body is weaving itself together. Likewise, shedding mass to appear smaller or slimmer means breaking down and metabolizing her own tissues. This process can leave her temporarily gaunt, drained, or unstable until her body readjusts.
Mirror Maw’s control is also limited by concentration and complexity. Subtle shifts—elongating an arm, altering facial proportions, reinforcing a limb—are quick and fluid. However, large-scale transformations (such as growing extra limbs, forming natural armor, or fully mimicking another person) require intense focus, making it impossible to fight, run, or multitask effectively while sustaining them. Too much detail at once—say, trying to mimic both a face and grow claws—leads to unstable, glitchy results.
WEAKNESSES ⫻ The more Anaya uses Mirror Maw, the less cooperative her body becomes. Uncontrolled twitches, distorted proportions, or accidental weapon-growths can occur under stress, making her presence unsettling even when she’s trying to blend in. Regeneration is robust but not perfect: while she can recover from deep cuts or broken bones, massive trauma (decapitation, immolation, crushing) overwhelms her ability to mend. Repeated healing leaves scars or warped tissues that never fully vanish, slowly eroding her original humanity. Shifting isn’t instant. When reshaping large portions of her body, there’s a vulnerable window where bones are soft, muscles are half-formed, or armor plates haven’t fully hardened. A well-timed strike during this process can tear through her mid-metamorphosis, forcing her body to abort or leaving her disfigured until she recovers. High adrenaline, fear, or pain can cause her body to "decide for her." A sudden shift might spawn grotesque extra limbs, bone spines, or warped features that throw off her balance or expose weak points.
Mirror Maw’s mutations rely on flexible, living tissue—muscles, sinew, and bone — constantly reshaping at unnatural speeds. Extreme heat and cold disrupt that process in catastrophic ways. Fire chars flesh faster than she can regenerate, leaving warped scar tissue that stiffens her movements and forces her body to “reset” over time. Intense cold, on the other hand, slows her regenerative functions to a crawl and makes her flesh brittle, causing elongated limbs or extra appendages to snap under pressure. Even minor exposure (frostbite, burns, superheated metal) lingers on her body longer than ordinary wounds, locking her into vulnerable states. Finally, her mimicry is surface-level perfection, but not flawless. She cannot replicate another’s voice or scent without preparation, and prolonged disguises strain her concentration—she risks “slipping,” where parts of her monstrous form bleed through (elongated fingers, too-wide smile, irregular bone ridges). More insidiously, every transformation feeds the Mirror Maw itself, giving it greater influence over her instincts. Over time, she may find herself craving the hunt, unable to resist shifting into more efficient but grotesque forms, even when she wants to remain human.
Other ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Not my ass out in the streets when I could be behind a camera doing the same shit."
Aliyah has an Only Fan Account and rakes in 10k a month. She's a smarter hoe than Anaya.
WEAKNESSES ⫻ The Gravedigger is slow and physically cumbersome. The shovel is massive, and while it can cleave and bludgeon, Emil isn’t exactly nimble while wielding it. A fast or highly mobile opponent can easily dodge or outmaneuver him. The weight also makes prolonged fights exhausting. The Abstraction drains Emil’s life force along with the death essence. Using the shovel aggressively or summoning multiple undead isn’t free - it physically and mentally wears him down. If he pushes too hard, he could pass out, have his reflexes slow, or even permanently injure himself. The undead are dependent and fragile. They can be destroyed, and if they are, Emil loses the energy used to summon them. High-tier undead are slow to deploy, giving enemies a window to strike Emil while he’s distracted.
The Gravedigger can also create the Foreskin Ghost, and if he does so, he'll doom us all.
The moon reflected its light as the night went on peacefully.
A woman clad in crimson appeared.
A skull of death.
She walked from the shoreline all the way into the water until the waves kissed her bare feet.
The sea trembled. From its black surface, a shape began to swell—an orb of shifting water, vast and heavy, dripping. It hovered just above the waves, its glow casting a sickly hue on the water.
For a moment, the orb bent. Water surged upward, curling into the suggestion of shoulders, arms, a face that never fully resolved. A hand - if it could be called such - emerged, long and liquid, its outline collapsing and reforming with each heartbeat.
The Witch bowed her head. Mother Deep did not speak with words. The air carried her meaning, a pressure that sank into bone.
I am ready.
The Witch knelt, carving lines into the sand with a blade of bone. Circles upon circles, bound together with ash and salt, lit only by the pale moon. She laid offerings - iron, blood, fragments of old scripture - each placed with a trembling precision.
The circles burned as the offerings sank into the sand.
Blood darkened, seeping into the tide.
Mother Deep raised her hand, water clinging to her fingers like a veil. The Witch mirrored her, pressing both palms into the final sigil.
The world shuddered.
The sea bent backward, waves twisting into a silent wall. The moon flared bright, swallowed by an unseen hand.
And then—light.
It did not simply shine; it erupted. A tower of brilliance speared upward from the shoreline, carving a scar across the night sky. The moon’s reflection on the waves shattered like glass, every fragment swallowed into the column’s core. The stars themselves seemed to recoil, their patterns bent and warped by the sheer force that rose from the earth.
It was not fire, nor lightning, nor anything the world had language for. It was a wound—raw, searing, infinite—torn open in the fabric of existence. The horizon folded in on itself, coastlines bending, sky dragged down toward the sea. For miles, the ocean convulsed, pulled into impossible angles, as tides collapsed and reformed as if gravity itself had forgotten its role.
And through it all, silence. Not the absence of sound, but the suffocation of it - an oppressive, unyielding void that crushed the air from lungs, pressed against hearts, and filled the skull with a ringing emptiness. Every creature near, awake or dreaming, felt it: the certainty that something had been undone.
The ritual was complete.
The line was broken.
Adrien's Apartment, Capitol Hill, Seattle. Shadow.
Interactions: None.
Rain licked the window, drawing crooked lines down the glass. Adrien leaned back on his couch, one arm slung over the side, the other turning the sleeve of a record between his fingers. The low hum of Massive Attack filled the apartment, bass vibrating gently through the floorboards. He liked the way the sound filled the silence—thick, steady, like a second pulse.
The apartment was small but orderly. Stacks of books leaned on the end table, their spines marked with notes and tabs. A jacket was draped carefully over a chair. On the counter, the faint steam of a half-forgotten mug curled upward, dissolving into the air. He moved with precision in the space, never bumping a corner, never knocking things out of place—as though the room had been built around his awareness.
Outside, Capitol Hill glowed in neon smudges and streetlight reflections. Adrien’s glasses caught the light as he looked out across the street, watching a couple argue under an awning, their gestures sharp and obvious even without words. He studied them a moment, then turned away. Not his story.
He dropped the needle back on the record. The track restarted, filling the room with familiar shadows. He closed his eyes, let the rain and the music carry him. For now, this was enough—Seattle nights, a record spinning, the world quiet enough to hold together.
Rain pressed harder against the glass. Adrien sat back, head tilted, letting the bassline wash through him. The track played steadily—until it didn’t.
For half a breath, the sound warped. The record didn’t skip exactly; it bent, notes dragging low like a voice underwater. Adrien opened his eyes. The room was the same, but the edges of it wavered, like heat rising from asphalt. His mug on the counter seemed farther than it should be, then closer again. The couple across the street blurred into smears of light.
He blinked, rubbed at his face, but the distortion deepened. In the hum of the music, another sound bled through—a voice.
"... lee-"
It was drawn-out, hollow, like someone speaking through an old radio left at the bottom of a well. Adrien’s chest tightened.
"... rooooy..."
He froze. The name dragged across him like static, thick with a weight he couldn’t place.
"... Leeeeroy."
The voice was neither inside nor outside, neither dream nor waking. Adrien gripped the arm of the couch, grounding himself in the familiar. The record hissed. The rain slowed. The whole room folded inward.
He tried to move, to speak, but the name rang again—clearer, closer.
“Leeroy.”
Adrien blinked-
And he was gone.
Streets of Ft. Myers, Florida. Shadow.
Interactions: None.
The road hummed beneath the tires. Streetlights flashed rhythmically across the windshield, scattering colors over Imani’s hands. In the backseat, Illiana lay across several seats, braids spilling over her shoulders. The radio played low - some old R&B track that blended with the sound of rain starting to spit against the glass. Imani took in a deep breath and then let out what was on her mind...
"... Your teacher called me again," Imani sternly said.
Illiana shifted in her seat, pulling her jacket tighter. "So what? She’s always calling you." She punctuated that with a roll of her eyes that Imani missed.
They hit a red light, and Imani's head whipped back, "Don't get smart with me, lil' lady. She said you walked out." Imani didn't raise her voice at all. ”Mind explaining why?”
Illiana scoffed. “Because she wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom. What, I’m supposed to go on my-”
”Don't twist it, girl,” Imani's knuckles tightened against the steering wheel as the light turned green and she pressed the gas pedal. ”You didn’t go to the bathroom, you went to the parking lot.” She would have whipped her head around, but her attention was dead set on the road.
Illiana turned, smirking. “Maybe I just wanted some fresh air.”
”Keep it up, and you won't be getting much of that,” Imani rolled her own eyes.
"... Why's that?" Illiana asked.
”Because they're going to suspend you. And best believe if that happens, you aren't going to be out here running these streets,” Imani glanced over her shoulder.
Illiana sat up halfway. “'Running these streets?' You act like I’m doing drugs or some dumb shit. You don’t know what it’s like at that school.”
”One, don't curse at me,” Imani hissed, ”And two, I know what's not going to fix it; throwing tantrums every time something's not going your damn way.” Imani had to stop herself from shouting, taking a deep breath.
“You never listen,” Illiana shot back. “You just take their side. Every time. Like I’m the problem."
”Because you keep making yourself the problem,” Imani snapped, eyes fixed hard on the road. ”I’ve been around long enough to know how this ends.”
Illiana crossed her arms. “‘Cause you’ve got it all figured out.”
“You think I’m your enemy, but I’m the one keeping this whole damn thing together. You’ll see that one day.”
“No, I won’t,” Illiana muttered. “I don’t want your life.”
The air in the car went heavy. Imani’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. She opened her mouth—
—and then the world broke.
The road. The rain. The wheel beneath her palms—gone, snatched away in a blink.
Her chest seized. The air folded, bent, warped around her like glass under a hammer. A ripple passed straight through her body, erasing her breath.
And then she was standing somewhere else entirely.
Her body wasn’t her own.
University of Central Florida - Brandi's Dorm. Orlando, Florida. Shadow.
Interactions: None.
The hallway buzzed with faint echoes—doors shutting, someone laughing two floors down, the hum of a vending machine at the end of the corridor. Brandi’s sneakers tapped in rhythm against the floor, syncopated like her own private beat. Her headphones blared a rough demo she’d been working on—layered vocals, half-finished percussion—but it was enough to make her lips curl into a grin.
She swung her dorm room door open with a flourish, tossed her bag onto the bed, and moved straight to her desk, where her laptop and MIDI controller waited. Posters of artists she idolized lined the wall - some glossy and professional, others taped-up magazine cutouts. A strand of LED lights bathed the room in a neon pink glow.
Brandi shimmied her shoulders to the music, fiddling with her fair for a moment. Feels... feels right... maybe this track... yeah... gotta nail it...”
Her fingers tapped the desk in anticipation, drum patterns spilling from her. She could already hear it—the track she was about to make, the kind of beat that would get people out of their seats. For a moment, she forgot about everything else.
And then-
The sound collapsed. The music warped, folding in on itself like a tape chewed up by a hungry machine. Brandi ripped her headphones off, blinking. Her laptop screen glitched, her LED lights flickered, and the whole room seemed to sway.
She staggered back. The air vibrated, heavy, like bass turned too high. A pressure bloomed in her chest, pushing at her ribs.
Her hand shot to her desk for balance, but her palm hit nothing.
The room dropped away—walls, posters, music, even the hum of her own pulse.
Brandi’s breath caught, her voice snagged in her throat as if she were mid-song and the mic had been cut.
And then—
She was gone.
???
Imani’s eyes snapped open. The first thing she noticed was the weight—her body pressed down against something hard, stiff. Armor. Black, dented, scuffed plates covered her torso and shoulders. The straps dug into her skin as she tried to sit up, and her fingers brushed over a holster empty of a weapon she didn’t remember having. She froze. Nothing looked familiar. The room reeked of chemicals and burnt ozone, with a metallic and acrid scent. Her ears picked up a low, wet scrape near the corner. She turned sharply—and froze again.
A massive shark-like creature lay on the floor. Its body was jagged and wet, scales glittering in strange, impossible colors. It wasn’t torn or burned, and the walls and floor were untouched—just flattened, as if the air itself had pressed the life out of it. Imani’s stomach knotted. Whatever had killed it hadn’t followed standard rules; it was as if something impossibly precise and deadly had swept through, leaving nothing behind but stillness.
Her chest heaved. “Illiana...” The word tore out of her, but it didn’t sound like her own voice - it was softer and younger than she'd remembered. Panic gnawed at her mind. She swept her eyes across the room: steel beams overhead, pipes crisscrossing the walls, tanks humming softly. Shadows shifted along the floor. She wasn’t alone. Figures - other people - scattered around the room, their forms tense, unfamiliar. None of them spoke, but each seemed to be sizing the space and the danger, just like her.
Before she could speak to ask what in the world was going on, a distant roar hit her ears - waves crashing like the ocean itself had turned into a weapon. Explosions, clangs, shouts, something was fighting out there. Her body jerked as if it wanted to run.
She tried to remember. Her daughter. She had to find Illiana. Pushing to her feet, she felt the armor shift differently - lighter, less cumbersome than before, her joints springing with a strength she hadn’t had in years. Every movement was more effortless, almost unnervingly so, and yet instinct kicked in without hesitation - hands steady, eyes sweeping the room, tactical awareness sharp despite the rising panic.
Now-
A high-pitched scream shredded the air, sudden and raw. Imani spun toward the sound just as a small girl collided with the floor, scrambling backward over pipes and debris, arms flailing.
”Oh. My. GOD!” The girl screamed, ”What the fu- WHERE THE FUCK AM I?!”
Her petite frame shook with panic, afro puffs bouncing as she spun in place, eyes wide and wild. She slammed against a wall, then pressed her hands to her face, muttering broken fragments of words. Every syllable was a squeal, a stutter, a gasp.
Imani's chest tightened, ”Hey! Look at me!” Imani commanded, effortlessly getting the girl's attention, as she closed the gap effortlessly. She grabbed the girl by the shoulders and said, ”Keep your feet underneath you. Panicking isn't helping right now.”
A low, shaky voice came from across the room. Imani’s head snapped toward it. A man was rising from a pile of pipes, his black suit and trench coat singed in places. He opened his mouth, clearly trying to speak, and the words stumbled out.
"W-wait-hey, we-uh..."
The voice faltered mid-sentence, breaking into a rough, unfamiliar timbre. Imani’s eyes narrowed - he looked just as disoriented as she felt.
The realization hit him as hard as the chaos around them. His lips moved again, trying to speak, and he stopped himself, biting his tongue. His shoulders slumped.
”... Something's wrong,”
Imani rolled her eyes, ”Yeah. I blinked and I'm in a room full of strangers. There's a dead monster in the middle of the room. Something's wrong alright.”
The man scrunched his eyebrows, he scanned the room for a moment as if to find this 'monster' before saying, ”... What monster?”
Imani’s eyes swept the room again, landing on every unfamiliar face, who looked just as confused as the other two she had just spoken to. ”We don't have time for this.” Imani muttered to herself, before her eyes swept across the room, taking in the scattered bodies, the unfamiliar armor, the dead shark sprawled on the flaoor. ”Hey, everyone, look at me.” She got everyone's attention, pointing at herself.
Heads turned. Some hesitated, unsure. A few whispered to one another. She didn’t flinch at their confusion. ”I don’t know what happened, but freaking out isn’t going to help. Find your feet. Take a breath. Focus. Let's figure out what's going on, maybe why we're here...”
Imani’s eyes flicked toward the shadows at the edges of the room. She didn’t see it - she didn’t hear it - but somewhere down the hall, a wet, subtle slap... slap... echoed faintly, almost imperceptible, the rhythm of something heavy moving. Her gut tightened, though she didn’t know why.
@Skai your character instantly gave me cancer. Accepted. @Atrophy The mere mention of "Mommy Ocean" instantly made my cancer terminal. Accepted.
WEAKNESSES ⫻ Darlene must stay tethered to Ted. If the connection between them is strained (Example: if Ted resents her, rejects her “help,” or outright denies her existence), she weakens drastically: her incorporeal/invisibility powers flicker, her link breaks, and she risks “static burnout” that leaves her unable to manifest for hours. While Darlene can’t be destroyed, she has a fixed anchor: the personal items of the cursed host. With Teddy, it was his campaign materials, his wedding band, even his tailored suits. With Ted, it's his old boots, his wedding ring, or his scars (which she’s erased). If an enemy damages one of these anchors, Darlene’s form destabilizes. For example, smashing Ted’s watch could make her manifest uncontrollably or strip away her protective stasis for hours at a time. The “Damsel Indefinite” protection isn’t clean. Every time Ted survives something that should’ve left lasting damage - poison, infection, shattered bones - the cost is deferred. The curse builds pressure like a debt, and if Darlene is forced away (by banishment, disruption, etc), Ted suffers all the deferred injuries and illnesses at once.
The orphanage is quieter than usual, though maybe that’s only how it feels to Destiny.
The corridors are full of the usual noise — children laughing, sisters calling out instructions, the shuffle of feet as coats are pulled on and scarves tied tight — but the sounds reach her like they’re underwater, distant and muted. She lay on her cot, staring up at the cracks in the plaster ceiling, replaying the last few nights in her head. Not the thing’s face (she’s seen uglier) but the words. Vessel.
It wanted her. Out of anyone, her. Not to kill, not even to feed—something worse. That word still sticks to her skin like oil. She remembers the weight of the net pinning her, her body refusing to obey, and the sick certainty that she was about to be claimed—then, Latoya(?) tearing her free. A hand yanking her back, the fight tipping, the creatures fleeing. She rolled onto her side, jaw tight. If Latoya hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t be lying here now. She hates the thought—no, she despises it. In the Pit, survival was hers alone. Here, she let herself stumble.
Complacent. That’s what it would be called if she let herself believe Cloverfield was different.
It wasn’t.
The horror had only learned to dress nicer.
Every time a door bangs or a floorboard creaks, her shoulders twitched. The orphanage should feel safe, but the walls feel too close today, the crucifixes and candlelight-like decorations over a silence she can’t trust. A few of the younger children glance at her in the halls - some curious, others uneasy - and their thoughts slip toward her whether they mean them to or not.
Destiny saw something.
Destiny's cursed.
They don’t ask, but their minds already have. She stood abruptly, pulled her jacket from its hook, before the walls pressed in further. The sisters are herding the children out for the Thanksgiving festival, and she falls into step behind them without a word. She tells herself she’s going to hear the music, maybe get something to eat, and play at normal for a while. But she knows that’s a lie. The festival isn’t what she wants - it’s just an excuse, a direction to walk in, a place that isn’t here. What she really needs is space, air that doesn’t taste of plaster dust and memory, somewhere the word vessel can’t echo so loudly.
The Spanksgiving Festival.
The festival sprawled through the streets like a living, breathing creature - lights blinking, music drifting, the smell of fried dough and roasted nuts thick in the air. Children darted past her, laughing, bumping shoulders. Vendors shouted over one another, tossing candies and small trinkets into open palms. The chaos should have been comforting, a reminder that life continued to move forward. Instead, it pressed against her chest like a hand she couldn’t shake.
Destiny let herself drift with the crowd, scanning more than just the physical space. Thoughts flickered across her mind: a boy fretting about losing his pumpkin pie, a woman laughing at something in her phone, the occasional fragment of irritation or gossip. None of it rooted her. All of it felt distant, like echoes in a cavern, except one.
And then she saw her. Latoya. Across the crowd, a flash of familiarity - her tall frame, high puff, that quiet confidence that seemed to anchor the chaos of the festival around her. Destiny’s telepathy reached for her, brushing against the edges of her mind. But Latoya’s thoughts... they didn’t flow like normal thoughts. For a heartbeat, Destiny’s chest seized. The world slowed, narrowed, and she felt the pull, the expectation of words she didn’t want to speak.
Destiny’s feet shifted. Her eyes flicked to the left, scanning for an escape, a path that would weave her away from Latoya without anyone noticing. Her telepathy whispered the thoughts of those around her, snippets of mundane curiosity: Who’s that girl? Something about her... odd. She looks scared. Even strangers could sense it, and it pressed down on her like a physical weight. The festival became a blur, the music and laughter fading behind her as she pivoted, ducking behind a row of booths. She didn’t stop to look back. She couldn’t.
Every step she took carried the weight of that choice: to move, to survive, to keep the memory of the night in the alley at arm’s length. Latoya would be here, somewhere, and she would be waiting - Destiny didn’t need her eyes following her. Not today.
She told herself she was just exploring, that she might circle back eventually. The lie tasted bitter, but it was better than the truth: she was running, not from the crowd, not even from the noise, but from the hand that had yanked her back from death, from being claimed. She needed space. She needed air. And most of all, she needed to be alone with her fear, not wrapped up in the presence of someone who could see every jagged edge of it.
I’m running from her. From her and everything she makes me feel.
............................................................ "A house for the forgotten."
St. Eleanora’s Orphanage rises from the snow-dusted streets of Cloverfield like a relic from another age, a Gothic monument of black stone and narrow windows that loom over the children it houses. St. Eleanora’s squats on the far end of Cloverfield’s South Bank, where the streets thin out into warehouses, coal yards, and half-collapsed tenements. Built long before the Cataclysm, its spire and clocktower once symbolized discipline and moral order. Now, the orphanage feels more like a mausoleum — a hollow guardian clinging to faded ideals while the world outside cracks apart. The building groans in winter, its drafty halls carrying the sting of cold even when fires burn, and in the summer, the walls trap heat until the dormitories feel suffocating.
Inside, the orphanage is as divided as the city around it. The front halls are carefully maintained - polished wood floors, varnished pews, and stained glass restored to shine in the morning light. But deeper inside, where the children live, the plaster is cracked, the paint peeling, and the stairwells echo with a damp chill that never leaves. Meals are sparse, chores endless, and privacy nonexistent. Though the matrons preach order and discipline, the children have learned to create their hierarchies and rules, a fragile society within stone walls that never quite feels safe.
For Destiny and the other orphans, St. Eleanora’s is less a sanctuary than a cage. On the South Bank, St. Eleanora’s is spoken of sparingly. People call it “the orphanage” without naming it, as though giving the place a proper title lends it power. Some cross themselves when passing its gates. Others won’t meet its windows, claiming that too many eyes watch from inside. To most, the place is simply a house for the forgotten. To those who live nearby, it is a place that evokes too many memories.
The air is thick, heavy, and it smells like rot. The ground isn’t solid—it shifts like mud, and sometimes she thinks it’s made of bones. Faces push out of the walls, mouths opening and closing like fish, but no sound comes out.
Something crawls behind her. She runs, but her legs feel slow, like she’s moving through water. The whispers follow anyway. You don’t belong. You’re nothing. You’re not you.
She sees a faint light ahead, the only thing that seems safe in the dark. She reaches for it, but it turns into a hand, grabbing her wrist and pulling her under. She can’t breathe. She can’t scream. The Pit swallows her whole.
As it always does.
Destiny jolted awake, heart hammering, locket clutched so tight the edges dug into her palm. The room was quiet except for the soft snoring of the other kids in their bunks. The air smelled like laundry soap and dust, but she still swore she could taste the Pit in the back of her throat. She sat up and listened. No whispers. Not out loud, anyway. Just her head echoing too much. The beds creaked when someone rolled over. She watched them—kids her age, younger ones, and older ones. All asleep, all safe, or at least they looked like it. She didn’t feel safe. She never did. Sometimes they tried to talk to her during the day. Asked her to play, tried to share food, and asked about the locket. She never knew what to say. She wasn’t like them. She felt like an animal shoved in the wrong cage.
Even here, surrounded by people, she felt alone. Worse than alone—like she wasn’t even supposed to exist in the same room as them.
She lay back down, clutching the locket to her chest. Sleep wouldn’t come again, not after that dream.The morning after the nightmare, Destiny slipped out of the crowded dormitory before the other children had finished waking. Her feet carried her to the orphanage bathroom, where the cracked mirror and dim light offered her a quiet corner away from the chatter and shuffling. She stood at the sink, hands resting on the porcelain, staring at her reflection without really seeing it.
Destiny sighed. Closing her eyes. She repeated the mantra her mother told her,
Anyone else would be losing their mind on the Mother Will's abrupt arrival. Destiny, on the other hand, didn't so much as flinch. If anything, Destiny would be rolling her eyes if she knew what that meant. The little girl simply stared at the reflection in the mirror. The Mother Will unnaturally lean forward until her lips are level with Destiny's ear,
"... You feel it too, don’t you?" The Mother Will softly said, "You belong here. These children - they don’t understand you. But the Pit does. I do.”
Destiny’s jaw tightened. She didn’t answer. She had learned long ago that speaking back only dragged things out. Her real mother’s voice echoed in her head: Ignore her. She can’t touch you if you don’t let her.
The Mother Will didn’t mind the silence. She never did. “Every night, it pulls at you. Every morning, you wake with its breath still clinging to your skin. You are not like them, Destiny. You never will be.”
Destiny sighed. Closing her eyes, trying to steady her breath, trying to push the voice into the background like tv static. She pressed her palms flat against the sink, willing herself to think about anything else—the orphanage bell, the smell of toast still clinging to the halls, the kids arguing over who got the bigger slice or whatever videogame they were playing.
But the Mother’s voice slid through anyway. “You’re wasting yourself here. Playing at being one of them. You could be so much more if you stopped fighting it.”
Destiny sighed.
”... I'm not going back.”
"You say that, yet you dream of it every night," The Mother Will whispered. “All that power, all that control... It’s waiting for you. The Pit would bend to your will, Destiny. You could shape it, master it, command it. You could be everything you were meant to be.”
Destiny forced herself to breathe evenly, to let her eyes trace the cracked tiles instead of the reflection behind her. I’m not going back. I won’t.
“But there’s more,” the Mother pressed, leaning closer, so close that Destiny could feel the cold pull of it in her thoughts. “Your mother... Darlene. You want to see her again, don’t you? She’s waiting for you. I can show you where. You have to take the step.”
Destiny’s heart thudded, and for a moment she froze. The Pit had taught her to be cautious, to distrust every word, every shadow—but the thought of Darlene, the faint hope of finding her again... it tugged at something raw inside her.
The Mother Will’s smile widened. “You’ve survived the Pit once. You can survive it again. But this time… you won’t be alone. You’ll have me. You’ll have your strength. And her.”
Destiny blinked. She could almost feel the pull of the Pit, the seductive promise of power and reunion, but she swallowed the panic rising in her chest. No. No. No. Don't listen. Don't listen. No. No. No. The thoughts raced through her head. Her vision blurred slightly as The Mother Will’s words echoed in her mind. She couldn’t stay here - couldn’t sit in a room that smelled faintly of disinfectant and stale bread while that voice tugged at her from the mirror.
She stepped back, grabbed her coat from the hook by the door, and slipped quietly into the hall. The orphanage was already stirring - voices calling from the dining hall, the distant scrape of chairs on the floor—but she ignored it all. Her feet carried her to the door, past the rows of other children, past the tired adults trying to hold the place together, and out into the streets of Cloverfield.A year had passed since the Cataclysm, and the roads of Cloverfield had slowly begun to reclaim themselves. Most of the collapsed buildings were cordoned off or cleared, and the larger debris had been removed, although the work on the South Bank was patchy at best. Destiny could still step over broken pavement, dodge leaning lampposts, and skirt around piles of rotting trash. Rusted cars sat abandoned in alleys, their windows shattered, tires long since stolen or flattened. The air smelled faintly of smoke, damp concrete, and the kind of rot that clings to alleyways where the city’s forgotten live. Graffiti stretched across crumbling brick walls, marking territory, telling stories, or warning off passersby.
Destiny kept to the edges, letting her telekinesis lift small obstacles silently out of the way: a tipped trash can, a loose plank, a low-hanging cable. Her eyes flicked constantly, trained to notice everything. She wasn’t afraid here in the same way she had been in the Pit, but she couldn’t shake the sense that this neighborhood had its kind of cruelty, one that waited for the careless or the distracted. Her boots clicked on broken pavement, the sound swallowed by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a stray dog. She didn’t need to worry about anyone noticing her - not really - but she kept her head down anyway.
Her thoughts drifted, as they always did, to Darlene. The memory of her mother’s hands, steady and warm, guiding her through the chaos of the Pit, flashed through her mind. The way Darlene had bent time just enough to save them, the way she had spoken of hope even when everything around them screamed despair. Destiny’s chest tightened at the thought—at the same time fragile and comforting, like a spark barely clinging to life.
And then, like a shadow at the edge of her mind, the Mother Will whispered. She always whispered. Even here, far from the Pit, she could feel that presence brushing against her thoughts, leaning in, speaking in the tone Destiny had learned to ignore.
“You remember her, don’t you?” The voice was soft, insidious, curling around her fears and desires. “You feel the pull. The Pit remembers you. And she... she waits. Don’t you want to see her again?”
Destiny pressed her jaw tight and tried to shove the voice aside. The Mother Will walked just behind her, keeping pace. Ahead, a figure moved with an effortless grace, her blonde hair catching the weak morning light. Destiny didn’t recognize her—but the Mother Will’s voice slipped into her mind like ice.
“See her?” it whispered. “That girl... Princess Nadine. Reckless. Impulsive. Dangerous. You’ve never met her, but she’s an imposter.”
Destiny’s eyes narrowed, scanning the figure but saying nothing as they walked past.
"You wouldn’t know it yet, but she’s left destruction in her wake. Lives ruined. Innocents hurt. All because she wanted to be a hero. Write the story. All to sate her ego." The Mother Will monologue, "And worst of all... she doesn’t realize how much damage she's caused!”
Destiny pressed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, forcing herself to focus on the cracked sidewalks, the occasional flutter of trash in the wind. She wanted to ignore the voice, but it slithered closer, insidious and patient.
“You could fix this,” the Mother Will murmured, almost tenderly, “End her reign of terror before it reignites! All it would take is one choice... You wouldn’t let her continue to hurt people, would you?”
Destiny’s stomach twisted, a strange mix of revulsion and curiosity. She didn’t know this girl, didn’t feel any loyalty—but the certainty in the Mother Will’s words pressed at the corners of her mind. Destiny paused. With a quick usage of her telepathy, the girl was long gone. Or at least she couldn't detect her anymore.
“She’s reckless,” The Mother will whisper, “And she deserves death. Not for yourself... but for the people she’s already hurt. For the chaos she left behind. You could stop it. You could stop her.”
Destiny stood there.
Before she kept walking, she didn’t turn. She didn’t answer.
Destiny let the noise of the South Bank swallow her thoughts. The smell of something warm and cheesy caught her attention—an unfamiliar aroma amidst the concrete and smoke. A pizza shop had opened for the day, a small neon sign flickering above the door: “Sal’s Slice.”
The Mother Will softly begin to coax her. “See that, Destiny? A simple little pleasure. One slice... and it could be yours. You know the spell. You’ve done it before. Just a nudge in their minds. A thought here, a word there...”
Destiny hesitated at the door, the ordinary desire for food colliding with the unnatural pull of the Mother Will's voice. “It’s just pizza,” the Mother Will whispered. “Just a single slice. You could take it without asking. They’d smile, nod, and obey. And you... You’d feel that power again. Isn’t that what you crave?”
Her jaw tightened. She knew what the spell did—Domination. She could bend a person’s mind, erase hesitation, and force them to obey a single command. Usually, she resisted. Normally, she ignored the urge... But today, the day felt heavy and dull; the streets were empty enough that the pull seemed harmless. Destiny stepped inside.
The bell over the door chimed. A young clerk looked up, smiling politely. “Welcome! First time here?”
Destiny didn’t answer. Her eyes locked on the counter, on the perfect slice waiting in the display. The Mother Will’s voice whispered, patient, teasing. “Just a thought... and it’s yours.”
Destiny let the Domination spell slip out. It was subtle at first—just a tendril of suggestion curling around the clerk’s mind. She felt the power, warm and intoxicating, threading through her thoughts and into his. The clerk’s eyes glazed ever so slightly, his posture relaxing, his smile widening almost unnaturally.
“Give her the largest slice,” He said.
The clerk nodded as if compelled by some invisible force, then grabbed a slice and handed it over. Destiny took it without a word, and quickly left the store without a once of subtlety. As she left, the Mother Will stood by the door. Watching her as Destiny got further and further away.
As Destiny walked back into the streets of Cloverfield, the warm slice in her hands suddenly felt heavier than it should have. The city buzzed faintly around her, but she felt oddly isolated. A flicker of guilt pricked at her chest. The clerk... he hadn’t wanted to give it up. He had smiled, yes, but it had been a smile manufactured by her own mind. She had taken what wasn’t hers. She knew it.
But the weight of the day, of the lingering emptiness that followed her nightmares and the Pit’s pull, dulled the guilt almost immediately. It was easy to overlook it. It didn’t matter.
No one else mattered. Not today.
And...
Interactions: Some monsters. Maybe with their dongs out.
The Mother Will was gone at least for a short period. Destiny should have felt relief, yet without the Mother Will, the streets of Cloverfield felt… lonely. Any company, even a dangerous one, might be better than none at all. She slipped into the narrow alley between rusted warehouses, the shadows swallowing her tiny figure. The warm weight of the stolen pizza slice pressed against her chest, a small comfort amid the city’s harsh chill. She didn’t dare slow down — the world had taught her that.
Pressing herself flat against the cold brick wall behind a dumpster, she took a quick, cautious bite. A flicker of motion caught the corner of her eye.
Her head snapped up.
She reached out, her eyes closing briefly to tap into her telepathy, and she reached for the thoughts and emotions lingering nearby.
There.
A presence, subtle but unmistakable — something watching, waiting.
Not human.
Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to remain still—no sudden movements. No sounds. The pulse of emotions flooded her mind — tension, anticipation, a shadow of hunger. Destiny’s heart beat louder in her ears, but her body stayed still, blending into the darkness. She narrowed her eyes, extending her Emotional Prism carefully, trying to dissect the feelings from the watcher without revealing herself.
From the alley's grimy depths, a figure unnaturally pulled itself up from its hiding space as if pulled from an unseen puppeteer by invisible strings. Even at this distance, Destiny could spot nothing reassuringly human about it. It appeared vaguely masculine, unnervingly tall, and carried a disturbing soft around the belly. Its eyes were pitted, locked on the dumpster Destiny hid behind, as if drawn by her panicked breath.
“Hello! Are you lost?” The sound of the creature wetly sucking in a deep breath filled the air, followed by a rasping, guttural giggle. A bone cracked sharply. “Ohhh, oh you smell,” another sickening snap echoed, this time from its neck, “perfect.” The creature jerked completely upright and began to writhe, stretching in all directions as muscles ripped wetly, tendons shredded sharply, and bones crunched and splintered under the weight of an unatural warping. The human face and neck slumped grotesquely to the side as the shoulders sank unnaturally downwards. Its arms stretched, and stretched with a leathery tearing sound, until they dragged like boneless ropes on the ground behind the monster, each finger curling and hardening into an individual jagged spike. Its legs snapped violently backwards into distorted hindlimbs, and more cruel, knife-like spikes burst forth from the creature's toes.
The perfect vessel.
That was what was going through the creature’s head from a glance using her abstraction. Destiny was brought back to her time in the Pit: Hide. Run. Fight. She clenched the pizza slice in one hand as she raised the other and tuned in on the creature’s position… She activated Deception. She created an illusory version of herself and sent it hauling ass in one direction, as she quietly walked away in the other.
“Run, run, run, run as fast as you can.” the creature paused as its arms pulled themselves back into the shoulder socket, before both were aimed up. One towards each form, aiming to wrap around their ankles. While the illusion was enough for the creature to not know which one was which, it was smart enough to know it could figure it out with just once simple strike. Both arms launched as if they were a rocket, with the pointed tips reaching out with malicious intent.
Destiny screamed as the tendril wrapped around her ankle and fell to the ground. Her poor pillaged pizza also hit the ground, yet she was not going to stop here. She dropped the illusion before focusing on the dumpster that she previously hid behind - channeling Force of Will to grasp onto it with nothing but her mind and swung it at the monster like it was a mace.
The dumpster impacted the monster and threw it into the nearby wall, granting Destiny a moment of reprieve as the grip around her ankle loosened and the monster lost its grip on its prize. Yet it would not be for long. The dumpster that crushed the monster was suddenly and violently flung off it, crashing through the wall of the building on the opposite side of the alley, and continuing through the building until it went out the other side, impacting a car on the other side and coming to a halt from there. A third arm had formed out of the sunken shoulder socket, and the dangling human face had its face locked onto Destiny. “Oh yes. OH YES. Yes, you are strong! You ARE perfect.” It pulled back both elongated arms, coiling them back up onto its shoulders and aimed towards Destiny once more. It launched them at a blinding speed once more.
Destiny gasped. It was persistent as the other beasts. Usually she had the backup of the other Adepts in the Pit, but now she was alone. She panicked. Disregarding any of the other options she had at her disposal.
She screamed yet.
It was over.
”... STATIONARY BARRIER!”
The creature's arms slammed into the barrier and instantly any remaining bones left in them crunched, and became dust as they failed to break through. Cracks would farm in a spiderweb pattern outward from the impact point, speaking to the power behind the strike, yet the barrier would stand. The dagger like hands would simply fall to the ground defeated, before they were reeled back into the shoulders. A smirk crossed the creature's face as its eyes began to dart across the alley. “I did not sense you before…. Why did you run if you had such an ally at your side, vessel?”
Destiny groaned, ”... I’m not your vessel!”
In the blink of an eye, a translucent barrier appeared before her and the creature’s arm. The source of the voice stood on one of the rooftops, holding a well-worn book at her side while a comforting, confident smile appeared on her face.
”My, my,” She called out, ”You sure are an ugly one! Please return back to whatever hole you spawned out of!” Elodie raised the book to chest level, opening it as floating pink runes and moats of light appeared. She raised her other hand and began reciting a chant as she charged up for a moment.
”... Acidic bubbles!” Elodie shouted as several large green bubbles floated towards the monsters that would spray him with acid upon popping.
“Exsanguinate,” the creature responded before tendrils of its own blood shot out from all over its body, with each one aimed towards the bubbles in turn. While these launched outward it pulled its arms back and prepped them to fire again..As they impacted, the acid would spray out, disabling the tendril from further snaking. Thus, even though most of the bubbles were popped well before they reached the creature a few would still impact it. The acid sizzled on the creature's skin, and sections of flesh would dissolve and fall off its frame onto the ground below. As the last bubble popped, the creature's skin began to pull downward, pulling skin from the creature back towards the chest area. “Clever insect,” the creature paused as it crouched down to the ground, leaned back, and launched itself at a blinding speed towards the woman on the rooftop while also launching both arms at the girl on the ground, aiming above the barrier from before.
Thinking on her feet, Destiny cast Deception again - except on a far larger scale than before. She completely vanished, and in her place, about a dozen identical copies that scattered in random directions as Destiny ran off.
”... Predator!” Elodie shouted as Red runes floated around her as she placed a hand over the book. ”I will ensure there is nothing left of you!” She chanted… before an explosion appeared near the creature.
”DETONATION!” Elodie shouted, but without even giving it another second, she charged up another spell.
The explosion enveloped the creature in an instant, burning its skin and throwing its trajectory downward into the upper wall of the building. It’s arms were forced dowards and missed their targets. It crashed through the wall as a charred, smoldering amalgamation of flesh and contoured limbs, and the impact sent a cloud of debris into the air. A moment after impact, two voices screamed out in horror before their voices were cut off by the sound of the creature slashing, and stabbing. After a few seconds the two corpses were flung out of the hole impacting the ground below with a sickeningly wet crunch.
“Tell me,” the creature spoke from inside the building. Instantly something would feel off to Elodie. The hues of color that defined a world of life instantly began to blend and fade together, sound would lose definition and clarity, and her skin would no longer recognize the sensation of clothes against it. All of these sensory inputs would be suddenly, and violently replaced with an overwhelming sense of dread and despair. “Have you ever experienced the true feeling of Nothingness, adept,” the creature mocked.
The building between the creature and Elodie would explode outward for one moment before the bricks, wood, and other material simply blinked out of existence as if it never existed in the first place. As Elodie had her emotional field present she’d be able to see a thin, but precise, purple beam aimed towards her, fired from a crystal that was hidden inside the chest cavity of the creature. It exposed the crystal by having its rib cage open wide like a hungry maw. Elodie would also see that the beam seemed to utterly destroy everything in a ten foot radius around it. While it was small, its power was absolutely devastating to objects that did not have an emotional field. The Maw closed as the creature shot out of the ruined building, searching for its prey once more.
When the creature changed priorities from her to Elodie, Destiny immediately dropped the spell as she ducked behind a wall in a separate alleyway. Something was telling her to run, but there was that vague curiosity about what she gleamed from the creature’s mind. Whatever there was… so she used her telepathy spell to reach out yet again - the exertion from all this magic was starting to get to her, but she couldn’t stop. She watched as the beam hit Elodie and from her thoughts - she wasn’t hurt, but there was something horribly wrong about the beam of energy. Then her mind glanced towards the creature… Some mental complaints about “emotional fields”.
Then…
… Orders.
It was sending out commands to others like it to converse on the area to capture the vessel.
Her.
Destiny’s heart began pounding. There were more, and she could barely handle one. Her help could barely handle one. While she wanted to help the cotton-candy-haired woman, she had to prioritize her own survival above all else. While it was distracted, the monster took off running.
The beam hit Elodie, and she was instantly washed over with a sense of dread unlike anything she had ever felt before. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t injure her. But it was… nothing. Pure nothing. Out of reflex, Elodie dove out of the way as the area was being disintegrated. Elodie choked as she forced herself to her feet and shouted, as Red Lux runes floated around her,
”... For the good of mankind!” Elodie shouted before she chanted, ”Vine Lash!” Vines then burst from the ground and wrapped around the doppleganger.
The doppelganger was stopped in its tracks. Any attempt for it to move was quickly resisted by the vine lash and soon the creature stopped entirely from freeing itself. It’s dangling, burnt head suddenly perked up and twisted around with a grinding crunch, deep set eyes lining up with Elodie. A wide grin cut through the cheeks, pouring a steady torrent of blood down towards the ground.
“You’ve stopped me from pursuing my vessel,” It paused as it sensed its fellow remnants closing in at speed. It didn’t need to fight for now, it just needed to delay, “who are you?”
Elodie’s lip curled into a wry grin as she hopped from the rooftop onto a dumpster, then jumped onto the ground level. She slowly walked towards the creature, grabbing onto the Rose Petal that rested at her hip and slowly (and dramatically) unsheathing it. ”... Elodie Baptiste,”
The Rose Petal erupted into flames as she charged the creature, aiming for its core.
”... The last woman you will ever see!”
The creature's grin exploded out the sides of its mouth as all across its body bony protrusions erupted through the skin. The protrusions were human bone but they were shaped like the talons of a hawk. With a quick motion, they sliced through vines and its own flesh alike, freeing itself from its restricted prison but sending even more blood across the street. It did not have enough time to deflect, or escape the strike, but it did have enough time to change the location of its core. As the blade cut deep into where the core was, Elodie would watch as it practically slithered under its skin. First across the chest, through the shoulder, down the arm, until it ultimately forced the pointer finger apart, revealing the tip of the impossible crystal.
It fired its beam again. Yet Elodie preserved and struck the core of the beast with the tip of the Rose Petal. It shattered into dozens of pieces on the ground as Elodie wiped Rose Petal clean with her fingertips. She looked to the left and the right as she sheathed Rose Petal and was surrounded by green Lux runes as she chanted her Corvid Shift spell and transformed into a crow. With a few firm flaps, she was airborne and took to the sky looking for the girl.
She couldn’t have gotten far...
As Destiny ran through the alleyways, she tried to remember her way back to St. Eleanora's. Her best bet would be to mind control another cop to take her back - her mind constantly scanning for the creature’s “reinforcements”-
Before she came to a sudden halt.
She detected them.
Or more accurately.
They detected her.
Up ahead the brick wall of a building exploded outwards as another Doppleganger entered the area. Destiny would be able to sense that this one was much weaker than the one who assaulted her earlier, but she would know it was a threat all the same. It was taller, and thicker than the first one and proportional. Its right hand was like a hammer made out of all the bones in the body, with muscle sinew still keeping a finger or two strapped onto the sides. The rest of the body seemed to be coated in a boney armor with various spikes protruding from its collar bone and kneecaps. Its second arm was as limp as a noodle fresh from the boiling water of a pop and flowed in the wind, sending drops of blood to the ground below. Its face was that of a man, tears flowed from his eyes as soft whispers of pain emanated from his mouth. The neck suddenly spun around, twisted like one would a bottle cap, and winding upwards like a spring. The action revealed a second face, feminine, but smiling with eyes as black as a star less night. It’s head spun again up the spring as it began to charge towards Destiny.
Out of sheer reflex, Destiny grabbed all the bricks that she could with her telekinesis, which began a very severe headache, and chucked it at the creature as she turned and ran the other direction as fast as she could.
The bricks did little to slow down the hulking brute who simply raised the hammer in front of its face. The bricks still did damage to its exposed legs, and it began to leave a bloody trail in its wake. As the last brick impacted, it lowered its hammer and launched two spikes from its shoulders, connected in the middle by a web of muscle sinew and other rope-like bloody structures. The spikes were aimed on both sides of Destiny and were meant to get her caught in the web of the monster.
Ahead of Destiny she would see three men and two women walking towards her, calmly, with impossibly wide grins.
Destiny’s breath came in sharp, ragged bursts. The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears, drowning out the distant city noise. Her hands trembled as she tried to steady her focus, willing the headache behind her eyes to fade. Panic flared. She dove sideways, dodging the spikes - yet not far enough to get free of the spike web. Her telepathy raced, desperately seeking a mind to control, a body to commandeer, anything to get her back to St. Eleanora’s.
She couldn’t give up.
Not yet.
Not here.
“... Ah, child,” The Mother Will walked past the three, seemingly phasing through them with the cheshire grin on her face. “There’s an easy way out of this, you know…”
Destiny ignored her and continue thrashing.
“... Return to the Pit. Return home.”
All the creatures stopped suddenly as they felt the crystal core of their fellow creature shatter. While they knew it would not be down forever, this town had already broken their physical forms more times than any other place since they were created on this planet all those millennia ago. Their heads all remained turned in that direction before they slowly turned back towards Destiny. None of the creatures had a smile on their face. Instead, there was an almost cruel twist downward to the corners of their mouths.
Destiny’s eyes flicked up at the Mother Will, cold and steady despite the pain clawing at her temples. Her voice sharp as a knife…
”... I’m not going back,” Destiny said to the Mother Will. ”That’s no longer my home.”
Seemingly on cue, something strange happened. The air and space around Destiny and the Dopplegangers began to distort. Flux. Shatter. Into dozens of razor-sharp fragments. They floated carelessly in the air… before they stopped, as if they primed themselves. They quickly became a rabid storm of blades that sliced the creatures to pieces. Destiny was confused as she used the last of her strength to try to find a source - there was something but it was quite frankly, nothing like she had ever encountered.
The creatures all raised their hands and arms, twisted their form to enlarge and elongate their limbs to try and block the incoming strikes but it was for not. Their bodies ripped under the assault, sending blood gushing and spraying outward. While they were not killed by the strikes, their annoyance at it hung in the air as they looked around the area for the source. Eventually a singular thought crossed each one’s mind. They had found another vessel, and this one was also perfect for their goals. They began to back away from Destiny and the assault from the unknown assailant.
With one swipe of Destiny’s hand, the net was off of her. Between hurried breaths, she looked around, scanning for any signs of those creatures - more importantly, if they decide to come back. Her head was pounding, this was the first time she’s used her abilities to this extent since she’s left the Pit. Destiny’s little mind was racing, blood dripping down her nose. She paused for a moment, wondering if she had fallen into some sens-
Footsteps approached from behind.
It was that abnormality.
Destiny slowly turned around, activating her Domination spell as a last-ditch effort, but to no avail. By the time her pivot was complete, a tall African-American woman with hair styled into a high puff approached. She was wearing a fitted leather jacket over a white, sleeveless top, black cargo pants, and scuffed combat boots.. Destiny froze. Her mouth opened, then closed. Nothing came out. Every muscle tensed, her mind screaming for a plan, for anything. The woman’s eyes were locked on her, unblinking, unafraid. Destiny’s powers felt heavy in her arms, her fingers trembling on the edge of control. She wanted to run, but her body wouldn't let her. She was seen. Fully. And it terrified her.
The woman calmly walked over to Destiny - whose body was frozen in shock, her mind struggling to process the presence before her. There was something… layered about it, as if one thought, one motion, one glance couldn’t contain all of her at once. When the woman’s hand reached forward, Destiny’s instincts screamed to bite, to recoil - but the touch came, gentle, and wiped the blood from her cheek.
Destiny's eyes darted around, looking the woman up and down.
”I got you,” The woman said with a confident smile. ”We gotta-”
”... Who are you?” Destiny asked, taking a step back, raising her hands.
The woman put a hand on her hip, ”Latoya Strange. I was just… passing though…” Latoya laughed.
Destiny swallowed hard, trying to push the fear down, but it clawed its way back up just as quickly. Her head throbbed as if it might split. Every instinct screamed to run, to vanish, but her legs refused to move. Desperately scanning Latoya despite the act making her headache far worse. There was something… strange.
”I… I don’t understand,” Destiny began.
Latoya’s smile didn’t falter. She leaned just slightly closer, eyes locked onto Destiny like a predator gauging the hesitation of its prey. Destiny’s head spun as if she were catching glimpses of something behind Latoya’s eyes that wasn’t her.
“Stay… away,” Destiny managed, her voice shaking.
Latoya tilted her head, amused, almost curious. Yet she respected Destiny’s space was taking a few steps back. However, the woman raised her hands as she said,
“Hey,” Latoya said softly, keeping her hands raised and open. “I’m not here to hurt you. You’re safe with me - I promise.”
Destiny remained on guard. Destiny’s chest tightened, and she blinked rapidly, trying to process the words—and the warmth behind them. For the first time in what felt like forever, the presence pressing on her mind wasn’t threatening. It was… real. Solid. Human.
“…You really mean that?” Destiny whispered.
Latoya responded with a nod.
“I… I don’t know if I can trust you,” Destiny said, defensive. Her telepathy scanned Latoya for hidden intentions - but her mind was extraordinary and alien, refusing to settle.
Latoya crouched down slightly, lowering herself to Destiny’s eye level without breaking the careful distance.
“I know it’s hard,” she said. “People scare you, situations get messy… I get it. But I’m not here to hurt you. No tricks, no games. Just me.”
Destiny’s hands twitched, her mind still screaming caution = but a small part of her, the part that remembered what safety felt like, relaxed just a fraction.
“Take a breath,” Latoya added, “No rush. No pressure. Just… for a second.”
Destiny’s chest heaved, and for the first time in what felt like hours, her frantic pulse slowed just a fraction. Her fingers, still trembling, hovered near the edge of her magic. The urge to dominate, to control, to protect herself - every instinct - throbbed through her. And yet, Latoya’s presence didn’t feel like a threat. It felt… patient. Almost human.
“... Okay,” Destiny whispered, voice barely audible, more to herself than to Latoya. “...Just... okay, I’ll try.”
Latoya’s smile softened, “That’s all I ask,”
“…Why are you helping me?” Destiny finally asked.
Latoya just shrugged, smile going flat. “... Because I can. Because I’ve been where you are. Because sometimes… someone just needs to know they’re not alone.”
Destiny’s breath hitched. That last part—it resonated.
“You don’t have to trust me all at once,” Latoya said. “Just… let me walk with you a little bit so we can leave this behind.”
Destiny looked down the alley where the creatures had left, scanning one last time - only to pick up a crow perched on the rooftop. It appeared to be a simple bird… but from its thoughts, it was that cotton-candy-haired woman who saved her before. Destiny didn’t know how to say thank you - not that it mattered in the end, as the bird flapped off. For the first time since she’d left the Pit, she allowed herself to lower her hands, if only fractionally. The decision wasn’t full trust - far from it - but it was a start.
Destiny hesitated for a heartbeat. No words came. No promises were made. Then, slowly, deliberately, she took a step forward. Another. And another. Latoya matched her pace without a word, giving her space, letting her set the rhythm.
The alley stretched behind them, dark and empty, but for the first time, Destiny didn’t feel completely alone. Side by side, they walked - Destiny wordless, cautious, but moving.
[center][b]"You're a fine warrior. Call me sentimental..."[/b][/center][table][row][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/139ceac154751673f3ae0a9fe3c9db14/tumblr_n5ns5eDSUE1spjmjdo1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/8de527f156d1dcdab59303529f9a2963/tumblr_n5ns5eDSUE1spjmjdo2_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/fdd81701556b497cef877cce8608411e/tumblr_n5ns5eDSUE1spjmjdo3_r1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][/row][row][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/f4c53df62090bdfc77fc8d4af49bd3bb/tumblr_mp19k0oeBn1spjmjdo1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/tiUPmOX.png[/img][/center][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/973255b1496b1e15ea88881ee0842923/tumblr_n5ns5eDSUE1spjmjdo4_r2_400.gifv[/img][/cell][/row][row][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/92b4cd3f3f69445efc0b66dbf4040d4e/tumblr_mp19k0oeBn1spjmjdo3_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/076f8a0494600005276b223a9c34f4df/tumblr_mp19k0oeBn1spjmjdo4_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/91ef2adb4acfaae1ed6e5882900137f2/tumblr_mp19k0oeBn1spjmjdo2_r1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][/row]
[/table][center][b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oBfsNh4c_E]"...but I wish we'd met under different circumstances."[/url][/b][/center][hr][hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RKmK4q0.png[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/N7tTd5u.png[/img]
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YqDz7oImyY[/youtube]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/hFWozfG.png[/img][hr][hr][img]https://i.imgur.com/1efdG4h.png[/img][/center][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent]Currently updating...[/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][table][row][/row][row][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/f12910313dd47ea9cead1c314f8ab833/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo3_250.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/fe472fa332e424f66ed2837f2eaf23c9/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo4_250.gifv[/img][/cell]
[cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/fb00b50c1dbf289d9140c30a7a332011/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo8_250.gifv[/img][/cell][/row]
[row][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/ec26b8c0fcc1da9903b62bf0022ce62c/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo5_250.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/468eaf4ed38d54774f2d3fd269296f74/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo6_250.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/23bf4bb5ad09c631a81860f2f822ccce/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo7_250.gifv[/img][/cell][/row][center][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/30d05b58ba9137c6662a93a96bfa527a/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo2_400.gifv[/img][hr][/center]
[center][b]"I'm a dominant..."[/b][/center][/table][center][hr][b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v31J3arX5Kg]"... This is my job."[/url][/b]
[img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/e91570ee96f9a973747062884eeea1ce/tumblr_ntbm31BkSa1sznb4xo1_400.gifv[/img][hr][/center][table][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XFCLhxV.png[/img][/center][row][/row][row][cell][center][b][color=forestgreen]REALLY PUNCHY GUYS[/color][/b]
[sup]_______________________________[/sup]
[b][@redbaron1234]
[@Kamen Evie]
[@KaiserElectric]
[@Drag]
[@KremeSupreme]
[@Megsychan]
[@Oddsbod][/b][/center][/cell][cell][center][b][color=forestgreen]THE DISAPPOINTMENT CLUB[/color][/b]
[sup]_______________________________[/sup]
[b][@Spoopy Scary]
[@Junkmail]
[@Maxx]
[@Luminous Beings]
[@Dragonbud][/b][/center][/cell][cell][center][b][color=forestgreen]OTHER SCRUBS[/color][/b]
[sup]_______________________________[/sup]
[b][@Zombiedude101]
[@Lord Wraith]
[@FernStone]
[@Atrophy]
[@Moth]
[@Skai]
[@silvermist1116][/b][/center][/cell][/row][/table][table][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/GXlptHc.png[/img][/center][row][/row][row][cell][center][b][color=forestgreen]SETTINGS[/color][/b]
[sup]_______________________________[/sup]
[b][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/183613-the-tyrant-shell-universe]The Tyrant Shell Universe[/url][/b] - Mechapunk (Mecha and Cyberpunk mixed together).
[b][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/183624-the-black-fall-universe]The Black Fall Universe[/url][/b] - Modern-Superhuman tale.[/center][/cell][cell][center][b][color=forestgreen]LINKS[/color][/b]
[sup]_______________________________[/sup]
[b][url=https://discord.gg/4FznNGS]The Collective[/url][/b] - My Discord Server.
[b][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/183740-the-ghost-lounge-a-1x1-thread-thats-destined-to-go-places-bad-places]The Ghost Lounge[/url][/b] - My 1x1 Thread.
[b][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/183358-the-ghost-archives]The Ghost Archives[/url][/b] - Character storage.[/center][/cell][/row][/table][table][row][/row][row][cell][img]https://steamuserimages-a.akamaihd.net/ugc/928186361494425545/93DB229F54AD7363FF943FAF9627A2056CE6A354/[/img][/cell][cell][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wmKBNmF.png[/img][/center][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/aab171d51ab0877e8cb44ef26725c12f/tumblr_mmijotYZ851spjmjdo1_r1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][/row][row][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/a8b92dee73766c54e1c588067f7b05e9/tumblr_mmijotYZ851spjmjdo2_r1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/c6db94e7f43a0116556b31237e9394cb/tumblr_oetl2fk7YA1r9ibuko1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/d85b9d9f883fcf1e71cad4d1b5c574e2/tumblr_oetl2fk7YA1r9ibuko2_400.gifv[/img][/cell][/row][row][cell][/cell][cell][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/827528918c7f7bf2672681b30b851654/tumblr_otjspp0ccf1u0vn73o1_400.gifv[/img][/cell][cell][img][/img][/cell][/row][/table][center][b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XnvqcSKho5w]"Oh, I'm afraid we have no allies. No allies nor enemies. I love EVERYONE!"[/url][/b][/center][hr]
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