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I'd be down! This honestly sounds so much fun.

Lucasta found herself in a blackened void surrounded by a pit of nothingness. The sound alone was horrifying because there was no sound. The silence was a terrible weapon, but great at instilling fear. The woman's feet were planted as she found herself paralyzed in place. Unable to see anything, as if she had been placed in a coffin and buried alive, but this was no coffin. She could feel the open space, but she was simply unable to reach it. This was the absence of everything, devoid of all life. A reoccurring dream Lucasta had frequently if a dream is truly what you wish to call it.

Out of nowhere blue threads began to spin themselves into existence, like thin streams of water swirling every which way, a bright and glowing contrast in the dark room. From the distaff of Lucasta's imagination, the threads formed a feminine figure with no discernable face or features. Lucasta attempted to move her feet, to take some sort of fighting stance, but she was glued to the floor. Whether that be her mind playing tricks on her or a literal trap she stumbled upon, she had yet to find out.

The sewn-to-life creation glided forward, levitating just above the concrete sea of black. Etching closer and closer, Lucasta eventually gave up her struggle, those threaded hands caressing her cheek, the creature's featureless face staring right at her, with it's blue body in the strangest of poses.

"Do not mess today up, girl. This.... is your destiny." And with those words, it planted a kiss on her forehead and that was that. Lucasta went to ask a question, she had worked up the courage to speak, managed to gain some semblance of strength but the cloud of dreams vanished and Lucasta awoke on a train, but not for natural reasons...

"Uhh, are you okay lady?" He looked like a teenager, poking and prodding the sleeping young woman as she appeared to be going through some sort of mental dilemma. A horrifying and confusing nightmare to be exact. Needless to say she had interrupted a passenger or two. "Why would you wake me up!?! I was just about to get some answers!?! Who the hell even ARE YOUUUUU!?!"

With that fit of outrage, the teenager just slid down to a farther away seat grimacing as he went. Maybe messing with crazy wasn't a good idea. "At least destiny has been kind to be so far. What would make today any different?" Lucasta shrugged, something of a fatalist, there was no need in worrying over something she couldn't change. If you couldn't guess, she was also something of a hypocrite.

Shortly after her rude awakening, the train came to a screeching halt. She was somehow saddened that she had missed all the sights on her way there. The city in all its glory wasn't something she could see very often. The 2nd Pillar. A few weeks ago this would have been so far out of reach, but something changed. The strings of fate had pulled her along like a puppet, leading her out of the frying pan but into a whole new fire. Life as an agent. Perhaps that is what the dream meant, but Lucasta knew it was so much more.

Eventually arriving at the building, she stood outside for a second. Ensuring her pointy witch's hat was on and pointed at the best angle it could be before taking a long, deep breath. Beginning to think of everything that had happened in order for her to land right here. Right now. "Go in already, we're gonna be late." Lucasta tensed up. "I was trying to have a moment...." Yes, she was arguing with a voice inside her head. Yes, stares from strangers came with that territory.

"You can only have one first impression, remember what we told you?" The voice was stoic and feminine, commanding even. "Yeah yeah yeah, don't mess this up. I know! I know! Chill out." This argument went on for several minutes, eventually becoming very heated before of course, that voice won! It always did. The sound of her high heels hitting the concrete could be heard as she made her way up the steps and into the rather extravagant building. Luckily she had been given a clear set of directions, alongside clearance, so finding the right elevator was pretty straightforward.

Seeing the multi-eyed girl at reception, Lucasta knew she was in the right place. Well, that and the several other people who had arrived for the very same thing. This was a new task force after all, not a solo project. The people she was looking at... well they would be her team. Pulling the brim of her hat downward, as if to cast a dramatic shadow on her face before crossing her arms, Lucasta felt no need to announce her arrival. They had her file, they knew exactly who she was. As for getting to know the others, that would come later.
The mantis boy reminded her of something or someone Godzilla may fight, but seeing a tentacle from the corner of her eye quickly made Aori realize the irony of that comparison, or perhaps the hypocrisy. They both had mutant quirks! That was exciting. He approached her in such a nonchalant way it was shocking, clearly, he was a man of confidence! Or at least that is what Aori accessed. As he extended his hand she could only blink and then of course his hand went to her shoulder...

"Human contact...." She shivered, her eyes widening. And just like that, he ran away? What a masterful escape... the tentacles upon her head seemed to dance in frustration, whipping about through the air before slithering across her face in dread. He ran so fast... they couldn't catch him! Not that they really tried to. It wasn't a good idea to use her quirk like that on the first day, but, this was a boy! That one touch told her everything she needed to know. Her eyes were still shut as she pictured it.

Walking down the aisle, bouquet in hand, her beautiful white dress, that mantis boy who didn't even tell her his name. That's alright, she didn't need it. This daydream was interrupted by a girl's voice, Nadeko she called herself. Snapping back into reality, she was almost embarrassed. "Aori is excited yes, it is nice to meet you Nadeko..." That Nadeko girl moved fast, especially for a girl with no hands! Aori couldn't even finish her sentence. Well, not to the girls face; leaving her in the middle of the hallway talking to literally nobody but herself. Weird for others, normal for Aori.

"Aori just wanted to know if you would be her bridesmaid... guess not." Aori smirked, slouching as she walked all the way to whichever room she was assigned. She had no real preference, as long as she had a bed and a comfortable place to take care of her precious precious hair! Or, well, tentacles. Now the paper dolls she had been cutting were taking the shape of a preying mantis. It looks like a new obsession was on the rise...
Aori had been up all night, unable to sleep due to the sheer excitement. Tomorrow marked her first day at a prestigious hero university, U.A. as they called it. The young girl's first step toward becoming a pro-hero. Sure, at one point in time she had wanted something a little different. To be a singer just like her mom, but that's life, isn't it? Things change, ideas come and go... like autumn into winter.

She paced around her room, heavy dark bags forming under her eyes. She looked like a mess, a monster befitting the mutant quirk she was born with. Eventually, she picked up a toy she had been acquainted with some time in the past, something she turned too on occasion when she was in desperate need of answers. A magic eight ball. Shaking it violently, "Will I have a good day tomorrow?" She asked, at first in a very sweet and kind voice.

Within the blue triangle, words floated into existence. "NO." It read, in all capital letters.

"Huh!? What do you mean no! Aori's day will be amazing, I KNOW IT!"

"Then why did you ask..." Foreign words for a machine programmed to have the most basic responses. It wasn't Aori's fault her parents had spent the extra dollar on a newer model. A "sassy and sarcastic" magic eight ball. Not really what she needed at the moment!

This went on pretty much all night, question after question, annoying answer after answer. When the sun finally came up, Aori had grown exhausted from her debates with the toy but the idea of school filled her with a burst of energy unlike any other. Unfortunately, that couldn't get rid of the eye bags.

U.A. was massive. It stood before her like a mighty modern castle of education. Her hair rolled out in excitement and she twirled a tentacle in her fingertips. Mystery foam was running down the corner of her mouth as she daydreamed of her future to come. Not only was she going to become a hero, but she was going to meet people just like her. With a common interest.

Recently, she had gotten into the art of making paper dolls. Her newly-discovered current obsession. Therefore she always carried scissors and paper with her, for now anyway. In about a week that would be a dead hobby, joining her cemetery of forgotten interests. Therefore the drooling girl walked through the gates, keeping her head on a piece of paper she was snipping away at, attempting to get the "dolls" into heroic silhouettes.

Stopped by a robot who demanded her name, she gladly gave it away. "Aori Nagano." After approval, Aori continued onward, talking to herself the entire way. She was still pretty bent up about the events of last night...

"Aori will show that stupid magic eight ball, won't she?!? Ahahahahahaha!" Truth be told, she didn't really notice the other students. Not yet anyway. She wasn't used to having friends and found it hard to make them, most people avoided her. Even when walking through the crowd, slits of paper falling behind her as she sliced and sliced, nothing seemed to phase her.

When she finally reached the doors to the building, not just the courtyard or the gate leading up to it, she only had a few words to say. Mumbled under her breath. "It's hero time!!!" The words escaped her mouth very slowly, long and drawn out they brought upon a smile, a wicked and evil smile! She had no malicious intent, of course, she just happened to have REF. Resting evil face.
Am I still able to join this?


Sorcerer's Apprentice: Merlin

An Anima forged from the soul of a great and mighty librarian, with a teeny-tiny obsession, okay maybe major obsession, with occult sciences. From Astrology to Physiognomy, the old coot had both studied and taught it in his free time; when he wasn't organizing books of course. Given his penchant for the peculiar and bizarre, his soul has manifested itself as a pointed witch's hat.

While it comes across as just a fashionable accessory, underneath the brim of this hat lies a chamber of secrets, the source of this Anima's true power. A mysterious pool of ether. From this "void under the brim" the hat can conjure two large fists, larger than the user herself and far stronger and faster than any normal human hand.

She is a brazen and straightforward girl who isn't afraid to speak hard truths. She is exceptionally good at reading people and considers herself to be a master manipulator. Inheriting the blood of her mother, and therefore being a member of her race, she possesses something called the "ancestral voice" which is what her tribe believes to be the knowledge of her ancestors taking root as a singular voice in the back of her mind. It interferes with her decision-making and helps her in her day-to-day life. For example, it could tell her which door most likely leads to the safest path, but not definitely. This is a secret she keeps and does not discuss but has developed a heavy reliance on this voice when it comes to making hard choices. As someone who has escaped many terrible situations and credited this ability, she has a strong belief in fate and thinks that the world is taking care of her. An avid liar, the true details of her past remain a mystery to almost everyone around her and aside from the occasional flirtation, she doesn't let people get too close.

Chaotic Good

Lucasta was born from the love affair of a wealthy second pillar politician and a gypsy. Her mothers attempt to seduce the man for a better life was futile. Beauty paled in comparison to power and marriage to someone of such a low status, with nothing to bring to the table but what they saw in the mirror… well it was unthinkable. Political suicide. When he received news of a child, born from that one singular night of passion, the man buried the evidence so deep that he ensured no one would ever be able to dig it back up. Murder was the obvious method but he couldn’t bring himself to do it and instead they were banished to the slums. The mistress and her child.

Lucasta’s mother was forced to do unspeakable things in order to survive, she stole from anyone and everyone, only justifying the preconceived notions about her “people.” Tribal fortune-tellers who did nothing but lie, cheat, and steal. Truth be told, the abilities of her race were what allowed her to survive. An “ancestral voice” in the back of her head telling her yes or no, which path was wrong and which was right. Though sometimes, that voice was wrong. It was this that led to her mothers death. Depending on the past to predict the future is a dangerous and inaccurate method, but that has been the downfall of many belonging to this rare bloodline.

It came of no surprise that Lucasta was forced into a life of crime after the sudden death of her mother. The slums were a difficult place to live and that was the path of least resistance. At a rather young age, she discovered the very same voice that killed her mother. Though that fact was unknown to her. It was a friend. A guiding light in the chaos of her life and more often than not she noticed that those whispers, or shouts if the situation was urgent enough… were right.

This newfound talent of hers, intuition she called it, allowed her to join a local gang which focused on the illegal trading of Anima. Becoming an advisor to the leader, she successfully navigated them through a number of missions and soon became a key part of their intelligence. That was until the operation was busted as is any crime syndicate that would seek to weaponize Anima as the gang had done.

Behind bars and awaiting a trial, for some reason or another, Lucasta’s record was exonerated. Every crime she had committed was forgotten and she was offered a plea deal of sorts, one she had to accept. Join the δ division. Unknown to her, this was the masterful work of her father who had been keeping tabs on her since day one. In his long line of work this was perhaps his only ever good deed, even if it had terrible intentions.

The man's thought process was that the division needed people, and agents were likely to die. In a way he wanted to meet his daughter, but for him to succeed, she was better off dead.

Thus, the former criminal, Lucasta Karamazov, moved to the second pillar and became something she never thought she would. Turning over a new leaf, she never even took her father into consideration as the identity of the mysterious benefactor. No. It was fate.

Additional Information
Lucasta belongs to a rare race within the city of Soma. Referred to merely as gypsies, tramps, and thieves they are easily identifiable by the swirly, tribal-like birthmark that dances across half of their body. Members of the race often hide the markings with makeup or clothes, though Lucasta is proud of her heritage and does not.

In the past, several members of this race were known as "seers" or "oracles" and held in high regard by society. Their ability is comparable to a third eye which allows them to see the unknown. For example, if a sniper had their gun aimed at Lucasta, a whisper in the back of her head could alert her of danger, giving her some sort of warning in just a few words. If she had to choose between several doors, that same voice could guide her to make the best decision statistically possible.

This is known as the "Ancestral Voice" and is believed by the tribe to be the accumulation of knowledge their ancestors before them managed to gather. The reason these beings are so frowned upon is that as time goes on, the voice becomes fainter and fainter and or begins to lie completely. Someone who once made great decisions and offered great advice begins to do the exact opposite which has given the entire race the tarnished reputation they now possess and giving birth to a new name that has completely erased the old. A slur that Lucasta despises. "Spinners" they call them. For all the intricate lies they weave.

Hey! I'd be down to join, sounds fun! I just don't know where the discord is!
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