Fallenreaper

Essence of the World: Flesh Reborn [Adv. Roleplay]

@Fallenreaper I suppose that depends on if I find the energy. The time may perhaps be in abundance shortly. A new job has appeared and perhaps it may be what I settle into for the better part of my life.

Also. Stalking me. Really? Typical Fallen. Though I have missed our conversations. If you have made the switch to discord just PM me on here and I am happy to send you my info so you have a more direct means of doing so.

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For when he inevitably reads it: I have missed you too Synth. Though you may think I am lying through my teeth. I did not mean to invade your OOC thread, but I'm glad I did.

@Themerlinhawk

Awesome! I hope it works out for you as I know in the past, your schedule was so unpredictable on hours. Though if it's too steady, you might have issues with finding things to do. :P I have actually, what's your tag name and number? I'll add ya.

Personally, I can't speak for Syn but I'm glad you stopped by and invaded. ^-^

Essence of the World: Flesh Reborn [Adv. Roleplay]

I feel compelled to do something I haven't done in a very long time; post to the Guild. I wish you all the best. With you two I imagine Essence will never die. It warms my heart.

@Themerlinhawk

Hi, Merlin, long time no see. I'm happy I'm apart of something that honestly gave you energy and desire to post on the Guild, I've been checking on you time to time. At least recently. I'm happy to warm your heart. ^-^ Maybe we'll rp again!

Essence of the World: Flesh Reborn [Adv. Roleplay]

Name: Holly Amanda Knight

Age: 24 years

Gender: Female

Race: Human (Soon to become Nephilim or Pure depending on IC)

Sub-Class: Latent Psychic

Description:

Hider

_{I do not claim rights to the artwork, that pleasure and talent go to the artist. This is merely a visual representation of my character. I will take it down if I am informed and proven it’s a commissioned artwork.}

Holly is described as an attractive and tall Caucasian woman, reaching above the average height at five foot and nine inches (175 cm). She often leaves her sandy blonde hair, mixed with shadows and highlights, to hang down past her shoulders. When in the field, she will tend to bundle it up into a ponytail to keep it out of her grey-blue eyes. Over the years in training, her petite figure has put on some muscle definition giving her great cross-country skills to run down criminals. Her aura gives off a confident, serious air that is often confirmed by her personality. For the most part, her skin is absent of any blemishes, tattoos or piercings, but she does have two small identical birthmarks. Their blotchy shapes rest just under her shoulder blades, only darkened recently to be visible.

Being a recently promoted detective, her uniform includes a polo shirt and slacks rather than the standardize uniform of her patrol years. However while on duty she still ensures to include a vest, gun, holster and a spare clip because while her tasks have changed, the danger hasn’t. She is still surrounded by the same criminals and risks as before. When off duty, she prefers practical and casual wear. Often tank tops or tee-shirts with jeans and a belt that adds a tomboy charm to her feminine looks. On the rare occasion, she can be coaxed into a slimming black dress, topped off with the minimal makeup of lipstick, eyeshadow, and liner. She will not do blush or concealer. It just feels weird and weighty on her face. In harsher elements, Holly will wear a short, women’s trench coat which has become well known by her friends and family. She can’t help but love the badass noir feeling she gets when wearing it.

History: Holly will honestly admit she didn’t have an exciting or amazing childhood. Foster and she were both born in the small commuter town named Ambax. Both parents had jobs in Loom, a bustling and sleepless city just a few hours drive away. Grant Knight, her father, was an officer of the city’s police department and involved in what most considered a high-risk job. He came from a long line of police, a few aunts, uncles, and even her grandfather all served in the public. On the other hand, his wife, Esme, worked full time at Grandiose Dawn Hotels on the outskirts. While both made slightly above minimum wage, they made ends meet providing comfort for their two children. Despite the air of comfort surrounding them, Holly couldn’t help but sense the tension between the two. Her mother secretly worried whenever her father went work through she hid it well through fake smiles and soothing words. This was often followed by relief when he returned, safe and sound, at the end of each shift.

The girl never understand how she could sense these things, mostly feeling like a gut instinct. When she got older, it seemed to fade or she simply learned to ignore it.

She couldn’t help but admire her family’s bravery from a young age, her motivations driven by their stories on patrol. When she becomes an adult, Holly learned her father’s often left out the harsh realities and failures the job brought with it. However, she remained grateful to him for his experience. It drove her to want to become a cop in Loom. In the background, she failed to see the apprehension in her mother’s worried eyes whenever she excited spoke about her dreams. This would come to a conflict one day.

When she finished secondary school, Holly applied for Police College immediately and learned it was a difficult process. Over the six months, her application was ‘lost’ at least three times before she went through both mentally and physically stressful tests. Interviews were the worse because while she continued to give straight, conclusive answers the interviewer always asked her to elaborate. It was a mental war to keep her thoughts straight and accurate every time. One thing that could be said about the Knight family, they were stubborn.

A trait she inherited through the generations.

A week after acceptance letter arrived, Holly was smacked by a vision while home alone. Powerful and vivid, Holly watched her father seated in his patrol car going over some paperwork before a stranger approached him. It ran like some muted movie in her head. They seemed familiar with each while they appeared to engage in a conversation. Finally, her father’s expression turned to concern as he stepped out of the car, aiming to follow the stranger. Every fiber of her instinct was screaming for him to get back in when the figure raised a gun at his back. The gun’s bang broke the silence of the scene causing her to scream. It was all over in seconds. Foster burst into the living, her figure already crumbled to the floor and shaking. It took hours for him to call him down before she explained what happened.

Without evidence, he hesitated discarded the vision as a result of stress. Then the phone rang. Holly would never forget the horror on her brother’s expression when he was informed their father had been shot and taken to the hospital in critical condition. Hanging up, he told her to stay put while he retrieved their mother. The day was among the hardest experiences she ever faced in her life. Waiting slightly killing her slowly as she paced the apartment, the worst rushing through her head. The morning after, mother called to inform their father was stable. The bullet ruptured missed anything important but he was on leave until he healed.

Through her father was stuck in a wheelchair for a while, he refused to allow it to get the better of him. He also refused to allow his daughter to postpone her life for him. The same couldn’t be said about her mother. With the shock and near loss of her husband, Esme’s fear had her pleading that Holly reconsidered her career choice. Their fighting became worse when she refused to listen. Gradually, it drove Holly out of the house into Loom where she got an apartment with two old schoolmates. She finally found it harder and harder to stand the talks with her mother altogether. A connection between them severed beyond repair. The next year was challenging, finally accepted into the Police College, as the days passed into a blur. Martial arts training, basic law studying, riots practicing and more pushed her to her limits then back. She would be lying if she didn’t think she was going to fail at some point, but continued to push onward. She was amazed by the end of it all, she managed to survive.

Of course, her family was extremely proud to hear it, especially her brother and father. Through her mother was on ill terms with her, the rest of her immediate family still managed to remain close to her and keep tabs on her progression. Her father even prepared her by warning the most challenging part was still coming. Sadly, Holly fell under the delusion all rookies did which hid the grim truth about her would be the job.

After being placed into Loom’s Police Station, her ideas were quickly crushed under the watchful eye of a Field Training Officer James Harrison. Having served in the department for nearly a decade, he held a serious air about him and done things strictly by the book. The latter trait nearly drove Holly mad over the next four months and two weeks. Most the training was patrolling established routes in well known dangerous parts of the city, writing parking tickets, and handling domestic crimes. The whole time… she had Harrison grumbling over her shoulder about her work.

She was so happy when it came to an end.

The first week officially on Patrol, things seemed normal. She got into a familiar pattern often, sometimes twelve, hours a day for her patrol schedule around Loom. Things were normal until the second week. Suddenly the whole department’s attitude shifted against her. Her superiors kept jerking her shifts from day to night or vice versa with little warning. Sometimes she was forced to work a double shift in the worst areas of Loom or graveyard sectors, where nothing happened. The worst part was the fact she found several male officers refused to work with her over cases. Oddly enough it brought to her attention how few females actually ever made it to this point, sensing they viewed her to be inferior because of her gender. Without another protecting her back, she was often placed on the desk, evidence locker or station duty. At this point she found herself missing the first week and even Harrison’s behavior. Mostly because he didn’t treat her like dirt, just inexperienced.

During her third year, she put an application up for a promotion toward detective. They were sorely lacking officers from what she heard and it had to be better than patrol. The Captain, Dubois, raised his eyebrow in question when she submitted the paperwork for it. She could sense the disdain rolling off him in her direction but managed to hold a neutral expression. Lying through his teeth, he said he would file it then dismissed her. The moment she left, Holly could already sense him shredding it.

Both rattled and concerned, Holly decided to consult her father over her suspicions. This required heading back home for the first time in a few years. The tension building felt like it would explode her insides the moment she walked through the apartment, her eyes spying that almost nothing actually changed. Spending actual free time with her old man, the man retired shortly after his accident, brought nostalgia into her heart. She wasted little time sitting down to inform him about her boss’ behavior and the more recent changes in the department. While he didn’t fully discard her verbal worries, there was little physical proof to back up her suspicions making it impossible to prove it.

Through it hurt, Holly silently agreed.

Disheartened, but determined, she finished the visit with her father before departing. Time seemed to have gotten away from her as on her way out, her mother had returned from shopping and nearly collided with her. The two paused in mid-step, sizing each other up. Tension filled the air enough to suffocate Holly causing her to be the first to move. As she bent down to retrieve the fallen bags, she felt a pair of arms suddenly wrap around her and pull her close. Her mind went numb with surprise. It took her several moments to realize it was her mother. Even longer to hear her crying quietly, whispering familiar words of love. It seemed time does mend broken things, Holly thought in a slightly amused tone.

At the age of twenty-four, she finally got her promotion in the corrupted department. It seemed her family -her father likely- had called in a few favors and gotten attention on her application before it was shredded.

Holly couldn’t say she was completely prepared for how chaotic a detective’s life was, not that she regrets it. She was assigned to an older detective named Lucas Berger. He was the type of detective the average Joe could sit and have a drink with, charm setting a relaxing atmosphere without causing you to fly off the handle and punch his face in. His teaching methods and patience made her feel less alienated compared to the prior experiences in the department. Sadly, she could easily see he got subtle shit time to time about from a few bigots in her department. It was expected in a career dominated by alpha males. Despite their narrow views, Holly’s skills and resistance slowly won the worthwhile ones over.

During her training with Berger, she learned that detective never actually had any days off officially. Especially in Loom, the worst criminal city in Europe. Every night and day, Holly was expected to work on anywhere from five to ten cases at a time. Going through the steps C to Z after the patrol cops finished their rounds. Her social life, not that she had much of one, suffered from it. There were perks about the job that kept her on. The intimidate working with the victims gave her a whole new experienced compared to patrol. Instead of merely handling the reporting of the crime, her job detailed solving, investigating the motivates and ultimately informing the victims about the good or bad news. It enhanced her importance in a way, even increasing her sense of humanity.

On the sixth week, a recent crime caught her attention. A missing person. Its profiling fitted a prior case she experienced in her patrol years causing her to look into it. Of course, it didn’t help her nagging feelings returned with a vengeance. At first, the crimes had little in common until she started to trace the victim’s background. They were both females, in their twenties, and went to the same secondary school. As a patrol officer, she didn’t have access to the victims’ files leaving the connection easily missed. Following her gut, Holly purged deeper finding more cases over the last twenty years.

Placing her detective position on the line, she managed to convince the Captain to allow her to focus on the case. To prove they were all connnected. She suspected he wanted to see her fail. The first day off (still on call), she wound up attacked by… something.

Abilities/Skills:

• Case, Law, and Paperwork Skills: Knows the inside outs of the Law in these three areas and dealt with detailed, lengthy paperwork for her years on the force. It’s ingrained so deeply, it's infiltrated her verbal and social interactions, causing her to instinctively chose her words carefully and with more detail than the average person.
• Firearms Training: Knows how to respect, handle and fire various types of pistols like a PAMAS G1, SIG Sauer Pro SP 2022 series, Beretta, or Glock.
• Computer Skills and Radio Communication: Computers and other technology have become ingrained into the police force’s daily tasks so she is required to know her way around a computer, even some slight hacking ability.
• Body Language, Verbal Reading, and Substance Recognition: Has been taught to read people, through the body, words and even behavior. She can easily tell when someone is hiding something or lying to her face then address it accordingly.
• Advanced Driving Knowledge: Able to chase a suspect through high traffic roads using one of three means of transportation (motorcycle, police car, or bike) without causing casualties. Situations vary, however.
• Searching: Knowledge of how to properly search rooms, vehicles, and suspects for narcotics, weapons or other illegal items.
• Defensive Tactics and Force Escalation: Trained in reading a situation, especially to note when it becomes intense and hostile. Her training gives her an edge in how to protect herself, her fellow officers and possibly de-escalate the situation. This includes martial arts.
• Pain Compliance and Control: Has learned the effect of pain both on herself and others, enabling her to use it to her advantage through lawful means.
• Suspect Restraint: She knows about pressure points, joint locks and pins in order to restrain a suspect enough to cuff them.
• Pressure Thinking and Planning: Has been through intense situations from playing out scenarios to actual in field training, learning how to keep her head when thing go south.
• Multi-Lingual: Knows how to speak in a conversational manner in three languages. Spanish, French, and English. Written, however, she only knows how to read French and English because of her parents.
• Physical Condition: Trained to parkour, her stamina and speed are peaked to be able to allow her to outrun most civilians.

Latent Psychic: Clairvoyance

Holly is able to gain information about an object, person, location or physical event through vivid trances. She might not officially know the individual her trances center upon as they play in her mind like a surreal movie. At first, it started as vision only. Now her mind is able to capture the scents, sounds, and sights from a third person’s point of view. A witness to an event that could be happening in the past, present or future.

Limitations:

-Trances happen at unpredictable times, Holly is unable to control or feel them coming on before they take over her attention. They could be caused by touching an object, sleeping, or during even a simple conversation without warning. She can’t will them to happen when she wants.

-During each ‘vision’ her present sight gives away to the mini-movie playing, making her vulnerable during it. She can’t see or react to any present danger as she’s completely absorbed into the scene and its details. Lately, though, they have become like mini seizures whenever the vivid episodes happen.

-Images aren’t always straight-forward scenes. They might have clues to their locations, time or individuals, but it’s up to Holly to actually figure them out based on what she saw.

-Each vision is short and sometimes incomplete. They last up to a few moments or only have selective images, sounds, or more vague sensations colliding with each other. Even with detective skills, Holly can’t always fully understand their meaning. Sometimes she can’t even tell when it happens, leaving her with little reaction time and sometimes only able to deal with the fallout.

Notable Belongings:

On Person

• Gun and Holster: On duty, SIG Sauer Pro SP 2022 series. Off-duty, Glock 22.
• Protective Vest: 2 spare mags (all filled), taser, flashlight, and radio.
• Badge: Identification as a Cop

In Police Car: blue four-door Renault Sedan, about five or more years old

• Laptop: Police issued for paperwork, research, etc.
• Yellow Evidence Tags
• Pens and Paper Bags
• Double stacked box: keeps the followed inside.
  
  • Box cutter
  • Scalpel
  • Blood test kit
  • Varies Powder for fingerprints
  • Black Gloves (several pairs)
  • Brush for powder
  • Cards for labeling
  • Sexual Assault Kit
  • Spray bottle
  • Q-tips
  • Envelopes Large
  • Scanning Electron Microscopic Kit: Gunshot detection kit basically

Samhain Intrigues

Noah Griffin

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Noah felt paralyzed by the Fox’s gaze. His skin pricked and goosebumped, unsettled by the demon’s golden eyes sizing him up. Like a piece of meat. The lips curled into a wicked grin causing Noah’s stomach to flip in place and whatever meager meal he held, curdling. He didn’t answer when the Fox questioned him. Instead, the human just kept his eyes straight as Vae tried to draw Yin’s attention on herself. It wasn’t really working. That much Noah could easily see for himself while he frantically tried to figure out a way out of this situation.

He want to say something but stopped when Yin’s ears swiveled. They seemed to catch something causing the fae to request a moment. Noah let out a breath of relief when he spotted the Fox lift up and out of the pool, his naked figure disappeared into the corridor. Vae, by this time, seemed to have vanished to find him some towels or clothes likely.

His knees felt wobbly as he struggled to remain upstanding. Slowly, he lowered himself into the deepest part of the water to bath. Despite his gut instinct screaming for him to wash and leave, he needed to decompress from the heart-racing experience. Hopefully, nothing else decided to toy with him until he was done.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Lyn, College courtyard

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Lyn’s eyes drifted from one gargoyle to the next, noting their individual personalities in her head. Their stone expression stared at the far wall without any acknowledgment she passed by. This wasn’t abnormal since they needed to be activated, a hand placed on the carved rune and held there until a warmed. Then the stone creatures would hop off their pedestal before becoming the guides they were designed to. Each had their own unique personality, from grumpy to motherly, but it was difficult to tell at a mere glance. They all looked exactly alike.

Shifting her attention from the unnatural statues, Lyn raised her hands to interlock behind her head. Her skull leaned back into the firm support she made while managing to keep up with her godfather. It didn’t surprise her he acted the way he did and she expected her own father to follow suit, both males too protective in her own opinion.

Upon reaching the kitchens, the warm and alluring scents smacked into her nostrils. Her stomach rumbled in protest for food drawing her into awareness. She hadn’t even realized how hungry she was until now. Gently, she strolled up to the bench nearest the bonfire at the room’s center then parked her ass. Rubbing her shoulders, she let her skin absorb the fire’s heat until the chill was chased away. Casually her eyes shot toward the kitchens to hopefully spot her godfather’s arrival with soup, meat or something else to eat. Instead, she caught several of the cooks scrambling out of the Demonomancer’s path into the dining hall, mumbling disgruntled about their domain being invaded. The sight was certainly amusing enough to cause the young girl to giggle under her breath.

Knowing it was going to take him some time, she glanced around the room. Oddly it was empty. No signs of students or staff, aside from the cooks earlier, were bustling around the tables. Usually, by this time, she estimated a bit past noon, there were a few stragglers still enjoying a leisure meal before earning their keep within the College. Shrugging off the weird feeling, Lyn didn’t have to wait long before Tyrael strolled out of the kitchen and returned to the room. There were two large sandwiches on the tray he juggled, her eyes fixed to the appetizing display and waited until he commented.

“Thank you, Uncle Tyrael.” She eagerly, almost instinctively, took what seemed to be the larger of the two. It easily was held together by the bread, despite the overpacked middle.

“I also have something to give back to you too,” she commented offhandedly before she extended her teeth, then sank them into the sandwich. The filling threatened to spill out all over her front from the size of her bite.

Lidda, Office

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Lidda was silent. Her golden eyes flickered, showing life, as she listened to the student’s laments about the scars ‘history’ and her personal distaste for them. Truthfully the teacher found herself unsurprised by the fact. Alaira reminded her of numerous Eania crusaders in the army. Their pride based solely on hard-earned scars, wounds and various disfigurements they refused to allow to become erased during the healing process. So she understood the concept better than Alaira might’ve been aware and even agreed. These weren’t ‘proud’ scars. Through they were reminders of mistakes never to repeat, lessons learned.

Instead of lecturing or putting forward the bit of insight, Lidda continued to listen. Her forearms crisscrossed over the desk surface. They cushioned where her torso leaned in as she continued to listen, her expression indifferent much like the sphinx's cat counterpart. The only signs of life were the flickering eyes that shifted on occasion to blink.

When Alaira finished, the teacher became blunt but honest.

“No, it’s not. However, it doesn’t mean I can’t relate or understand it. Crusaders in the Eania army, the elite soldiers, were often sent out across the land into dangerous territory and found their scars to be badges of pride. Of life victories and lessons to learn from even,” Lidda stated before she rose upright, “Sometimes we’re own worst critics because we feel unsuited for praise or anything positive. It’s how things are sometimes, but in the end, only you can influence changes you make to your life. Especially those most meaningful and will stick.”

Casually Lidda slipped down from her chair then gestured for Alaira’s hand again, focusing on reshaping the skin into something more natural. Being half snow-elf and half orc herself, it gave her an interesting insight into the blending of two races.

“I don’t think that’s needed. Most of the novices only know cosmetic changes so you injuring yourself is only going to get Samuel on my case. Besides, we tend to use wild animals for healing practice, assisted by the psychomancy class. The cosmetic effect wears off after an hour and at worse, you’ll either look elegant or colorful for the time,” Lidda hoped that put the student at some ease at least.

Essence of the World: Flesh Reborn [Adv. Roleplay]

Name: Holly Amanda Knight

Age: 24 years

Gender: Female

Race: Human (Soon to become Nephilim or Pure depending on IC)

Sub-Class: Latent Psychic

Description:

Hider

_{I do not claim rights to the artwork, that pleasure and talent go to the artist. This is merely a visual representation of my character. I will take it down if I am informed and proven it’s a commissioned artwork.}

Holly is described as an attractive and tall Caucasian woman, reaching above the average height at five foot and nine inches (175 cm). She often leaves her sandy blonde hair, mixed with shadows and highlights, to hang down past her shoulders. When in the field, she will tend to bundle it up into a ponytail to keep it out of her grey-blue eyes. Over the years in training, her petite figure has put on some muscle definition giving her great cross-country skills to run down criminals. Her aura gives off a confident, serious air that is often confirmed by her personality. For the most part, her skin is absent of any blemishes, tattoos or piercings, but she does have two small identical birthmarks. Their blotchy shapes rest just under her shoulder blades, only darkened recently to be visible.

Being a recently promoted detective, her uniform includes a polo shirt and slacks rather than the standardize uniform of her patrol years. However while on duty she still ensures to include a vest, gun, holster and a spare clip because while her tasks have changed, the danger hasn’t. She is still surrounded by the same criminals and risks as before. When off duty, she prefers practical and casual wear. Often tank tops or tee-shirts with jeans and a belt that adds a tomboy charm to her feminine looks. On the rare occasion, she can be coaxed into a slimming black dress, topped off with the minimal makeup of lipstick, eyeshadow, and liner. She will not do blush or concealer. It just feels weird and weighty on her face. In harsher elements, Holly will wear a short, women’s trench coat which has become well known by her friends and family. She can’t help but love the badass noir feeling she gets when wearing it.

History: Holly will honestly admit she didn’t have an exciting or amazing childhood. Foster and she were both born in the small commuter town named Ambax. Both parents had jobs in Loom, a bustling and sleepless city just a few hours drive away. Grant Knight, her father, was an officer of the city’s police department and involved in what most considered a high-risk job. He came from a long line of police, a few aunts, uncles, and even her grandfather all served in the public. On the other hand, his wife, Esme, worked full time at Grandiose Dawn Hotels on the outskirts. While both made slightly above minimum wage, they made ends meet providing comfort for their two children. Despite the air of comfort surrounding them, Holly couldn’t help but sense the tension between the two. Her mother secretly worried whenever her father went work through she hid it well through fake smiles and soothing words. This was often followed by relief when he returned, safe and sound, at the end of each shift.

The girl never understand how she could sense these things, mostly feeling like a gut instinct. When she got older, it seemed to fade or she simply learned to ignore it.

She couldn’t help but admire her family’s bravery from a young age, her motivations driven by their stories on patrol. When she becomes an adult, Holly learned her father’s often left out the harsh realities and failures the job brought with it. However, she remained grateful to him for his experience. It drove her to want to become a cop in Loom. In the background, she failed to see the apprehension in her mother’s worried eyes whenever she excited spoke about her dreams. This would come to a conflict one day.

When she finished secondary school, Holly applied for Police College immediately and learned it was a difficult process. Over the six months, her application was ‘lost’ at least three times before she went through both mentally and physically stressful tests. Interviews were the worse because while she continued to give straight, conclusive answers the interviewer always asked her to elaborate. It was a mental war to keep her thoughts straight and accurate every time. One thing that could be said about the Knight family, they were stubborn.

A trait she inherited through the generations.

A week after acceptance letter arrived, Holly was smacked by a vision while home alone. Powerful and vivid, Holly watched her father seated in his patrol car going over some paperwork before a stranger approached him. It ran like some muted movie in her head. They seemed familiar with each while they appeared to engage in a conversation. Finally, her father’s expression turned to concern as he stepped out of the car, aiming to follow the stranger. Every fiber of her instinct was screaming for him to get back in when the figure raised a gun at his back. The gun’s bang broke the silence of the scene causing her to scream. It was all over in seconds. Foster burst into the living, her figure already crumbled to the floor and shaking. It took hours for him to call him down before she explained what happened.

Without evidence, he hesitated discarded the vision as a result of stress. Then the phone rang. Holly would never forget the horror on her brother’s expression when he was informed their father had been shot and taken to the hospital in critical condition. Hanging up, he told her to stay put while he retrieved their mother. The day was among the hardest experiences she ever faced in her life. Waiting slightly killing her slowly as she paced the apartment, the worst rushing through her head. The morning after, mother called to inform their father was stable. The bullet ruptured missed anything important but he was on leave until he healed.

Through her father was stuck in a wheelchair for a while, he refused to allow it to get the better of him. He also refused to allow his daughter to postpone her life for him. The same couldn’t be said about her mother. With the shock and near loss of her husband, Esme’s fear had her pleading that Holly reconsidered her career choice. Their fighting became worse when she refused to listen. Gradually, it drove Holly out of the house into Loom where she got an apartment with two old schoolmates. She finally found it harder and harder to stand the talks with her mother altogether. A connection between them severed beyond repair. The next year was challenging, finally accepted into the Police College, as the days passed into a blur. Martial arts training, basic law studying, riots practicing and more pushed her to her limits then back. She would be lying if she didn’t think she was going to fail at some point, but continued to push onward. She was amazed by the end of it all, she managed to survive.

Of course, her family was extremely proud to hear it, especially her brother and father. Through her mother was on ill terms with her, the rest of her immediate family still managed to remain close to her and keep tabs on her progression. Her father even prepared her by warning the most challenging part was still coming. Sadly, Holly fell under the delusion all rookies did which hid the grim truth about her would be the job.

After being placed into Loom’s Police Station, her ideas were quickly crushed under the watchful eye of a Field Training Officer James Harrison. Having served in the department for nearly a decade, he held a serious air about him and done things strictly by the book. The latter trait nearly drove Holly mad over the next four months and two weeks. Most the training was patrolling established routes in well known dangerous parts of the city, writing parking tickets, and handling domestic crimes. The whole time… she had Harrison grumbling over her shoulder about her work.

She was so happy when it came to an end.

The first week officially on Patrol, things seemed normal. She got into a familiar pattern often, sometimes twelve, hours a day for her patrol schedule around Loom. Things were normal until the second week. Suddenly the whole department’s attitude shifted against her. Her superiors kept jerking her shifts from day to night or vice versa with little warning. Sometimes she was forced to work a double shift in the worst areas of Loom or graveyard sectors, where nothing happened. The worst part was the fact she found several male officers refused to work with her over cases. Oddly enough it brought to her attention how few females actually ever made it to this point, sensing they viewed her to be inferior because of her gender. Without another protecting her back, she was often placed on the desk, evidence locker or station duty. At this point she found herself missing the first week and even Harrison’s behavior. Mostly because he didn’t treat her like dirt, just inexperienced.

During her third year, she put an application up for a promotion toward detective. They were sorely lacking officers from what she heard and it had to be better than patrol. The Captain, Dubois, raised his eyebrow in question when she submitted the paperwork for it. She could sense the disdain rolling off him in her direction but managed to hold a neutral expression. Lying through his teeth, he said he would file it then dismissed her. The moment she left, Holly could already sense him shredding it.

Both rattled and concerned, Holly decided to consult her father over her suspicions. This required heading back home for the first time in a few years. The tension building felt like it would explode her insides the moment she walked through the apartment, her eyes spying that almost nothing actually changed. Spending actual free time with her old man, the man retired shortly after his accident, brought nostalgia into her heart. She wasted little time sitting down to inform him about her boss’ behavior and the more recent changes in the department. While he didn’t fully discard her verbal worries, there was little physical proof to back up her suspicions making it impossible to prove it.

Through it hurt, Holly silently agreed.

Disheartened, but determined, she finished the visit with her father before departing. Time seemed to have gotten away from her as on her way out, her mother had returned from shopping and nearly collided with her. The two paused in mid-step, sizing each other up. Tension filled the air enough to suffocate Holly causing her to be the first to move. As she bent down to retrieve the fallen bags, she felt a pair of arms suddenly wrap around her and pull her close. Her mind went numb with surprise. It took her several moments to realize it was her mother. Even longer to hear her crying quietly, whispering familiar words of love. It seemed time does mend broken things, Holly thought in a slightly amused tone.

At the age of twenty-four, she finally got her promotion in the corrupted department. It seemed her family -her father likely- had called in a few favors and gotten attention on her application before it was shredded.

Holly couldn’t say she was completely prepared for how chaotic a detective’s life was, not that she regrets it. She was assigned to an older detective named Lucas Berger. He was the type of detective the average Joe could sit and have a drink with, charm setting a relaxing atmosphere without causing you to fly off the handle and punch his face in. His teaching methods and patience made her feel less alienated compared to the prior experiences in the department. Sadly, she could easily see he got subtle shit time to time about from a few bigots in her department. It was expected in a career dominated by alpha males. Despite their narrow views, Holly’s skills and resistance slowly won the worthwhile ones over.

During her training with Berger, she learned that detective never actually had any days off officially. Especially in Loom, the worst criminal city in Europe. Every night and day, Holly was expected to work on anywhere from five to ten cases at a time. Going through the steps C to Z after the patrol cops finished their rounds. Her social life, not that she had much of one, suffered from it. There were perks about the job that kept her on. The intimidate working with the victims gave her a whole new experienced compared to patrol. Instead of merely handling the reporting of the crime, her job detailed solving, investigating the motivates and ultimately informing the victims about the good or bad news. It enhanced her importance in a way, even increasing her sense of humanity.

On the sixth week, a recent crime caught her attention. A missing person. Its profiling fitted a prior case she experienced in her patrol years causing her to look into it. Of course, it didn’t help her nagging feelings returned with a vengeance. At first, the crimes had little in common until she started to trace the victim’s background. They were both females, in their twenties, and went to the same secondary school. As a patrol officer, she didn’t have access to the victims’ files leaving the connection easily missed. Following her gut, Holly purged deeper finding more cases over the last twenty years.

Placing her detective position on the line, she managed to convince the Captain to allow her to focus on the case. To prove they were all connnected. She suspected he wanted to see her fail. The first day off (still on call), she wound up attacked by… something.

Abilities/Skills:

• Case, Law, and Paperwork Skills: Knows the inside outs of the Law in these three areas and dealt with detailed, lengthy paperwork for her years on the force. It’s ingrained so deeply, it's infiltrated her verbal and social interactions, causing her to instinctively chose her words carefully and with more detail than the average person.
• Firearms Training: Knows how to respect, handle and fire various types of pistols like a PAMAS G1, SIG Sauer Pro SP 2022 series, Beretta, or Glock.
• Computer Skills and Radio Communication: Computers and other technology have become ingrained into the police force’s daily tasks so she is required to know her way around a computer, even some slight hacking ability.
• Body Language, Verbal Reading, and Substance Recognition: Has been taught to read people, through the body, words and even behavior. She can easily tell when someone is hiding something or lying to her face then address it accordingly.
• Advanced Driving Knowledge: Able to chase a suspect through high traffic roads using one of three means of transportation (motorcycle, police car, or bike) without causing casualties. Situations vary, however.
• Searching: Knowledge of how to properly search rooms, vehicles, and suspects for narcotics, weapons or other illegal items.
• Defensive Tactics and Force Escalation: Trained in reading a situation, especially to note when it becomes intense and hostile. Her training gives her an edge in how to protect herself, her fellow officers and possibly de-escalate the situation. This includes martial arts.
• Pain Compliance and Control: Has learned the effect of pain both on herself and others, enabling her to use it to her advantage through lawful means.
• Suspect Restraint: She knows about pressure points, joint locks and pins in order to restrain a suspect enough to cuff them.
• Pressure Thinking and Planning: Has been through intense situations from playing out scenarios to actual in field training, learning how to keep her head when thing go south.
• Multi-Lingual: Knows how to speak in a conversational manner in three languages. Spanish, French, and English. Written, however, she only knows how to read French and English because of her parents.
• Physical Condition: Trained to parkour, her stamina and speed are peaked to be able to allow her to outrun most civilians.

Latent Psychic: Clairvoyance

Holly is able to gain information about an object, person, location or physical event through vivid trances. She might not officially know the individual her trances center upon as they play in her mind like a surreal movie. At first, it started as vision only. Now her mind is able to capture the scents, sounds, and sights from a third person’s point of view. A witness to an event that could be happening in the past, present or future.

Limitations:

-Trances happen at unpredictable times, Holly is unable to control or feel them coming on before they take over her attention. They could be caused by touching an object, sleeping, or during even a simple conversation without warning. She can’t will them to happen when she wants.

-During each ‘vision’ her present sight gives away to the mini-movie playing, making her vulnerable during it. She can’t see or react to any present danger as she’s completely absorbed into the scene and its details. Lately, though, they have become like mini seizures whenever the vivid episodes happen.

-Images aren’t always straight-forward scenes. They might have clues to their locations, time or individuals, but it’s up to Holly to actually figure them out based on what she saw.

-Each vision is short and sometimes incomplete. They last up to a few moments or only have selective images, sounds, or more vague sensations colliding with each other. Even with detective skills, Holly can’t always fully understand their meaning. Sometimes she can’t even tell when it happens, leaving her with little reaction time and sometimes only able to deal with the fallout.

Notable Belongings:

On Person

• Gun and Holster: On duty, SIG Sauer Pro SP 2022 series. Off-duty, Glock 22.
• Protective Vest: 2 spare mags (all filled), taser, flashlight, and radio.
• Badge: Identification as a Cop

In Police Car: blue four-door Renault Sedan, about five or more years old

• Laptop: Police issued for paperwork, research, etc.
• Yellow Evidence Tags
• Pens and Paper Bags
• Double stacked box: keeps the followed inside.
  
  • Box cutter
  • Scalpel
  • Blood test kit
  • Varies Powder for fingerprints
  • Black Gloves (several pairs)
  • Brush for powder
  • Cards for labeling
  • Sexual Assault Kit
  • Spray bottle
  • Q-tips
  • Envelopes Large
  • Scanning Electron Microscopic Kit: Gunshot detection kit basically

Mass Effect Andromeda: Frontier

~|Ryria T’Vessi|~

When plans were finalized, Ryria made her up to the roof. Her legs snapped out with purpose and determination to climb each step fluidly. Her hand reached for her rifle, pulling it free and checking its specs. Her hands flew to make minor adjustments until it felt comfortable in her hand. Upon reaching the roof, her eyes took in the setting she had to work with. It held little cover save for the sightly risen walls where she could crouch then carefully take aim at her targets.

She set herself up comfortable on a point where the walls merged, her barrel pointed in to the directions most likely the team would come from. However on a moment’s notice she could easily shift to any of the other four walls should things change. It risked her safety, but it would take a keen sharp-shooter to manage it.

Patiently, the asari laid upon her stomach before staring into the distance for the first signs of movement.

Samhain Intrigues

I'm very sorry to Panther, Fallen, and everyone else but I must remove myself from this rp. I've been thinking about quitting for a while due to going through certain things in real life. With my grandfather being ill, with the long wait for his parkson to become much worse, along with personality clashes with others I feel better if I remove myself. I've had a great time being in this rp and was able to gain help improving my writing skills. Thank you all for this amazing experience.

@Demonic Angel

Understandable and no hard feelings here. ^-^

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

Freya
Ben

Location: Smithy's drug and grocery store, Las Vegas
Time: Evening

---

From triumph to despair.

An anguished cry of grief and rage escaped Katarina’s lips as she saw Ben collapse from his multiple bullet wounds. She could practically smell the silver in the air, vaporising from the spilled blood of the werewolf as his vitae gushed from the fresh injuries the Hounds had inflicted upon him. Katarina could see them advancing slowly, cautiously… a tactic that would be their undoing - caution in the face of overwhelming force would only lead to total annihilation. Not that the overwhelming force had reached them yet, but Katarina cared little for the mortal obstacles that barred her path to her paramour. She instinctively knew her magic would be too slow to react in time - she lacked an appropriate missile attack that would stun or kill his assailants immediately… but then she had an idea. In less than a second, Katarina took hold in one hand, one of the assault rifles of the fallen Hounds that had met such a terrible, gruesome end, and in the other, tore the armoured vest - and webbing attached - from the Hound that she had *not* torn in half. Following that, Kat, with full force, shoulder-barged her way through the aisles that blocked her path to those hateful fiends, with not even the screeching of twisted metal and crashing of goods as they fell from their shelving masking her bestial roar that accompanied her charge against the Hounds. Far too late did they anticipate such a charge, and before they were able to raise their weapons against this new threat, Katarina was on them. She aimed her charge to knock the first into the latter two to stun them and give her an extra few vital seconds with which to wreak her bloody havoc.

Her charge utterly stunned the trio of Hounds that had approached Ben. The first was thrown towards his comrades, a flailing mass of limbs that knocked the others to the floor, their rifles tumbling from their grips. Katarina was closest to the second, and leapt upon him, her fingers like talons, grasping at her prey. The Hound’s body armour was of little defence as Katarina straddled the Hound’s chest, easily batting away his feeble attempts to defend himself. She wrenched the Hound’s head to the side, and sank her fangs into her prize - his exposed neck. She drank deeply, her body flushing with new energy - and knowledge. The rifle in her hand. An M16A2 assault rifle, firing 5.56 NATO. Old US Army stock, but no less effective. The vest would stop much of the kinetic energy - Level III body armour. Good enough to stop most ammunition types in use in the modern day. She could use that information later… Before the others could react, Katarina swung her rifle up and pulled the trigger twice. The staccato bark of the M16A2 shattered the air, Kat’s ears ringing from the din. Her shots found their marks, with almost inhuman accuracy - truly, she had drunk deeply from her prey! The shots she had fired both penetrated the helmet of the Hound that she had not charged - there was no surviving that. The third and final Hound had by now been able to regain his senses somewhat and attempted to lunge for his gun - to no avail. Katarina pulled the trigger twice more. ‘Double tap.’ something in her head said to her as she did so. The technique she had drained from the Hound she had fed upon - the shots impacted the Hound once again twice in the head, penetrating the helmet and no doubt killing the man inside.

Ben ignored the violence that the vampire was enacting upon their attackers, quickly moving to where the werewolf was laying. He didn’t know why things were suddenly on the defensive, nor did he particularly care. He was immune to whatever the bullets were that had made the golem hurt and was shattering through whatever magic the witches had. The bullets that had hit him, after dealing with those men with the riot foam, had only shattered on his now nigh impenetrable skin. He would have to come back here and grab the ammunition and those strange necklaces the men wore. It seemed to protect against the magical attacks of the Fey, and perhaps would do so with the magic of the witches.

Picking up the werewolf, he sprinted towards where Freya was taking cover. The remaining riot foamers were either dead or to far away to stop him, and his body was immune to whatever fire that could be sent against him by the others. He could afford to be reckless. His sister smiled at him as he dropped the golden werewolf nearby. ”See? That wasn’t so hard. Now see if you can’t get whatever their firing and wearing, and then help the witches. They appear to be struggling.”

Ben rolled his eyes in response, looking at the softly growling werewolf. ”Try to bite my sister, and I’ll throw you back out there.”

Benjamin just growled then snorted. As his head laid down, his attention focused on breathing and moving. His adrenaline had died shortly causing the numbness to vanish, every wound burning past the surface. Each time he tried to rise, his
weight brought him back down and more blood oozed from the holes in his flesh.

The next attempt left him weaker than the last one.

Freya shooed her brother. ”Go. I can handle him.” Ben shrugged reluctantly, leaping through the smoke and illusions again. With her brother off on his task, Freya turned back towards the werewolf. ”Hey, easy there. You’re hurt and struggling is only making it worse.” She spoke gently, soothingly, moving carefully closer to the werewolf. ”You need to give yourself time to rest. None of it looks lethal, though I admittedly know nothing about werewolf physiology, so all you need is time to use your considerably powerful healing ability to recover. If you don’t you’re just going to lay there hurt even longer, and no one wants that now, do they? Just be patient for a bit, and then we can start seeing about you walking around yeah? Can’t help anyone if you bleed out on the floor.”

At Freya’s touch, Benjamin shuddered. His blood coated her fingers nearest the wounds causing him to whimper in pain, his sound more akin to a scared domestic canine than a proud wolf. Gradually his body managed to still,some of his side pressed upon her knees, as his peripheral vision caught sight of her.

A deep, injured voice echoed in her head. A sense of youth and strength mingled with worry and instinctive need. A need to protect his pack, his family.

‘Can't heal or move. Something’s wrong. Pack needs to survive. Pack is life.’

”Well that’s great, but if you die because you won’t give yourself time, then the pack isn’t going to survive either. So I suggest you stop thrashing.”

Benjamin started to ease his struggles. His body fell back to the ground and settled down, the pack’s survival enough to make him listen.

Katarina, meanwhile, had been focusing on the rest of the thugs that were attacking them. She was able to make out several dark shadows through the insipid smoke clouds that hung around the area, remnants from the smoke grenades that had been the hallmark of the beginning of the attack. She raised her weapon to open fire, but hesitated. She didn’t know who they were or whether they were friendly - they could have been the witch, or the Frenchwoman, for all she knew. This moment of uncertainty cost her dearly - whilst she was attempting to identify one of the figures, another raised their weapon and fired two shots. The first missed, ricocheting off a nearby metal aisle and generating a veritable shower of silver fragmentation that bounced around all over the place, several striking Katarina and burning holes through the leather jacket she was wearing, burrowing into her flesh. The second struck her in the left thigh dead-on. She screamed in agony and dropped to one knee as the blessed silver burned and charred her unholy flesh, a torrent of blood erupting from the wound and staining her jeans as it did so. She was now also aware of searing pains in her face, as rivulets of blood dripped down her neck and into the lining of her jacket. Had she been shot in the face? Surely not... Even as the silver tried to do its work, Katarina’s undead constitution rejected such a metal, ejecting it with some black sorcerous force, such that the silvered tip fell to the floor, smoking as it reacted with the remains of Katarina’s blood. Gritting her teeth, Kat returned fire, striking the Hound twice in the chest, dropping him to the ground. She knew that his armour had likely taken the brunt of the round impacts, but it was the best she could have done given her situation.

She looked over at Freya, and her stricken love, Ben. Immediately, all thoughts of retreat, or withdrawal, or anything other than heated anger were erased from Kat’s mind. They had hurt him, no, crippled him, and she was going to kill every last one of the bastards who had done so. [i][color=921111]Fight for him, Kat. If nobody else, fight for him.[/i][/color] She gave another roar of rage as she got back to her feet, ignoring the searing, stabbing pain in her thigh as she did so. At the same time, she strapped on the armoured vest she had been carrying. It wouldn’t protect her from much, but it would do the trick - the ammunition was more important. Kat switched over her M16A2 to fully automatic fire - single shots wouldn’t be sufficient in such close quarters. She spotted another figure in the mists and smoke, and instinctively pulled the trigger, a burst of fire spraying across the figure, complete with individual clouds of blood droplets. The figure crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. [i][color=921111]Scheisse, that was a civilian! Ach, well, collateral damage. Acceptable casualties.[/i][/color] She looked back over towards Freya and Ben, and shouted over to them. ”Get him to safety! I’ll hold these untermenschen off as long as I can!” She noticed the Frenchwoman opening a portal off to the side - an escape route! Pointing to it, Kat nodded to Freya. “Over there! Go!”

Ben reappeared, carrying a few clips and two necklaces from their, now dead, assailants. He was even bloodier and his clothing had even more bullet holes in them. ”This was all I was able to get. The witches are making a portal to bail, and we’re leaving with them.” He handed his sister the stolen loot, and picked up the werewolf. ”Come on, kid. Lets go and see if those witches can’t fix whatever’s wrong with you.”

Freya herself was busily putting up the clips and the necklaces, standing to follow her brother. ”The vampire is gonna cover our retreat, so I suggest we start leaving now.” Her brother reached over, and pulled her to his side. ”Stay right here while we move. I don’t want you getting shot.” She rolled her eyes, but obeyed, moving with him as Ben slowly made his way over to the portal.

Katarina kept glancing over at the Dovers, and the stricken Ben, as she watched for any targets that showed themselves. A tactical withdrawal was in order - the Hounds had evidently retreated somewhat after the golem had enacted its own rampage against them in defence of the witches, and possibly as a result of their own rising casualties. Perhaps Katarina’s usage of their own weaponry against them had also played a role - maybe they weren’t used to vampires with assault rifles? She made this a mental note for the future; always carry a gun of some kind when out and about on the streets of modern America, for you never knew who was opposed to metas and who wasn’t. Thirst simply wouldn’t cut it (no pun intended) in the modern world as a weapon - she needed a gun. Perhaps she’d simply take this one. Out of the corner of her eyes as she limped towards the portal, she spotted a Hound struggling to his feet, clearly in pain. The same man that she had shot earlier and whose body armour had evidently taken most of the impact. Wouldn’t make that mistake again. She raised her rifle and pulled the trigger twice, the now-familiar bark of the M16 ringing in her ears as the gun let loose. She struck the Hound in the head, a cloud of red and odd pink chunks flying into the air, but she was unable to admire her results for long, for she came under a hail of gunfire in return, though much of it was inaccurate. Yet the old adage rang true once more - sling enough shit at a wall and some of it will stick. Kat saw the shot too late, and tried to throw herself out of the way, but her reflexes, as fast as they were, were insufficient to dodge a bullet travelling faster than the speed of sound. It impacted along her left side, the silver metal tearing open another gash in her skin as it tore across the surface. The pain from her wounds was almost unbearable, the smell of her own blood filling her nose and fogging her mind.

She dragged herself back to her feet and over to Ben’s clothes - rifling through his jeans, Kat saw several possessions that seemed important - a small card bearing his likeness, his ‘phone’ which she had seen him using earlier, and his wallet, which no doubt was very important to him. She stole a glance over at the portal, and then back to the Hounds’ direction. She reloaded, her movements slowing from the silver affecting her bloodstream, and her perception slowly dulling - the thick white smoke clouds were persistent to say the least. My god… hurry up… I can’t keep going much longer… Not that she would admit it in front of Ben. He was all that mattered to her… and until he was safe, she would fight. She didn’t really know why, but… she didn’t care.

Ben finally reached the portal, throwing the injured werewolf through without a second’s hesitation. Freya turned back to the vampire and shouted, ”Vampire! We’re leaving!” Then jumped through herself, Ben followed suit. He personally wouldn’t have even bothered warning the woman, but that’s why Freya was the one who handled diplomacy.

Finally! It was time to beat a hasty retreat. Katarina dragged herself back to her feet and looked over to the portal, just in time to see the larger of the Dover twins throw - yes, throw - Ben through the portal’s gate. Kat seethed with rage - how dare this whelp, this animal, treat her injured love in such a derisive and uncaring manner?! He was critically wounded, and this brute simply saw fit to throw him about like a doll?! No matter. That would wait for later. Kat limped as fast as she could over to the portal’s entrance, and with a last burst of gunfire, she dove through, just as a return fusillade peppered her last location...

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

@Fallenreaper

A bit of both. A friend of mine asked me to join and I was just wondering if you guys wouldn’t mind letting me in. I’m guessing since the OoC isn’t too active, you have a discord group?

@Norschtalen

The rp is always open for new players and yes, we have a discord group. I'll pm you the link here shortly. I don't know if it's in the OP, and I haven't really cleaned that up.