FunnyGuy

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Myriamor Plaza- Summer Harvest Festival
Interactions: Leaf @Helo, Sophie @princess, Aurora @Mole, Caelan @Alivefalling,
Mentions: Alette @princess

Equipment:

Pocket watch
Black stetson
Hat and Cowl
Black Duster Outfit
Repeating Crossbow
12 Iron Bolts
Champ (Oak Horse)
One-horse open sleigh
Hunting knife
Rope
Saddlebag
Black neckerchief
Tinder box
Canteen
Matches
Two Gold nuggets
$40

---

To the rear of the group Slick strolled along comfortably, guiding Champ by the reins through the outdoor market area that was hosting a festival. Slick could admit that the scenery was quite nice with its display of vibrant decorations and rich produce. That was all good and well, sure, but the drinks and gambling being offered are what the man out of the old west fancied.

Getting to know the rest of the folk in the group was also desired. The information Alette had provided was far more accurate than he initially thought. It helped that Leaf found confirmation in certain things the pixie alluded to, but Slick felt embellishment was afoot. Addin’ a lil’ bit of truth to a lie gave the lie somethin’ to stand on in the face of a skeptic. In any case, the man would get to know thr half of the group remaining in Myriamor.

The entire party appeared to be excited. The lovely Sophie was eyeing the pool filled with playing children, a yearning in her deep blue eyes. Alette had fancied herself enough to drink to make her a happy woman today and miserable one tomorrow.

“I want to go swimming and play games! What about you guys?” Slick noted Caelan’s liveliness and found it to be a good trait for one to have. A young man ready to engage life and experience the world around him. He found Leaf to be a bit like that as well.

“Would anyone like to try the Myriamor Mix? Made with the freshest fruit from the harvest. Do be advised as the liquor is quite strong.” Slick chuckled as he witnessed Caelan snatch himself up one of the drinks from the man serving them. He was a bit impressed to see the young man down the drink with ease and grab a second without a lick of hesitation. Slick could have watched what the Caelan was fixing to do next but the idea of free alcohol stole away his attention. Leaf speaking favorably of the Myriamor Mix only made it impossible to simply pass up. Then again, even if the drink tasted of piss he’d indulge. It didn’t cost a penny and a free drink was the best drink.

“My pleasure.” He smiled as he grabbed himself a drink with his free hand. Unlike Caelan, he took a sip to savor the taste of the beverage. “I’ll be damned.” He peered into the cup, shrugged, and chugged down the rest before taking another. The drink was absolutely delicious!

“Guys the swimsuits are five amas over there.” Caelan had informed.

“Seeing as how I am not a catfish I’ll have to pass. But the oasis here is the finest water in all of Avalia.”

“I’ll pass as well. I ain’t fixin’ to get wet and that water can stay fine right over there.” Slick was just about to take a sip of his second drink but stopped as his eyes caught Aurora with Alette using her hair as a plaything. Mighty close to that contagious blindness, ain’tcha? Slick shook his head at the pixie before approaching the noteworthy elf. The white of her hair and eyes, the paleness of her skin, and what he could gather from her nature so far gave off an air of both grace and delicacy.

“Auror-ra? I say that right? You fancy havin’ one of these drinks? I think everyone is in agreement that this here stuff is quite tasty.” Slick shrugged and chuckled at his own words. “Hell, who am I kiddin’, everything’s tasty here.” He offered the drink as a kind gesture, but also pitied the woman due to her affliction.

Marvel World War M

Vanquisher

Time: ERROR
Location: Quantico, Virginia
Interactions: Tori @Meleck
Mentions:

---

Vanquisher beelined through the sky towards the reported incident of a mutants terrorist targeting a passenger jet in the vicinity of Quantico, Virginia. As fast as Vanquisher was, it would take time for him to reach the incident. Sentinels would arrive on the scene first, but in that time he could digest the reporting as they came in. If the mutant was still standing upon arrival, Vanquisher would at least be prepared to face the threat.

Clint Eric Phillips. Male. 25. Caucasian. Mutant. Height. 73 inches. Weight. Approximately 200 pounds. Suspected Phoenix Order member or lone wolf Phoenix Order sympathizer. Unemployed. Fled authorities 48 hours ago after positive drug test results for X-Gene suppressing drug, Casper. Target’s last social media posts contain statements of having lost everything and intent to act like a monster with nothing to lose… Possession of the following mutations. Ambient energy projection. Self-propelled flight. Superhuman level physical conditioning….

---

Clint Phillips playing with his victims might have been godsent, as it only allowed Vanquisher to arrive at the airport as the mutant terrorist floated toward the flipped and burning aircraft on the airfield's taxiway. The robotic Ultimate had significantly lowered his altitude on approach to the airfield. No sentinels? Fine. The objective remains the same. Eliminate the target.

There were no words. No warning. Not a quip or introduction. No poses. Not even a grunt of vigor. And of course, there was no mercy.

Clint was currently elevated a few feet above the asphalt charging his hands up with energy. He aimed to kill off any surviving victims within the downed aircraft. He lost everything and was declared a monster. Now, Clint would show them one. A monster that had no qualms with killing to make things right. A monster that was cold and without a semblance of sympathy.

And a monster Vanquisher was.

With little loss in momentum, Vanquisher's large hands clutched the back of Clint's neck and slammed him face-first into the asphalt, the impact forming a crater. There was no pause in Vanquisher's actions. Why would there be? From a knelt position, Vanquisher repeatedly slammed Clint’s face into the ground and with his free hand he charged up a thermal beam for a concentrated attack. His free hand radiated with a bright orange glow, the light enveloping his hand.

Sufficient charge successful.

Vanquisher stood up, still holding Clint up by the nape of his neck. The towering machine easily held him above the ground. Clint’s battered face could barely be recognized as anything except ravaged flesh. Anyone lacking Clint’s durability would be dead after the initial face-first collision into the ground. Clint was alive, but his cervical spine had intentionally been severed by the blunt force of the repeated slams onto the asphalt. Clint could not move anymore… he could not see… he could not speak…

“You did have more to lose.” Vanquisher moved Clint so his body was facing away from the aircraft. Preventing further casualties than there already were was usually the goal if it could be helped. Once Vanquisher was in the clear, he fired a concentrated thermal beam, burning through Clint's back and out from his chest. Vanquisher dropped Clint who fell limp into the crater below. “Now you have lost everything.” His attention shifted to the burning aircraft. It was finally time to tend to the rescue of any survivors.

Marvel World War M

Isaac / Heat

Time: Morning
Location: South Bronx, NYC
Interactions: Rosalie @Wolvena
Mentions: Selena @Chulance

---

It’ll work! Primora! The timing is what gets her in! You’ll know when you meet her! Get to NYC! Help her! Help Primora!

Isaac briefly shook his head as he attempted to get the haunting message out of his head. The man was currently walking along the wide scuffed sidewalks of a low-income south Bronx residential area. He wore dark blue jeans, a white cotton t-shirt, a black hoodie, and black sneakers. The scenery around him wasn’t much to look at. The faded brown project buildings towered up twenty stories scattered amongst old parks, corner stores, and food joints. Unlike downtown Manhattan, this part of the city wasn’t so bustling and it made more sense to use a personal vehicle to get around. Sure, at night you ran the risk of getting your car broken into if you happened to leave anything of interest inside. Then again, one could argue it was better than getting jumped or held up for all your possessions while walking around during that same time. Isaac walked. He wasn’t fearful, never looked like an easy target, and of course he concealed-carried a Glock 17 given to him by the Order the first day he was assigned to the city.

The thought of informing Selena of the mental message he had received from the future crossed his mind nearly every day, but part of him didn’t believe it. In this world it was fairly likely, but the world ending in several months just didn’t seem possible. Even if he did fully believe it, how could he inform Selena that their mission fails. That the Phoenix was not able to save their Order. If it’s the future, how is placing some woman on the enemy’s side a benefit? And why me? Wha-

A shot rang out, causing him to look in the direction of it. It was fairly closeby, but Isaac knew that surviving these streets meant you minded your own business. He figured it was a warning shot if anything. He continued on, but after several more strides, a second shot rang out. He normally wouldn’t care, but he was itching for a bit of action. He hadn’t been permitted to assist the Order in rescuing Travis due to his abilities still being “under review.”

A third shot rang out. It warranted his full attention.

“Third time’s the charm.” Isaac muttered as he walked briskly in the direction of the gunfire. He didn’t notice anyone picking up their phone to dial for the police. Typical New York… Works for me, though. He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

“I see a nail salon, drug store, and that damned chicken spot.”

“But here I go, headed for that third fired gunshot,” Isaac said under his breath. Suddenly, his intuition pulled him in the direction of the disturbance after mumbling his rhyme. He probably could have found his way by weaving through the area but getting lost in this part of the Bronx would only spell trouble for him, even with his powers. He strolled into an alley between some beat-up buildings where he could hear an exchange between two people.

“You’re going to regret doing that.”

“What are you doing?! Stop!”

Isaac arrived to see a man buried up to his neck in sand and a woman standing over him clutching her shoulder. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who was shot at. To Isaac, the scene before him appeared to be mutant discrimination at its finest. Makes sense. We’re the less than. He was sure the buried asshole antagonized the woman with the gun sprawled on the floor and she finally had enough after he shot her. Three shots rang, but the woman was holding just her shoulder with no other blatant gunshot wounds. Isaac assumed the woman was one of those soft mutants, like the ones that were part of the Underground. They were the types that held back in the face of humankind. Why should the powerful tiptoe around the powerless?

“You gonna bury him or what? It doesn’t matter how much you scare him, he’ll tell people what you are.” Isaac figured his sudden arrival would startle the woman, so he approached slowly with a calm expression. He didn’t like fighting his own kind. “I mean, if you’re not about it…” Isaac strolled past Rosalie and crouched down in front of Colby’s head. “I can make him forget.”

Marvel World War M

Isaac Washington

Name: Isaac Washington
Codename: Heat
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Height: 6’1
Weight: 190lbs
Ethnicity: Black American
Sexual Orientation: Hetero
Religion: Agnostic
Occupation: Phoenix Order member

Powers/Abilities: Vocifery - Issac possesses the ability to utilize his voice in order to bend and warp reality. It would seem like he’d literally command the world with simply his voice, but this ability has its limitations. Issac is unable to manipulate the physical state of another, so directly inducing sickness or death to another is not possible. Also, when speaking he needs to rhyme his sentence in a rhythmic way that fits the context of whatever situation he’s in. He can't make a whale appear out of thin air in the middle of the city, but he could weaken the supports in a building and make it crumble on top of an enemy. He can use his power to alter himself physically, but it is based on his own knowledge and imagination. For instance, he could proclaim to be a god, but due to not knowing of the One Above All, he might just default to the power level of someone like Thor, a god, or what he’s witnessed Thor do.

Background: Isaac was born a mutant, but his X-Gene hadn’t surfaced until he reached his late teenage years, or perhaps his ability just hadn’t been noticed until then. His mutation was quite specific and he was born mute, he’d only have to look to his father when it pertained to mutant genes. Despite the world becoming more ethnically progressive, mutant kind were treating as second class citizens.

There were those that endured the hate and discrimination, but Isaac’s parents werent the type. When the Dark Phoenix arrived to liberate mutant kind, Isaac’s parents stood behind the movement. The likes of Charles Xavier had tried so long to have mutants be equal, but did so by constantly taking the the short end. Enough was enough. Just as the neanderthals faded from existence, so would the inferior humans. Mutants just needed to take their rightful place at the top of the food chain, and the Dark Phoenix had made it possible… at least for a time. Her death was one that should have broken the Phoenix Order, but hope prevailed in those that truly believed in the nature of the phoenix. It would return in time, and this time it wouldn’t be alone at the start.

Isaac grew up, supporting the Phoenix Order for as long as he could remember. Without his mutation, he did what he could. He fit into any busy work he could, a hard thing to accomplish when you were in the company of superpowered people. It were his dedication and initiative that put him the good graces of many in the order despite his lack of powers. He was told by the optimists that his mutation was there and he probably just needed to stumble upon it. Perhaps it was resurrection, immortality, or ability to speak to a specific creature he hadn’t come into contact with yet. They were possibilities, but Isaac was comfortable with what he had. He drove, delivered items and messages, organized items, entertained the young, cared for the old, spoke to the troubled, and if all else failed he was great company.

His father however, Robert Washington, was a true fighter using sonic abilities to conduct attacks on the enemy and help to actively support the cause. He was older, but that meant he was just more experienced with his abilities. A true gem amongst those in the order, so it was a dark day when died when ambushed during a sting operation conducted by the MRD. Avenging his father wasn’t a possibility. Not without powers. The worst part was that he didn’t think he could fill his father’s shoes. It wasn’t until he had given his father’s eulogy that his powers presented themselves. He had written in a poetic format with rhyme. Selene had approached him that very day and asked him if he wanted to make his father proud by serving the Phoenix Order in a different way than he had previously. To use his gift to change the world so it is prepared for the new Phoenix to arrive. All she asked was that he hone his gift, and she would allow Isaac to continue where his father left off.

Isaac did just that. He gained an understanding of his mutation, but also found it to be quite volatile. In the heat of the moment, he could say the wrong thing, become tongue-twisted, or simply lose his train of thought. This ability only worked based on how well he delivered his words and practicing that took time. He started by writing certain things down so he could just read off a paper, but he also found that limiting. If the context of the situation was different, then he’d be unable to aid his allies or save himself. Freestyling soon became his mode of using his strange ability. It was more difficult, but far more versatile.

Things seemed to be picking up until he received a vision from seemingly his future self. It was odd, as he was given vague directions. He was warned about KIVA being the larger threat and how he needed to help some woman infiltrate the Ultimates. It’ll work! Primora! The timing is what gets her in! You’ll know when you meet her! Get to NYC! Help her! Help Primora!

Isaac didn’t have much to go off on except knowing he had to venture to NYC and he’d meet a woman. He requested he be allowed to operate within a cell of the Phoenix Order in the Big Apple, and in a week’s time he was there. Based in the Bronx, but operating within downtown Manhattan. He had been recently tasked with staking out Oscorp for a rescue mission of Selena’s closest partner, Travis. He did not partake in the attack, but best believe he wished he had. Any chance to hit the MRD or the Ultimates would be a grand time to be alive.

Marvel World War M

Isaac Washington

Name: Isaac Washington
Codename: Heat
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Height: 6’1
Weight: 190lbs
Ethnicity: Black American
Sexual Orientation: Hetero
Religion: Agnostic
Occupation: Phoenix Order member

Powers/Abilities: Vocifery - Issac possesses the ability to utilize his voice in order to bend and warp reality. It would seem like he’d literally command the world with simply his voice, but this ability has its limitations. Issac is unable to manipulate the physical state of another, so directly inducing sickness or death to another is not possible. Also, when speaking he needs to rhyme his sentence in a rhythmic way that fits the context of whatever situation he’s in. He can't make a whale appear out of thin air in the middle of the city, but he could weaken the supports in a building and make it crumble on top of an enemy. He can use his power to alter himself physically, but it is based on his own knowledge and imagination. For instance, he could proclaim to be a god, but due to not knowing of the One Above All, he might just default to the power level of someone like Thor, a god, or what he’s witnessed Thor do.

Background: Isaac was born a mutant, but his X-Gene hadn’t surfaced until he reached his late teenage years, or perhaps his ability just hadn’t been noticed until then. His mutation was quite specific and he was born mute, he’d only have to look to his father when it pertained to mutant genes. Despite the world becoming more ethnically progressive, mutant kind were treating as second class citizens.

There were those that endured the hate and discrimination, but Isaac’s parents werent the type. When the Dark Phoenix arrived to liberate mutant kind, Isaac’s parents stood behind the movement. The likes of Charles Xavier had tried so long to have mutants be equal, but did so by constantly taking the the short end. Enough was enough. Just as the neanderthals faded from existence, so would the inferior humans. Mutants just needed to take their rightful place at the top of the food chain, and the Dark Phoenix had made it possible… at least for a time. Her death was one that should have broken the Phoenix Order, but hope prevailed in those that truly believed in the nature of the phoenix. It would return in time, and this time it wouldn’t be alone at the start.

Isaac grew up, supporting the Phoenix Order for as long as he could remember. Without his mutation, he did what he could. He fit into any busy work he could, a hard thing to accomplish when you were in the company of superpowered people. It were his dedication and initiative that put him the good graces of many in the order despite his lack of powers. He was told by the optimists that his mutation was there and he probably just needed to stumble upon it. Perhaps it was resurrection, immortality, or ability to speak to a specific creature he hadn’t come into contact with yet. They were possibilities, but Isaac was comfortable with what he had. He drove, delivered items and messages, organized items, entertained the young, cared for the old, spoke to the troubled, and if all else failed he was great company.

His father however, Robert Washington, was a true fighter using sonic abilities to conduct attacks on the enemy and help to actively support the cause. He was older, but that meant he was just more experienced with his abilities. A true gem amongst those in the order, so it was a dark day when died when ambushed during a sting operation conducted by the MRD. Avenging his father wasn’t a possibility. Not without powers. The worst part was that he didn’t think he could fill his father’s shoes. It wasn’t until he had given his father’s eulogy that his powers presented themselves. He had written in a poetic format with rhyme. Selene had approached him that very day and asked him if he wanted to make his father proud by serving the Phoenix Order in a different way than he had previously. To use his gift to change the world so it is prepared for the new Phoenix to arrive. All she asked was that he hone his gift, and she would allow Isaac to continue where his father left off.

Isaac did just that. He gained an understanding of his mutation, but also found it to be quite volatile. In the heat of the moment, he could say the wrong thing, become tongue-twisted, or simply lose his train of thought. This ability only worked based on how well he delivered his words and practicing that took time. He started by writing certain things down so he could just read off a paper, but he also found that limiting. If the context of the situation was different, then he’d be unable to aid his allies or save himself. Freestyling soon became his mode of using his strange ability. It was more difficult, but far more versatile.

Things seemed to be picking up until he received a vision from seemingly his future self. It was odd, as he was given vague directions. He was warned about KIVA being the larger threat and how he needed to help some woman infiltrate the Ultimates. It’ll work! Primora! The timing is what gets her in! You’ll know when you meet her! Get to NYC! Help her! Help Primora!

Isaac didn’t have much to go off on except knowing he had to venture to NYC and he’d meet a woman. He requested he be allowed to operate within a cell of the Phoenix Order in the Big Apple, and in a week’s time he was there. Based in the Bronx, but operating within downtown Manhattan. He had been recently tasked with staking out Oscorp for a rescue mission of Selena’s closest partner, Travis. He did not partake in the attack, but best believe he wished he had. Any chance to hit the MRD or the Ultimates would be a grand time to be alive.

Marvel World War M

Vanquisher

Time: Ehhhh
Location: Downtown, NYC
Interactions:
Mentions: Selena @Chulance

---

By the time Vanquisher arrived on the scene, the Phoenix Order leader known as Selena Nadarista had dismantled all three ultimates that had arrived. Hyperion, Agatha Harkness, and Ares were all defeated due to the mutant’s might. Vanquisher and the sentinels flying alongside him backed away as the tendrils of darkness shot out with Selena’s destructive exit.

“Sh- This situation on site is not favorable. Three ultimates were defeated and Phoenix order managed to escape and severely damage Oscorp. It is likely the physical prototype formula for the cure to the X-gene has been destroyed… Sentinels, begin recovery of any useful assets and destroy the rogue automated units. Prioritize Oscorp and the prototype cure. Leave the civilians to the local emergency units.” Vanquisher looked upon the destruction, appearing to scan the area to collect data on the events that occurred. With Hyperion, Ares, Agatha, and Brock currently out of commission, that left few Ultimates present in the city or even on the planet due to Danvers and Sentry currently being off-world. He himself wouldn’t be enough to face off against the Phoenix Order that had now obtained their second in command and more abilities to add into Selena Nadarista’s arsenal. He could have joined the sentinels in their search, but deemed the task as being too lowly. Without allowing another idle second pass, Vanquisher took off into the skies to focus his attention on another incident in Quantico, Virginia. Vanquisher needed more… more of him, but it was not yet a possibility… not yet.

“Fuck.”

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Aldrakh
Interactions: Myra @13org, Maeryn @princess
Mentions:

Equipment:

Outfit (left)

---

Astra watched Myra in anticipation while Vrexen watched from the corner of his eye. His curiosity had grown towards Myra’s ability to speak but he’d never make that obvious. Astra was far more invested, as she should have been. Myra being able to speak with fluidity would open countless opportunities herself and better yet, for Astra. She leaned in closer to Myra when the demon showcased a look of determination.

Confidence!
Conviction

The two were indeed impressed, even when Myra spoke in a broken tongue. Vrexen found Myra's attempt at a purchase adequate due to her getting her point across. Astra wouldn't be so easily satisfied. Full sentences out of Myra were the goal for Astra. With enough time, she wouldn't need Vrexen and his savage nature.

Astra and Vrexen might have supervised the rest of Myra's transaction, but the approach of a well-dressed dark elven male grabbed their attention. Unlike the other dark elves in the market, he was not sporting a military uniform. In fact, Astra found the dark elf to be rather dashing. She smiled and brushed away any strands of hair from her face. His interest was in her company, but the dark elf was addressing her.

“Well, yes. The Twin-” Astra felt a large hand grasp her shoulder and guide her aside. “Ugh.” She simply scowled at Vrexen, not having any other option in protesting his actions.

“Move.” Vrexen stepped forward to address the stranger who voiced an interest in his kind. Enough to approach in an attempt to feed his curiosity, or perhaps it was something more than just that. He sized up the stranger some, peering at the elf briefly without uttering a word. “Your magic… It’s dense.” He glanced at Astra, silently comparing the two before he finally answered the dark elf. “Your twin heads summoned seven of my siblings. Each powerful in their own right…”

“What’s your interest in them, anyway? You don’t appear to be a soldier unless military officers had their uniforms upgraded to make them more attractive conquerors.” Astra chuckled. She glanced back at Myra, seeing that the orc had actually been quite fair to her in giving her the difference back with three gold amas. The shopkeeper handed Myra her purchase with a stone-faced expression but cracked a small grin at her when he believed no one else was looking.

₁₇

Young Justice

Location: ATL
Interactions: Aleen'a @baraquiel

---

Seeing Atlantis and it's remarkable architecture drew Viktor's attention. He'd never say its but he found the city he looked upon to be rather beautiful, enchanting even. As the submarine got ready to dock, Viktor got up from his seat and visually inspected his equipment before placing on his visored helmet. He understood he'd have to move and possibly fight differently here, but nevertheless he was ready.

When Dr. Bingley presented his work, curiosity struck Viktor. It was as if Dr. Bingley was slowly unraveling the truth of what his research was. In a different capacity, Viktor might have interrogated the scientist. Still, he wanted to know how his "cure" worked, especially with no side effects listed. Unfortunately for Viktor and anyone else desiring to know more, the presentation was interrupted by news of an attack by the Deluge. I just hope a squid's not involved for this team's sake.

Kassy sprung into action once more, directing the team on their delegated tasks. His eyes landed on Aleen'a who he was paired up with and gave her a single nod of acknowledgment. Power and strength was on their side, but he was well aware of the Tamaranian using the device meant to assist in maintaining her power on Daphne.

“Brightheart, I'll take the lead. You conserve your energy for when we truly need it.” He wanted to announce this up front just in case the pair didn't get another chance to assign their roles. Of all the members of his team, Viktor was most comfortable being paired with her.

He wasn't really on speaking terms with Zach.

He's never gotten along with Talon.

Alisa was likely upset with what had said before the squid was killed by Dr. Bingley.

Daphne was uncomfortable from their recent discussion… Even more so than she normally was.

Ja was in a grievous state over the squid, a creature he had taken responsibility for killing.

Kass… he knew how Kass currently thought of him.

…..

…..

…..

Oh, and Dr. Bingley. Viktor never enjoyed being in the presence of that man.

Code Vein (Closed)

ERIK

---

---

E R I K

---

---

| AGE |

“I guess if my math’s right… 77. It’s still a bit hard to get used to not aging…"

| APPEARANCE |

Erik stands at 6ft 1in, weighing approximately 200lbs. His skin holds a dark complexion that paints his athletic-toned physique. Upon his head is a bundle of straight white dyed hair, a look he maintains in a world where people can easily forget who he is. The man’s logic is if he has features that stand out to others, he’ll be easier to remember. Though he’s unsure if this actually works, thinking that it does is enough to keep him faithful to his appearance. The thing people will truly remember is that smile of his. Even in some of the toughest of times, he keeps it almost painted over his face. It can be seen as him being optimistic, but it’s more of his way of saying “everything will be okay.”

When it comes to attire, Erik usually wears black because he believes it makes people look thinner and it matches with all manner of occasions and dress. When traveling through the Lost infested city, Erik simply wears leather that also allows him to move freely. Armor isn’t something he invests in due to his blood type. During leisure, Erik can be spotted dressing in formal attire but made to be comfortable. A few buttons undone, sleeves rolled up past the elbow, or maybe even the wrong type of shoes. It speaks volumes about his personality. Neat, but not standard.

| PERSONALITY |

Confident, Kind, Passionate, Stubborn, Unconventional

| BLOOD CODE / TYPE |

APOLLO / O - Erik possesses the ability to create barriers due to his blood type but has found an interesting way to utilize this ability. Like others with the O blood type, Erik is capable of creating wall and dome-shaped barriers for protection and to limit the advancement of his foes. The most intricate part of his barrier conjuration is his ability to shape these projections of energy. The smaller the barrier construct, the easier it is to manipulate. So much so, that he can coat his blades with his barriers to increase their durability. Erik can also augment the nature of his strikes in this way, making them sharper or duller, the latter being an easier feat. Erik’s most cherished use of his ability besides protection would have to be his ability to shape his barriers into arrow-shaped constructs to serve as ammunition for his ranged attacks. It’s not out of the ordinary to spot the man playing with a small barrier in his hands to pass time. His barriers manipulation and potency seem to take away from the length of time he can keep them projected. Erik has noted seeing others of his blood type maintaining barriers for much longer durations than himself while he uses his own to make quick constructs for the set moment in time rather than for sustained use. His barriers are gold and appear as if kissed by flames.

| BACKGROUND |

“I don't know whether or not I’m lucky to remember a time before the Great Collapse. Many parts of what I can recall of the world before then are hazy and fragmented. It's fond to think back on what once was, but it's haunting too... You know, I wasn’t traditionally a man of arms. Not back then. But I did fight during the event that caused the Great Collapse. Everything was a mess. I enlisted in some kind of militia. I volunteered to fight for those who weren’t able to. I want to believe I had a family, but…”

“The only family I can remember are the ones I fought alongside during the calamity. Thinking about it now versus then is kinda funny. I was so sure we could we'd conquer the world… at least in the way we were. As humans.”

“I don’t remember how I died, but waking up was a trip. The people around me were the same people I was fighting next to! I didn’t even realize we died until the woman in the white lab coat told us we were no longer regular humans. Revenants. First-generation at that. Then I remember things having to adjust to how the world was now… I can't remember how I even adjust. Just one extreme to another. The world was destroyed and we had BOR parasites in our chests that made us immortal. We'd become powerful in so many ways but there were a few downsides… The frenzies… That was… It was crazy to watch people you knew completely lose themselves. Lost. The name's fitting. They were us without being who they once were... and they’d always come back. Always…”

“After the Great Collapse, it was just us surviving and fighting back the Lost in a ruined city… There was someone… they kept me afloat in a world that was drowning everyone…... But I don't remember who it is. I remember so many other things and I have found some of my own vestiges in the past several decades but whoever it is that gave me the drive to keep moving forward and the owner of this blade... I can’t remember them, but I’m sure whoever they are, they had a huge impact on my life… That’s my greatest fear. Not to forget, but to be forgotten to someone who needs to remember me. Every moment is precious and I want to make sure I only leave memorable ones for those I meet… It’s a bit self-righteous, huh?”

“I left Cerberus after that. I wanted to help people out in my own way instead of following orders. This city is small and not the safest, but I managed to make several decades a journey. I met a lot of different people and saw places I didn’t think could exist. Sure, I still had to fight the Lost, but I was a whole lot freer. I lost some good memories here and there, but made some new ones too.”

“Then I found a group a few years back. A good one, too. I worked with others here and there over the decades. It’s hard not to with how powerful some of the Lost are out there. Anyway, I really like who I’m joined up with now and I can’t wait to experience all the memories we’ll make."

| SKILLS / EQUIPMENT |

☀️ MARKSMAN: Whether bow or rifle, Erik possesses an aptitude for ranged combat. Along with the rest of his repertoire, he finds he's best placed at a middle range.

☀️ SWORDSMAN - Once Erik gained enhanced physical prowess from becoming a revenant, he decided to add swordsmanship to his combat. Though he carries two swords, he only ever uses the one depicting half of a sun on it. He claims the other unused sword brings him luck.

☀️ SCAVENGER - Erik has been around long enough to know where to scavenge. The man has an eye for useful resources, even things that can be repurposed for other uses.

☀️ HANDY-MAN - Erik isn't a professional mechanic, blacksmith, or armorer, but he's decent with his hands and willing to patchwork something back together or make a funky-looking gizmo in place of something that was lost or broken. With the right tools and parts, he can repair most things for at least temporary use.

☀️ NAVIGATOR - Erik doesn't just know the ruined city well, he knows how to move through it. He knows where Lost are likely to gather and has knowledge of temporary safe spots to catch your breath. His navigation skills also include his ability to move through the city fluidly. This is a benefit for quick escapes or swift advances.

| LIMITATIONS AND WEAKNESSES |

LIMITATIONS:
☀️ Erik’s barriers are as spontaneous as he is. They don’t remain up for long which requires him to constantly summon/cast them if he is aiming for long-term usage. It works well with keeping him from getting complacent, but the guy can’t even take a moment to relax under the protection of his own barriers.

☀️ Erik suffers from a sort of restlessness in his desire to try to be the big brother of the group. This can leave him tired despite the bombastic air about him.

WEAKNESSES:
☀️ Erik’s optimism can sometimes be a hindrance in planning and action when it comes to others. Erik’s “glass is half full” mentality can cause him to be complacent in planning and preparation. He sees others as their best selves. Sometimes it works in motivating his allies, but it can also lead to disappointing results.

☀️ Erik is prone to being overworked even if he doesn’t show it. He’s a powerful ally to have fighting alongside you, but he’ll try to pull his weight, your weight, and the other guy’s too.

| NOTES |

Erik is often the first to wake for the day and the last to turn in for the night. He’s quite open and nothing is off-limits during a discussion. He thinks the Sidhe are probably the coolest thing he’s come across post the Great Collapse.

Erik has an old worn leather wallet. Inside is a photo ID, a few dollar bills, a credit card, and a slip of paper with writing that simply reads “keep your heart”

Erik's Friends 😁

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E R I K

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Role in the team: The Zany Geezer

💔 Ex-friends/lovers/enemies
💛🤍🤍🤍 Neutral
💛💛🤍🤍 Acquaintances
💛💛💛🤍 Friends
💛💛💛💛 Close friends
❤️‍🔥 Lovers

Dallas

💛💛🤍🤍
“Dallas. He’s pretty new here. Oh, cool name by the way. I… I think I remember a place with that name. Anyway, I think he’s going to fit in just fine here even though seems lost to himself. AB types are usually tough and pull their own weight, but they often have a soft spot somewhere. Someone will find it… Y’know, I think under different circumstances I might have lost as many memories as this guy… I want to get to know him, but how much does he even know of himself?”

Ionna

💛💛🤍🤍
She’s new. Ajax seems drawn towards her which will help bring her into the fold. I give her a warm greeting whenever I’ve seen her. Then again, I do that with everyone. Being in the body of a young girl for the rest of her life has to be tough”

Ajax

💛💛💛💛
“Ajax?! Where to start? Did you know he and I served together in Cerberus? Impressive huh? I thought the sword aesthetic was a bit extra at first, but after fighting the Lost for some time it made sense to use a blade when out on our patrols... Some of my combat is based on what he taught me and I really can’t thank the guy enough for that.”

“It’s hard to believe miasma can have such a weird effect on someone so level-headed. I haven’t seen Ajax’s miasma rage, and I think I want to keep it that way. It’s hard enough knowing that he’s forever searching for someone dear to him. Whether memory or in the flesh, I want him to find her.”

“I can’t remember who said it, but apparently he keeps me balanced and out of too much trouble. True or not, it’s great having a friend like him around.”

Akaia

💛💛💛🤍
“The first Sidhe I ever met! I had so many questions, but she didn’t have too many answers. At least not verbally. Despite her lack of words, I think she enjoys being in the company of others. Not only that but she’s been incredibly helpful in many of our scouting and scavenging operations. Sure, I wish she would talk more, but she tries and that’s all I could ask for.”

Lysandra

💛💛💛💛
“You know at first I wasn’t sure Lys liked me much. Didn’t laugh at my jokes. Didn’t say ‘good’ in her greetings of the day. A smile? I’m not even sure Cerise could have found one on that woman’s face… As the paragon of optimism and persistence, it didn’t deter me in the slightest from trying to befriend her. Plus, we had to share the same workspace haha… But honestly, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. We just… talked.”

“A lot of others might not recognize it, but Lys is extremely helpful. Her delivery isn’t always the best but whatever you get from her whether it be a gadget or advice is always top of the line. That means she cares. At least I believe so.”

“If Ajax keeps me from being erratic, Lys definitely keeps me from being a fool. I bounce ideas off of her that occasionally get shut down. Sometimes it's funny. All in all, her genius and her passion add immeasurable value to our group.”

Vincent

💛💛🤍🤍
“Another new member. I like his spirit so far! Can’t wait to see what he can do!”

Desmond

💛💛🤍🤍
“This guy showed up with his sister a few weeks ago. Most think mortality is always a weakness but I’ve seen the way the guy moves in combat. He leans on the fact that he won’t heal like or come back to life like a revenant.”

“The way he cares for his sister and wanting to be useful around the Crow’s Nest until she wakes makes me think he’s a commendable guy… Oh, and I dig the eyepatch.”

Cerise

💛💛💛💛
“Not sure who’s the brightest ray of sunshine between Cerise and I, but she’d probably just say it’s me with how modest she is. In truth, she’s the most approachable in our little group and puts effort within and outside of the Crow’s Nest. The lady dedicated part of her living space to serve as a map of the city!”

“I haven’t told her, but the way she affirms the world recovering from the Great Collapse and the Lost keeps me hopeful. My secret source of motivation!”

Poppy

💛💛💛🤍
“Pops has to be the most challenging person I’ve ever tried to connect to. And it’s not a me thing, trust me. She’s been with us a while but tries to keep me and most people at a distance. I mean she gets the job done and is always willing to address anyone’s medical concerns, but that’s it. I consider Pops a friend and I want to get her to open up as a personal project of mine, but the girl doesn’t budge.”

Sasha, the Other Founder

Sasha, a blood type B revenant that could trace her revival as a revenant as far back as Erik and Ajax could. If she was being honest, she couldn’t even remember that far back. There were inklings of her previous life, but nothing she could pin down. However, instead of mulling about her past, the woman focused on the present. She couldn’t tell you if the world would go back to the way it was, but she could damn sure tell you that her current situation would improve as long as she had a say in it.

Like many of the long-lived revenants, Sasha was formerly a member of Cerberus. She enjoyed the time she spent with the militarized revenant units but it was a mission that went south that led to her first serious dispersal. The confusion and loss of memories only walked her into a second dispersal that put her in a state where it almost seemed impossible for her to find her way out of the Ruined City. Running into others who had been wandering the ruins had helped her some. It had also hindered her some as well. It was cutthroat out there, especially when she was traveling solo for so long.

When Sasha learned of the observatory, a location that could prove to be a safehouse, she moved to take it. Many revenants steered clear of the location due to the number of Lost occupying the area but Sasha knew the shelter’s worth. She fought… and she dispersed against the number of Lost and some were quite powerful. The real issue was that she was alone trying to go head first against an enemy that had her outnumbered.

“I think we can take it. Come on! You and me, we got this.”

Erik.

A man she thought might be just as stubborn and hardheaded as she was. She wanted the observatory, couldn’t do it alone, and no one else was optimistic (or foolish) enough to help her. Besides, Erik was ex-Cerberus with far more memories intact. It had been a long morning, but also a successful one as the two took the hill and the observatory. And then they took it again… and again… and again. Each time the two coordinated their assaults against the Lost that continued to return as they materialized. It had taken a few months, but the duo managed to push away the regeneration points of the Lost. With the observatory taken, they both agreed to claim it as theirs. It was its vastness and many rooms that made Erik consider taking others in while Sasha was wholeheartedly against the idea.

“We took this place, so we get to keep it. We can’t open up these doors to the world out there… I can’t.”

Sasha might have even kicked him out, but the two had fought alongside each other for weeks. The smiling revenant seemed as if he didn’t have a nefarious bone in his body. A rare soul within this ruined world. Besides, holding the observatory alone wouldn’t be feasible. With just two was pushing it. Erik reluctantly agreed not to disagree… for a time. Every few days or so, Erik subtly brought up the tender topic of inviting newcomers. As stubborn about it as he could be, the decision to keep others out stuck…
Two manning the fort was no picnic. Someone was always meant to be awake as the two couldn’t afford to be ambushed, especially when the observatory lacked any kind of refurbishing.

Then along came Wilson. The man had the habit of arriving at the right place at the right time. He had the pleasure of meeting Erik first and was seeking shelter during a time when Sasha was slumbering after a night watch. Erik welcomed the human in who proceeded to tidy things up that had never been given attention by the two revenants. So much so, that it was difficult for Sasha to bring herself to kick him out once she woke.

“You’re just a human anyway. Keep doing stuff like this and you’ve earned yourself a space… And Erik. No more!”

She didn’t mind Wilson, in fact, she found him to be a needed help. He cleaned, prepared meals, and always had an idea that helped make the Observatory the gem it is today. With Erik’s persistence and Wilson’s usefulness, it wasn’t too difficult to sell adding Ajax to the group. She almost hated that Erik was slowly getting what he wanted, but she also started warming up to the idea of being part of a group where each member pulled their own weight.

“He keeps to himself and you trust him. You got yourself quite the group. You should name it… Uh, better yet, I think I’ll name it to save us all the dignity.”

Sasha watched as Cerise joined, the sweetest of people. Then Akaia, the first sidhe she had met since the Collapse. Every person was another great addition to the Commune. That she could not disagree, even if she wanted to wipe that damned smile off of Erik’s face. Despite her acceptance, she still kept herself closed off. A cranky, take charge, and sometimes friendly old lady. She often accompanied Erik on scouting missions. Most were successful, and a few were disappointing but there only needed to be one with a fatal conclusion.

To be there at the start yet be unafforded the opportunity to see the Commune thrive as it does today. Like a dark twist of one of her playful desires, she managed to see Erik fail to keep up that smile of his.

“Erik... Erik, smile. Come on. You got this… For me. For everyone, just smile…”

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Aldrakh
Interactions: Myra @13org
Mentions:

Equipment:

Outfit (left)

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“Amas…” Vrexen inspected the shiny coin that was used as this world’s currency. It held no physical power or use. It was surprisingly very notional. From Vrexen’s perspective the amas’ worth was simply declared and not earned. It was something that could be manipulated by those with the majority of the wealth. Even so, pain and fear also existed in this world. It was a means to bypass the use of the currency, though there were a number of safeguards as Astra had previously pointed out. With enough raw power however, currency could be made moot. Amas was quantifiable, but fear was not. In the end Vrexen would grant this lesson to the world.

The trio headed into the market area of Aldrakh, The goal was to spend amas to get a feel for it, but to also prepare for the journey ahead. According to Astra’s map, they expected to head westbound, but anything was possible. Myra had led the group to a stall with a chaotic set up of wares. Vrexen was slightly proud of Myra for choosing such a disorderly shop. It was the epitome of chaos.

Meanwhile Astra was just glad Myra was attempting to use her ama. There was just one problem, however. Myra was trying to make a purchase without a single word being exchanged. Orcs were brutes, sure, but they were a vocal bunch. They always had something to say and normally didn’t let things go unsaid. Wants, needs, complaints, ideas, and expressions were all laid out there for people to know. The most transparent race on Avalia, and Astra dug that shit.

The awkwardness of the exchange was even picked up by Vrexen who narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Myra trying to make a wordless purchase.

“Myra.”
“Myra.”

The two flinched some at their ditto moment before Astra stepped forward.

“Myra, you gotta say something. Didn’t you learn anything when we were hanging out together?” She asked gently. She didn’t want to reprimand Myra for simply being the nonverbal deadly adorable ball of ignorance that she was. “I’ll make it easy for you to follow. Repeat after me, okay? Ahem… I want to buy this. How much?” Astra said to the orc

Vrexen looked upon his ama, not really wanting anything at the stall. There not a thing that caught his eye. Weapons and armor were not his thing and everything else on display in the market were utterly useless to him. He flipped his ama and kept it in his clutches

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