fdeviant

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

People just need to learn to hate other ms equally. Get a job in retail that's the fastest way.

Also. Don't sign the dotted line Marie!! It's a Trap!!

@VATROU

It's only kind of a trap. Also, that's the end of Marie's backstory and the next post will be moving into the present. Which brings me to this. @Dedonus , how do I get involved on any level with the Pax Metahumana event?

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

6 Months Ago

The Red Devil, a curious place that exists somewhere within Lost Haven, but exactly where no one could be sure, was a sight to behold. It had the air of a medieval tavern, featuring a bar that sat at the back, whose stock was poured from barrels and into flagons, shelves lined with bottled oddities, glowing elixirs, and a large assortment of mundane and magical reagents, tables and booths scattered with controlled chaos throughout the interior, seating guests of all supernatural walks of life, a large stage where a live band played upbeat folk melodies on traditional wooden instruments, and walls lined with beautiful, archaic paintings depicting many strange and splendid scenes, whose images were invaded by a mischievous, horned sprite.

Marie stood in awe of the establishment, her eyes moving rapidly, trying to take in every strange and sorcerous sight. She was greeted with friendly nods from The Red Devil’s guests, who ranged from tall, fae women draped with ivy sashes, to stout, dwarven looking gentlemen, to amorphous creatures of many strange colors and materials. There were even humans and other mortal creatures scattered here and there, making idle chat or paying for some illicit, magical service. “W-what is this place?” she asked, her voice filled with childlike curiosity.

Joseph grinned, “A haven of sorts for our kind and those with whom we regularly deal.” He took her hand and led her around the crowded ground floor over to a staircase. “There’s someone here I want you to meet.”

Marie nodded and allowed herself to be taken up to the fourth floor, whose sole resident was a large office stationed behind a single, black door, lined with ornate, golden patterns. It was an imposing structure at least three feet taller than herself and several times wider. At its center was the same seal they used to access The Red Devil, a cluster of branches or vines in a wreath with an imp in the middle. To the side of the door was a placard, upon which was the name “Robin Goodfellow,” written beautifully in script letters. Joseph stepped forward and knocked.

“Come in, come in,” a response came from beyond the door in a voice that echoed with each word, a voice that sent a slight chill down Marie’s spine. Joseph pushed open the black door and revealed the office space, whose every corner was filled with some form of antique or artifact, lit only by candles and wall braziers. At the far end, across from the door, was a desk, a rather modern looking desk lined with papers, scrolls, books, empty ink wells, and feather quills. Behind the desk sat a handsome man with sharp features, not unlike Joseph’s, short, sculpted black hair, dressed in an expensive looking black suit. Atop the man’s head, protruding from his temple and curving along the side of his head were two large horns, like those of a ram. Upon seeing Joseph, the man stood up, walked around his desk, and hugged him.

“Good to see you back so soon, Joseph!” he greeted him in a booming voice, “You get the job done?”

“Of course, Robin. I always get the job done.”

“You do indeed, which is why you’re my favorite witch in this business!” He chuckled, then looked over at Marie, who was positioned awkwardly in front of the door, still adorning her White Witch costume sans the mask. “And who is this lovely vision?” he asked, moving slowly towards her. Marie couldn’t help but blush, never really good at taking compliments.

Joseph spoke up, “Robin, I’d like you to meet Marie, Lost Haven’s ‘White Witch.’”

Robin perked up and gave her a wicked grin. “Ah, so you’re the little witch that Chinatown’s been raving about? So good to finally meet you, and look at how she’s dressed! This one has an eye for detail, I know it.” He moved over to her more quickly, taking her hand in his and kissing it. “Hello my dear Marie, I am Robin Goodfellow, proprietor of The Red Devil. You might also know me by my informal name, Puck.”

Marie looked surprised. “Puck? As in A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“The one and only . . . well, there are a few differences of course. I’m a little more of a trouble maker than ol’ William made me out to be, but I’ve since forgiven him.”

Marie just stood there, unsure of what to make of this. She knew that the mysteries of the world, the tales told to children, folklore and urban legends, held some shred of truth, but she hadn’t imagined that she would come face-to-face with them all in the same evening. She had so many questions, but decide to narrow it down to one. “What are you doing in Lost Haven?” she asked, slightly more bluntly than she had anticipated. She qualified her original question with, “I mean, why here? Why not stay in Britain and Europe, why come to Maine, of all places?”

Robin smiled. “I like this one, she gets right to the point!” He and Joseph exchanged a laugh and a few looks before continuing. “You see Marie, the answer is actually quite simple: boredom.”

“Boredom?”

Robin nodded and motioned for her and Joseph to take a seat. He then sat down behind his desk. “I am a restless being, Marie. Some call me a spirit, some call me a faerie, some even think I’m dastardly enough to be called a demon, but any way you spin it, I’ve lived, and will continue to live, for a long time, if not forever. When you’re staring at eternity, you’d be amazed at the type of things you come up with to pass the time. Yes I played the odd trick on others of my kind, but they don’t react to it in the same way. They can fight back, which is no fun. I moved on to playing with humans. Tricking and pranking them, giving them powers at outrageous prices, I even went through a weird, moral phase where I started teaching them lessons if you could believe it. But after a while, it lost its appeal.”

“A few centuries passed, mankind fought over religion, enslaved one another, the usual, but there was something missing. Magic was scarce. Sure there were witch burnings, hangings, and beheadings, but that didn’t stop people from practicing. What stopped was their belief in magic and the supernatural. Suddenly man gets a few new gadgets and thinks he’s too good to conjure demons and hex the neighbor’s cattle, and I couldn’t have that. So I went all across the globe, rounding up what magics I could and setting them loose wherever possible. The Old World is still full of magic, cunning folk still mean something to the rural communities. But over here, in America, the ‘New World,’ science takes the limelight. I had a few smaller operations here and there, bringing together the magical communities in different parts of the states until finally making my way into Lost Haven a few decades ago. Crime is also an issue in cities, there were beings who needed some form of residence and a way to sustain themselves, plus all this metahuman nonsense was starting to kick in and upset the locals, so I figured why not set up shop where people were having the most problems?”

All of this just out of boredom? Marie thought to herself as he finished his story, both confused and inspired. There was no point in trying to make sense of the actions of spiritual and immortal beings. Marie knew that Robin could tell what was going through her mind by the look on her face.

“So what brings you to The Red Devil, Marie?” Robin asked, leaning in close from behind his desk. “Were you on the trail of our friend Joseph here?” He and Joseph both chuckled.

“I was,” she replied uncomfortably, “at least until he explained the situation.” Marie shifted in her seat a few times, thinking over her next words carefully. She tried to come up with some long, heartwarming speech, some beautiful piece of prose that would make them marvel at her intelligence, deliver a sort of oral resume, but once she remembered who she was dealing with, decided instead to say, “And I want in.”

Robin leaned back in his chair and laughed madly, wild with excitement. “You want to be a part of The Red Devil?” he asked. Marie gave him a single nod and he responded in the same way. “I like her, Joseph, good job!” He produced a large scroll from behind his desk and set it in front of her, along with a quill. “You want to be a part of the team, Marie? Then welcome aboard! You’ll be in the business of contracts, just like Joseph.” He snapped his fingers and the scroll unfolded. With an eerie smile on his face he pointed to it saying, “All you have to do is sign on the dotted line . . .”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

6 Months Ago

Marie shook off her fear and anxiety, floating quickly down to the street and scanning for Joseph’s figure in the crowd of people that had collected to witness the horrific scene displayed on the highway. A small collection within the crowd began cheering as Marie came into view. Marie had no time to waste, Joseph was a mystery to her and there was no telling just how much power he possessed. She shot past the crowd, barreling down the streets as fast as she could, hoping to see him hidden somewhere within Chinatown.

After ten minutes of searching, she pulled out a small pendulum from within her cloak, a crystal held at the end of a silver chain, and began chanting Joseph’s name. The pendulum responded by spinning clockwise, then back and forth, until finally it pointed in a straight line. Marie followed the path her divinatory tool had laid out, a twisted, gnarled path that took her to remote locations of the city where anything other than darkness scarcely resided. Eventually, she came across a hooded figure running into an alley. Recognizing the figure as Joseph, she flew ahead of him, blocking his path. Sure enough, Joseph removed his hood and looked upon the White Witch with a wicked smile on his face.

“Nice to see you again, Marie.” He greeted her with a devilish grin. Marie jumped at the mention of her own name, caught off guard by his apparent insight. Before she could protest, he continued. “Don’t act so surprised, I’ve had Holt keeping an eye on you since the first time we met. I knew you were the White Witch all along.” A black mist descended upon them, centralizing and forming into the ghastly image she had seen several times before, Joseph’s familiar spirit. Holt gave her an almost apologetic look, as if he were sorry for having spied on her. Marie decided to strengthen her resolve. She couldn’t deal with a threat like his if she were always shocked and scared.

“Then I guess there’s no point in denying it,” she replied, removing her raven mask and revealing her beautifully pale visage, eyes puffy and red, cheeks flushed from exhaustion. Despite being utterly terrified, she managed to keep a stern look. She took a deep breath.

“I’ll bet you’ve still got a couple of questions you want answered, am I right?” He asked condescendingly. “Well, lucky for you I’ve got some time on my hands before my next job.”

“Job?” she questioned with outrage. “You just killed an innocent man and walked away like it was nothing!” She looked around to make sure she wasn’t heard. Luckily, or unluckily, the two of them were in complete isolation.

“You think he was innocent?” he chuckled. “Come on Marie, you know better than that. We’re witches, we don’t care about innocent, we care about ourselves and very few others. When someone wrongs us, we get even, it’s just that simple.”

“What the hell could he have done to warrant a death curse?” she screamed, still afraid to take action against him without knowing what sort of protective charms he had in place.

“Well, he didn’t do anything to me per say, but he did something pretty nasty to one of my clients.”

“Clients?”

“Maybe I had the wrong idea about you, Marie. Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought, because the answer to all of these questions is glaringly obvious.” Marie wanted to punch him, she wanted to become physical, but she just stood there, eyes like daggers. He continued. “We’re witches, Marie, we’ve been selling our services to the highest bidder since the Middle Ages, and we don’t ask questions, we just take their money and get casting.”

“So when someone asks you to kill a man, you don’t ask questions, you don’t care that you’re about to take an innocent life?” Marie raged at him. “Do you even know who that man was?”

Joseph nodded, “Of course I do. He was the proprietor of a local restaurant chain. And if you must know, he wasn’t all that innocent. My client was an employee at one of his restaurants. She told me that he made a habit of visiting the different restaurant locations and roughing up the female employees in the storeroom. She told me that something needed to be done, and here we are.”

Marie went silent. She stood there for a moment, desperately trying to care about the man she had once believed innocent, and finding only apathy where empathy should reside. Had she been in a similar position, she would have done the same, if not worse. She looked at Joseph, her eyes filled with uncertainty. He moved forward and gently held her shoulder. “No one’s innocent, Marie,” he said softly, patting her shoulder then moving around her to the wall at the end of the alley.

“W-wait,” she called out to him, her voice a whimper. Joseph turned around, sporting his signature grin. “I . . . uh, I don’t know what to do about this. I’ve been playing the hero, but if this keeps happening . . .” She was at a loss. The White Witch had come when Chinatown needed her, protecting them from petty criminals and a few raging metahumans, but the supernatural, her area of expertise, was a different story. Magic isn’t black and white as most think. There is no true morality that binds a witch to doing good or evil as both have their place in the craft. Marie could have decided then to abandon the darker practices, but that wasn’t something she was willing to give up. She believed in getting even, and tonight’s events were just that, someone getting even.

Joseph could see Marie’s dilemma. “Well you know what they say, Marie.” She gave him a confused look. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“W-what?”

“You’re a talented witch and the only one who’s been ballsy enough to pull a stunt like White Witch. You want to make a difference in Lost Haven? Try expanding your area of influence. Stop chasing down criminals and start doing what our kind has done for centuries, appealing to the people who need you most, desperate souls willing to do anything just to have things go their way. Besides, that half-assed occult shop can’t be enough to pay for your rent and cover the cost of living in the city.”

Marie wasn’t sure how to respond. He was right, of course. Madalena was her friend and she loved her job, but Shadow of the Moon wasn’t rolling in cash. Marie had come to Lost Haven to be a cunning woman, and now she was given the opportunity to be a true influence within the city, operating in secret, still behind a mask, still having an effect on the city as a whole. She was too overwhelmed to speak, so she nodded, moving closer to him.

Joseph smiled, taking her hand in his and with the other, pulling out a small length of chalk from his coat and drawing a sigil on the wall, the inside resembling an imp or devil. The sigil glowed a bright red, the wall around the sigil beginning to separate, moving away from the wall and forming a door leading to a long corridor. The two walked through the wall together and down the corridor, Joseph opening the ornate, red door at the end. As he did, a brightly lit tavern with several tables, rooms, and strange denizens came into view. Marie looked in astonishment, she was entering a place where all the strange and fantastical things commingled. Joseph looked back at her and with a grin said, “Welcome to the Red Devil.”

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

6 Months Ago

Two months ago, Marie joined in the midnight revelry of her kind, her fellow witches. As a spectre she danced in the silver glow of the full moon, celebrating the power it offered, calling on her guardian and master and praising his name. Never before had Marie enjoyed the company of spirits and witches, and all of it brought about by curiosity, hers and Joseph’s. He had stirred something within her long untouched, something that Marie could scarcely recognize, real joy. In the months following, Marie returned to the forest as a spirit, dancing again with the collection of practitioners and fae at the return of the full moon, each time the circle growing larger, and her smile wider. She spoke to Joseph only when they gathered and never in the time between, for he gave her no method of contact. She had wanted to question him about the nature of magic in Lost Haven, if the community of practitioners ever came together outside of ritual circles, if they conjured together or simply enjoyed each other’s company, but no opportunity ever arose for her to ask such questions, nor had she seen him between those midnight dances . . . until now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The White Witch came out only at night, a time when the mask that hid criminal activity would also serve in hiding her identity, should it ever come into question. She made her usual rounds above Chinatown, hovering over crowded and empty streets alike with a watchful eye. Tonight seemed calm, no speeding sirens or flashing lights, no yelling or screaming for help, no visible sign of trouble. Marie yawned, longing for the comforts of her studio apartment. She craved the warmth of her bed, having missed the chance to nap before patrolling because of work running late. She flew once more over the buildings and shops, once more through dark corners and alleys, until deciding to go home for the evening. As she began the flight home, she noticed something suspicious on the street below, a man walking down the middle of the street being followed by someone a few paces behind. Marie kept a close eye on the two men as they made their way to a diner a few feet down, the first man entering, the second waiting outside the door.

As the door closed, the second man produced a small, black pouch from his coat and sprinkled its contents in a line across the doorway. Marie perked up, recognizing the act as a method of performing magic on another, forcing them to unknowingly cross a cursed or blessed line. She wasn’t sure how to act, she didn’t know the nature of the spell that was being worked. Magic is a complex art, with some spells holding a variety of components and safeguards to keep them from backfiring, or to keep others from interfering with them. Marie was powerless to stop what happened next. The door opened and out stepped the first man, crossing the line made by the second. He began walking back down the street the way he’d come holding a his order from the diner. Ten feet later, he stopped dead in his tracks, the spell’s effects now setting in. The man turned and began walking down the street, through Chinatown and to a main highway. Marie followed overhead.

As they reached the highway, with no regard for his own safety, the man walked into oncoming traffic. Cars began swerving around him, honking their horns and swearing as they blared past. Marie tried to move him from the road from afar, waving her arm to move him from the street to the sidewalk, but to no avail. The more she tried, the more drained she felt until finally, a sharp pain went through her chest, a consequence of interfering with a powerful spell. She battled the pain for a few moments as cars continued to pass the man in the street until a large truck passed, unable to stop or swerve. The truck hit the man with full force, killing him on impact. His body was thrown underneath the truck, whose large wheels ripped off skin and limbs, leaving a visceral mess underneath and behind. Marie felt sick. She turned her head only to find the perpetrator standing a few feet away. Who would do something like this? she thought as she glared at the man, unsure of how to approach the situation. Then, something sinister happened. As she battled whether or not to confront the hooded culprit, he turned towards her, looked up, and beneath the hood she saw a man with familiar features. Marie gasped, a shiver running down her spine. There stood Joseph Mathers, the witch with whom she had no contact, one whom she might have even called friend. As she stood frozen in the sky, Joseph gave her a knowing look, followed by an eerie smile and wave, before turning and disappearing into the city.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

8 Months Ago

A few days had passed since Marie’s encounter with Joseph, the mysterious customer ushered out of Shadow of the Moon by a strange man with a demonic visage. She could have simply warded the store, herself, and been done with the whole thing, but Marie sensed that something was amiss, that if she were to try something like that, she’d only anger whatever forces with whom she had suddenly crossed paths. Instead, she decided to spend her free time researching similar events online and in the various folkloric books and scrolls she kept. In that time, she’d managed to narrow down the historical sightings and accounts to the beings most likely to be wandering the streets of Lost Haven. European folklore was filled with ghost stories, and Marie believed that perhaps the being that she had witnessed two days prior was some form of wraith or shade possessing the body of a man, and perhaps she had been able to discern the creature’s true form because of her powers. But wraiths are vengeful spirits, she thought, trying to make sense of her account. . . . unless it was bound to Joseph’s service by a contract or spell, but even then it wouldn’t have told him to leave, would it? She then wondered if Joseph knew the man’s true form, and if so, was he in control of or in league with him? He might’ve had a familiar. They have no definite shape, but they aren’t known to take human form . . . but there’s no lore saying that they can’t. After hours of pondering and hypothesizing, Marie settled on a theory, believing Joseph was a skilled witch who had bound into service a familiar spirit. Familiars have been known to guide and command their owners from time to time. Maybe they had an important date to keep? She kept a close eye on the shop’s emails, reviews, and complaints. He said that he would keep in touch, but he didn’t specify how.

Marie continued to toss around ideas in her head as she strolled into work that morning. She was so deep in thought that any conversation Madalena attempted to initiate went right past her, much to Madalena’s dismay. The day trudged along as Marie came up with all the different ways in which she could reach Joseph until something finally came to her: crossing the hedge. “That’s it!” she exclaimed as the thought came to her, Madalena peering into the shop from the office with a raised brow.

“You okay?” she asked with semi-concern.

“Yeah,” Marie answered, “just remembered something, didn’t mean to worry you.” Madalena shrugged and returned to the office. Marie, on the other hand, began scanning through the thick, dusty tome she often carried to work for the recipe to a spiritual flying ointment. Once she got home from work, she began preparations for a spiritual flight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crossing the hedge, astral projection, spiritual flight, all different ways of saying the same thing, sending one’s spirit out into this world and beyond. The flight of witches recorded in European texts were likely those few times when witches were spotted flying to the sabbat in their physical forms, but sabbat meetings are best conducted as a spectre, for it allows greater focus, increases the power raised, and one can more easily find practitioners of the craft moving through the confines of time and space than searching in the physical realm. Marie knew all of this, she had known it since she was a child, but it hadn’t occurred to her, until recently, that Joseph might have been testing her knowledge when he entered the shop. He had seen the old tome that she had been reading, possibly even read the tops of the pages or deciphered a few of the obvious sigils and scripts, so perhaps he had recognized her as a carrier of the witch-fire from a few simple observations, and by “in touch,” he meant she would find him if she truly did carry Bucca’s mark.

Tonight was perfect, a full moon. If there were any other witches like herself, those who worshipped or those touched by Bucca, then tonight they would surely be at their most active. Marie dressed in ritual garb, a formality that she had never really cared to abide by, but one she believed would be appropriate for tonight’s operations. She had given the ointment plenty of time to set up the day before and was ready to begin. She took some of it on her fingers and placed a bit on her forehead, around her lips, and on the nape of her neck, rubbing in the poisonous mixture gently, making sure not to touch her lips or eyes. She then lay down in her bed, closed her eyes, and began breathing in and out deeply. With each breath, she fell deeper and deeper into a trance, her body warming up the areas where the ointment was placed. Finally, she opened her eyes and stood up, looking down at her bed to ensure that her body lay there sleeping. Sure enough, there were two of her, the one standing her consciousness and spirit, the one left sleeping her physical form. She smiled, proud of herself for being able to cross over so quickly and easily, then passed through the window of her apartment and flew out into the night.

As a spirit, she could glide through the air faster than if in physical flight and was not bothered by things such as walls and boundaries, for she could simply pass through them so long as they weren’t protected from her. She flew over Chinatown, then through the streets, smiling as the people around her felt the cold chill of her spirit pass them by, unable to see her. As she flew, she searched for beings like herself, spirits and inhuman creatures whose identities would be obvious in this heightened state of awareness. As if on cue, two figures came swirling past, women with fair skin and ivory hair that glowed brilliantly in the night. One was skyclad, the other wearing a thin, translucent tunic around her waist. These were not witches, but full blooded fae, spiritual beings of myth who attend to the many aspects of nature and who, like humans, have desires and motives all their own. These two nodded at Marie as they flew by, giggling and singing in eerie harmonies, eventually disappearing into a thicket of leaves and brush at the edge of the city. A forest, the traditional gathering places for witches and their ilk, a place where all the spirits could be seen and heard. Even in Lost Haven, a heavily urban area, spirits could enjoy the quiet of parks and forest trails, little pieces of nature scattered here and there.

Marie flew swiftly into the small collection of dense trees, moving about them freely until happening upon a clearing where, sure enough, other cloaked, darkly clad, and naked peoples gathered. Among them were all manner of spirits and fae, men and women of many ages, some gathered physically, some spiritually like Marie, and other creatures, dark shadows in the forms of beasts that Marie assumed were circle guardians or familiars. One in particular caught Marie’s attention, a tall, thin shadow with long, spindly talons and a wide, gaping jaw fitted with three rows of jagged teeth. Marie felt a shiver as she eyed the being, who turned to her as she neared the circle and gave her a simple nod. His presence wasn't threatening or menacing, though his image betrayed his motives. Beside the shadow stood a handsome man her age with beautiful and angular features, his dark hair covered by the hood of a dark cloak. He too looked to her, stretching out an arm and waving her over, smiling all the while.

“I had a feeling we might be seeing you again,” he said arrogantly, verbally patting himself on the back with his greeting. Marie wanted to roll her eyes, but decided against it. He continued, “I guessed from that grimoire you had out the other day that you were one of us, one of His followers. Not just anyone can get their hands on the personal grimoires of witches from the Middle Ages.”

“I’ve, uh, got a pretty good collection I guess . . .” she replied awkwardly. Even though she was among her kind, she still wasn’t completely at ease. “I’m Marie, by the way. Marie Heartford.” She extended her arm as if to give him a handshake.

“Joseph Mathers,” he responded, taking her hand in his and kissing it. Marie turned her head and blushed. She supposed this was a semi-formal occasion, so such a greeting wasn’t unwarranted, but it still took her by surprise.

“D-do you know everyone here?” she asked in a soft voice so as not to be heard by the others, all of whom were too busy conversing with one another to hear anything she said.

Joseph shook his head, “I’ve met a few, but this is my first time seeing many of these people. The circle gets bigger every full moon. Friends tell their friends, who tell their friends, that kind of thing.” He looked up into the sky, noting the position of the moon. He looked back down at her and gave a wide grin. “It would seem that time is upon us. The witching hour draws near.”

“I-I’ve got a few more questions . . . “

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that later,” he interrupted. “Right now, let’s enjoy ourselves and revel in the presence of our own kind.”

Before Marie could object, her hand was seized by Joseph and he brought her into the circle, outlined by several occult markings on the ground, a pyre of logs and sticks constructed at its center. Marie was familiar with this form of ritual but had never had the chance to take part, rather, she never had the desire to be around this many people, some of whom weren’t even clothed. The others in company came together within the circle, some holding stangs, some holding incense, some holding bowls of consecrated or holy water, and the ritual began. The guardians were called, the spirits were raised, and as the group began their ritual chanting, beings of all shapes, sizes, and metaphysical persuasions began emerging from the surrounding woods, some holding instruments, some simply looking to join in the revelry. Suddenly, the pyre at the center erupted into flames and all in attendance began a frenzied dance around it, some chanting Bucca’s name, some singing loudly in strange tongues, but all dancing to the music of the spirits, to the music of Bucca. Marie had never once liked a party, had never once been a part of such revelry, but for the first time in her life, Marie felt herself begin to slip. She was taken over by the frenzied ecstasy, as if possessed by Bucca himself, and knowingly, willingly, and joyfully danced and sang with the witches and spirits in the forest, and for the first time since her childhood, saw Him, floating above the pyre, dancing with witches and spirits, hand-in-hand with everyone present. Marie smiled and thought, This is pure freedom.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

<Snipped quote by fdeviant>

Well, the Shaman crowd that the Renores are involved in are generally found in mosh pits, metal concerts, and raves. So if you need to find a spirit, or need someone who can pierce the Veil without effort, go to one of those events.

My idea for Shamans is that, while powerful through contracts with spirits, they don't have as much raw magical ability within themselves. However, they can see beyond magical obfuscation, and into the Veil, the true nature of things.

As for the monster thing, maybe there are smaller groups of benign ones, and they act against the malevolent ones, while staying incognito?

@Athinar

I was thinking something similar about monsters. And the Shaman thing sounds interesting. Who are the Renores, if you don't mind me asking?

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Can I take a few open suggestions from those present for something I'd like to add to my current arc? I'm having Marie get involved with the supernatural underground of Lost Haven, which I'm sure someone else has touched on but if not then my character will help flesh it out, and I wanted a little input as to the types of creatures she might run into in the next few posts. Any sort of mythical monster that you could imagine walking in disguise down the streets of Lost Haven, I just need a little inspiration in order to get my creativity flowing.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Character Name
Marie Elizabeth Heartford

Alias
White Witch

Speech Color
As Marie
As White Witch

Character Alignment
Walking the Line

Identity
Secret

Character Personality
Marie is a typical, unassuming millennial who, like most her age, follows an ever shifting moral compass. A long-time fan of the occult and current practitioner of Traditional Witchcraft (Trad Craft for short), Marie’s outlook on life is that it should be experienced in whatever manner one so chooses. Of course, being a millennial, Marie tends to side with more liberal ideologies, believing heavily in all manner of civil rights and liberties (including those that affect the supernatural/superpowered communities). She does, however, possess a few quirks and caveats that make her slightly more complex than the average civilian. Despite her outlook on life, Marie is quite the introvert, often finding more pleasure in reading and remaining in solitude than going out for a night on the town. Her looks betray her awkwardness, for while her beauty and sense of style are apparent, she lacks conversational skills and tends to stumble over her words. Whatever social difficulties she may have, Marie is quite the skilled problem solver, able to calmly approach any nonsocial situation. Being a practitioner of Trad Craft, Marie has no problem in exacting vengeance when she believes it to be necessary and always has a curse in her back pocket. However, so too does she believe in using power to protect those in need and is more benevolent than she lets on.

Uniform/costume
White Witch fully embraces the Elizabethan stereotype of the witch, adorning a large, wide-brimmed conical hat made of black leather, as well as a flowing, low-cut, white dress and black corset. She is draped in a large, black, feathered cloak that completely covers her body when brought forward, and wears black leather boots with a pointed toe and raised heel. To cover her face, she wears a porcelain mask that resembles a raven’s head. She also carries a large, hand-crafted broomstick that, with the aid of a magical ointment created from various herbs, reagents, and blessed by moonlight, allows her temporary flight for days/weeks, depending on usage.

When not in costume, Marie dawns quite trendy, often over-sized, clothing ranging from pastels and greyscale. She has long, dark hair and soft, pale, rounded features.

Origin Info/Details
As a little girl, Marie had a powerful fascination with all things magical. She adored bedtime stories, fantasy worlds filled with wizards and witches, outrageous fairytales and the like, so much so that she would wander the wooded areas near her family home in New England and sing enchantments of her own design or talk to the trees and the flowers, hoping and praying that one day they might respond. It was during one of these outings that she encountered something that frightened her, something straight from a fairytale, or perhaps a nightmare. Within the sparse foliage stood a tall figure, chest tanned and exposed, legs covered in dark garments with hooves erupting from their bottoms, and a head like goat’s with a candle balanced above its brow. Marie ran, fearing the strange creature, but her curiosity saw her return to the same clearing each day, and each day she was greeted by the same image.

Eventually, she grew brave and began wandering closer to the goat-headed man, each new journey into the forest taking her a few steps nearer, until finally they were close enough to touch. Though the man looked outlandish, it was clear that he meant Marie no harm. She grew more comfortable with his presence and after some time began to see him as a friend. Marie would bring him the occasional gift, a wreath of flowers, a drawing, pastries and sweets, and though he did not speak, he seemed to emanate something that felt like joy or gratitude. This friendship grew, and Marie began to divulge her deepest desires and fears, relating tales of her mundane adventures to him as if he were a diary.

After some time, Marie gathered up the courage to ask the man’s name, and finally, he spoke, or rather, she heard a voice, a deep, echoing voice within her mind that seemed to answer her questions. The being told Marie that his name was Bucca, but he was known by many other names across the world. He told her that he appreciated her company and gifts, and that it was time for him to bestow her with a gift. Bucca raised his arm, extended his finger, and touched Marie’s forehead. For a moment, she felt a slight pain, like a burn, but it was over in an instant. He then removed a large, leather-bound tome from his waist and handed it to her. It was covered in many strange symbols and words that she couldn’t recognize. He told her that with this, she could make all of her dreams come true, she could have whatever she wanted, but she must keep this book a secret from others, lest they think differently of her. Overjoyed, she hugged Bucca and ran back home to read through the strange book.

Within were several charms, enchantments and recipes that could bring wealth, luck, misfortune, bring rain, calm a storm, bind a wind, etc. Marie immediately began performing all the little spells that she could, making her life as magical as possible with what few resources she had. She returned to the forest to speak with Bucca, but for the first time, he wasn’t there. Subsequent trips to the woods would prove uneventful, and Marie never again saw Bucca in person, though sometimes, she believed she heard his voice in dreams.

Now a young adult with a plethora of experiences with magic, Marie realizes that she had encountered a being known to witches worldwide, the “witches god” so to speak, known to religious folk as the Devil. For whatever reason, he had chosen to bestow her with the witch fire, a special connection to the Otherside only gifted to certain practitioners that greatly enhances their magical talents. White Witch formed from necessity. After Marie saw the state of the world, the damages that other powerful individuals had caused, she decided to follow in the footsteps of those that came before her, to become a modern Cunning Woman more powerful than her predecessors. She crafted her costume, moved to Lost Haven, where the strange activity seemed to be the heaviest, and began her career as White Witch whilst managing an occult shop within the city as Marie.

Hero Type
Mystic

Power Level
City Level (Her powers make her more effective at Street Level, but she certainly has City Level potential.)

Powers
Marie’s powers follow a modern occult concept known as the Thirteen Artes of the Witch:

• Hexing: The ability to influence one’s luck through magical means (varying degrees can be achieved through complex rituals, simple spells, incantations, and occasionally by glances or the “evil-eye”).
• Divination: Using random events in one’s surroundings, reflective surfaces, and other divinatory means such as tarot, runes, etc., to discern hidden/useful information.
• Conjuration: 1) The ability to conjure certain powers, emotions, or attributes such as love, luck, wealth, etc., via magical means. 2) The power to move items/objects magically if there original position is known (ex: conjuring a cup of tea from the next room over because I forgot it on the counter).
• Evocation: Summoning and working with supernatural forces such as spirits; occasionally employing these forces to do one’s bidding.
• Invocation: The ability of the witch to awaken/channel certain gifts (most often meaning conjuring of flames, certain telekinetic abilities, and minor versions of the other Artes that are more “battle” oriented).
• Abjuration: Impeding the movement/protecting against supernatural and magical forces by way of magical and spiritual wards.
• Glamoury: The ability to alter something’s image, as well as perceptions about said image (ex: charming an item to appear like something else and influencing an onlookers’ perception of said item such that when they touch it or are near it, feel, hear, smell, etc. the illusory item instead).
• Compulsion: The ability to influence/interfere with thoughts, memories, and emotions. (Spells that fall under compulsion aren’t all that effective against strong willed individuals)
• Enchantment: The ability to transfer power into an object in order to give it some magical task or potential (Blessing or cursing an object).
• True Sight: The ability to see and interact with the spiritual/invisible world; the ability to sense magical or supernatural forces, beings, etc.
• Healing: The ability to manipulate a biological system’s natural processes in order to more effectively heal injuries, stave off infection and disease, etc.
• Weatherworking: The ability to influence the weather, create/calm rain and storms, bring forth winds, etc.
• Faring Forth: The ability to unfetter one’s spirit from their physical form and travel into spiritual planes/as a spirit for limited durations.

(Note: These are not 13 innate abilities, just categories under which a certain spell or power will fall.)

Attributes

Strength: Normal Human (May very under the effects of magic)
Speed/Reaction Time: Normal Human (Speed increased to around 20-40 MPH during flight)
Endurance: Normal Human, 2 Hours
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average/Above Average
Fighting Skill: Untrained
Resources: Average-Large (Managing occult shop = discount)

Weaknesses
Marie’s magic is slightly stunted in that, while it is more powerful than most mundane practitioners’, most of it (aside from certain conjurations and invocations) requires some physical aspect such as a talisman, charm, crystal, herb, potion, etc., or a spoken incantation which can sometimes be an inconvenience. She is also physically weak given that she is human and untrained in combat.

Supporting Characters
Bucca: The being responsible for Marie’s powers and the patron of all Traditional Witches. Though he is known to bestow powers/favors, he rarely interferes with the lives of his followers or gives them additional aid without being asked. Marie sometimes sees him in dreams/visions and journals any instance in which she hears his voice.

Madalena Hawthorne: A beautiful New Age spiritual, Madlena is Marie’s friend and employer. Owner of the “Shadow of the Moon” occult and curiosities shop in Lost Haven, she has suspicions about the White Witch’s true identity.

Joseph Mathers: A fellow witch gifted by Bucca whom Marie has met on occasion. He has a tempting personality and an air of mystery about him.

Sample Post

The crisp, wintry air that blew through the open doors of the shop carried with it the smell of the city, a familiar dankness mixed with car exhaust and the leftovers from the Chinese restaurant down the street. Inside the small corner store, bottles, books, and hanging trinkets of many strange denominations lay out in the open among other metaphysical clutter, threatening to move from their rightful places, but never budging an inch. Behind the rough, wooden counter that stood at the far right end of the shop were two women, one dressed in wild colors, dawning a transparent shawl patterned with stars and crescent moons, whose hair was a mess of silver knots tied back wildly and fair of skin. The other had jet-black hair that fell lazily over her face, a smooth, rounded, shapely visage, and wore a dark dress, draped with a bright silver scarf and short leather jacket.

“Marie?” the light haired woman called to the other while carrying a pile of books from the storeroom into the shop, placing them haphazardly and picking whatever had fallen from the shelves as a result of her negligence.

“Yeah?” the other responded while cutting open a box of taper candles and placing them in a small display container on the countertop.

“I’m thinking about going to that club a few blocks over . . . The Hub I think. Anyway, wanna finally break out of that prison cell you call an apartment and go with me?”

Marie looked up with a sigh. “First of all, that was the only thing I could find in my price range, and you’re not one to talk Miss Madalena “I live my conservative cousins in a two bedroom townhouse” Hawthorne. That’s more of a prison sentence than a studio apartment.”

Madalena gave her a look of playful disdain and replied sarcastically, “Wow, restocking gets you pretty heated doesn’t it?” She smiled as Marie rolled her eyes.

“Second,” Marie continued, “you know how I feel about crowds. I’m just not good at the whole have fun, be social thing.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with crowds when you’re out saving Lost Haven as the White Wi-”

“Will you stop with that?” Marie interrupted, “I’m not the White Witch. Believe me, if I had an ounce of her power I wouldn’t be working in a place like this.”

Madalena raised both hands in defense, “Alright, I give up,” she smiled playfully. “Will you bring those pricing tags over here?”

Marie nodded and went into the office in the back of the store to search for the box of pricing tags. Soon after she left, a tall man in a dark cap and trenchcoat entered the store, his hands concealed within his pockets.

Madalena turned and politely said, “Oh I’m sorry, we were just closing for the night. If you want to look around you can come back tomorrow at noon.”

The man ignored her and proceeded to walk around the shop, moving closer to the counter. Again, Madalena protested, “I’m sorry sir but we’re closed. I’m gonna have to ask you to le-,” Madalena was interrupted by a quick blow to the stomach. She doubled over and began gasping for air while the strange man, having quickly brought his hand back into his coat, continued his path to the counter. Hearing the commotion, Marie came quickly from the office to greet the stranger, now wielding a gun in his left hand and taking money from the register with his right. He gave her a threatening look as if meaning to shoot. With a violent wave of her right arm, the thief was sent soaring into the wall near the counter, his gun falling to his feet as he flew.

No sooner than the first fallen, a second assailant entered the shop with his weapon already drawn. He shot once at the office window behind the counter, smashing it. Before he could fire a second shot, Marie outstretched her arms and with a nervous flourish of her hands, charmed the assailant's weapon. His second shot backfired, leaving him momentarily blinded from the flash. Marie again whipped her arm violently, the second thief sent flying into the store window, cracking it in the process. With both men down and seemingly unconscious, Marie ran to Madalena’s side, helping her up with one arm while phoning the police with her other.

“I’m alright,” Madalena protested, removing Marie’s arm from around her and using a table to support herself. After a moment, she turned to Marie and, with a devilish smile said, “I fucking knew it!”

(Moved to this tab @Dedonus's request.)

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

@fdeviant Could you post your character sheet in the character tab? Just for convenience sake. :)

@Dedonus

Will do!

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

8 Months Ago

“Who do you think she could be?” Madalena questioned Marie as they walked down the busy streets of Lost Haven. She picked up a newspaper from a stand outside a convenience store and began flipping through its pages, scanning for any information regarding the White Witch of Chinatown. Lost Haven was littered with articles and stories of her many strange and super-powered citizens, but even here magic was a rarity. It didn’t take long for the White Witch to make her front-page debut in some of the more affluent and respected newspapers and websites. Her charms had captivated the city’s west coast, and the surrounding areas were quick to spread the news of her arrival in Lost Haven. Marie smiled as Madalena read out article after article, sighting after sighting. She had succeeded in concealing her identity and keeping the entirety of Chinatown in constant awe and confusion of her. She was proud of herself, but this pride and self gratification were not unwarranted, for not only was her identity masterfully concealed, her presence in that part of the city had lessened criminal activity significantly.

“Marie?” Madalena prodded her shoulder as they made their way into Shadow of the Moon.

“Hm?” Marie responded lazily, her mind still wandering.

“Who do you she is, the White Witch?”

“Madalena, there are thousands of people in this city, how am I to know which ones are moonlighting as superheroes on their day off?”

“Yikes, she’s testy in the mornings.” Madalena joked, rearranging a few of the shelves before going to the office at the back of the shop. She poked her head out of the door and said, “You gonna open for me or sit there daydreaming?”

“Fight me,” Marie called backed as she went to the window and turned on the tacky neon “open” sign. She took her place behind the counter and began carefully flipping through the pages of an old tome, making sure to keep it hidden from Madalena. She then produced a small, leather bound journal from a box behind the counter and began copying down certain entries within the tome. She laughed internally at the fact that, as an employee, she essentially had “dibs” on just about anything in the store, within reason. Marie copied down a variety of folk magics used to keep away intruders, stop rain, induce illness and misfortune, small chants and spells that might be useful to her as White Witch. This went on for about an hour until she was interrupted by the ringing of a bell, the one stationed above the store entrance.

Shadow of the Moon had several repeat customers but rarely saw new business. Marie was surprised to see someone strolling into the shop so early. The customer was a man of normal height and medium build with brown eyes and dark, stylish, brown hair. His clothes were dark and complemented his sharp, angular features. He was rather attractive and Marie stood inactive for several moments before realizing she was staring.

“Welcome,” she greeted him in a low voice, “Can I help you find anything?” Her ability to socialize with customers wasn’t up to Madalena’s level or expectations, but the anxiety she once felt over having to deal with another person had lessened in her time working there.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he responded, continuing to wander around the shop, fiddling with hanging items, flipping through the occasional book, picking up varied artifacts and items strewn all about the shop. Marie watched him make his rounds until he made his way to the counter, looking at the assorted candles and jewelry to the left of the register. He looked over at the open tome in front of Marie, his brow raised. He pointed at the book, “Mind if I take a look?”

Marie spaced out for a moment before realizing what was happening. She muttered something incoherent, then shook her head, closing the tome and placing it behind the counter. “S-sorry, that one’s not for sale.”

The man shrugged, “Shame.” He stood in front of the register but continued to survey the store. “Got anything a little older in here? These books are all pretty contemporary and I’m not really a New Ager.” Marie seemed taken aback by his question. Most of the store’s customers were content with New Age books and Llewellyn publishing, but she supposed that most customers were never exposed to the type of information she was.

Marie nodded, “We have a few copies of the Books of Moses and similar grimoires in the back, but they haven’t been priced yet.”

“Huh,” he chuckled, “that it?” This wasn’t the first time Marie had dealt with a traditionalist looking to bash the new age scene or criticize the store’s inventory, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t an ordinary case of magical elitism.

“Umm, i-if you’re looking for something else then maybe we can order it for you? You can send a request on our website or look through the linked catalogs on our homepage . . .” the bell rang again as another man walked into the store. Marie shifted herself and looked past the one standing before her to see the other customer. Marie began to welcome the second customer, but fear held her tongue. For the slightest of moments, Marie saw a terrifying image. A tall, black shadow moved through the doorway into the shop, a hazy mist collecting around its shape. From the darkness, Marie saw two long arms that sported long, black, spindly talons, and a face as dark and cold as death, with a gaping jaw fitted with three rows of jagged teeth. Marie gasped, but in the blink of an eye, the ghastly figure was traded for an unassuming, middle-aged man with tanned skin and graying hair.

“Joseph,” the man called out. The first customer turning around to face the man. “It’s time to go.” Joseph turned back to Marie, after having witnessed each of her expressions.

“I’ll keep in touch,” he said as he followed the man out of the shop. Madalena walked in from the office as he left.

“Who was that? He was kind of cute.”

Marie shook her head, still staring at the entrance, “I don’t know. . .” Her voice trailed off. What just happened? she thought, her limbs shaking as a cold shiver continued to go up and down her spine. What the hell is hiding in Lost Haven?