Hellis

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

The Chosen Redneck is now fully realized. One of the goofieer things I've written

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

@JamesMuddy accepted.

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

@Noxious Accepted. Fucking wierdos.

Mass Effect: Borealis

The Giftening Part 3

@Rtron-@Hellis

Serena rounded the corner, looking up from making sure that the two boxes she had were for Drono. ”Hey Drono ho-fuck! What happened to you?! She hurried over to the drell, eyes wide with concern. ”You look like you got mugged! What the hell happened? She put her boxes to the side as she looked him over, seeing if she had to drag him to a hospital before he bled out on her or not.

Drono, startled at Serena’s sudden appearance and the sudden need for a good excuse to not put Vellios in the doghouse for all of eternity, grinned. “Oh you know. Nature.” He said, completely aloof. “Just a few branches, took a tumble.” He continued, trailing off as he saw the packages.

“Did I order something?” He asked, a bit nonplussed.

Serena narrowed her eyes at him. ”Weird. Branches don’t usually leave marks like that. Not wanting to pursue the topic, yet, she hefted the packages. ”Nope! I got you a couple gifts.” She handed him both of the packages before she could think about it and get embarrassed and anxious.

The expected wave of embarrassment and anxiousness washed over her as he took them. She shifted back a couple steps. ”So..yeah. Open them just in case I got you shit gifts and need to return them and buy better ones. She mumbled, a light blush crossing her cheeks.

He blinked up at her. A wave of different, greatly conflicting feelings rushed him. “For me?” He said, with a confused, startled emphasis on the word 'me'. His hands actually shook as he took them. He somehow made the tremors stop, he wasn’t sure if it was because he felt overwhelmed, or the pain from Vellios beating, or his spine. But this was without a doubt something that actually meant a great deal to him. He never got presents, his relationships with other people rarely being that friendly anymore. Even before getting double crossed, he had been stealing most of his possessions. And the last person to give him a gift had been Yestin.

He banished that thought as quickly as it appeared. These were not the same kind of people.

Serena looked up in confusion.”Of course for you. Why wouldn’t it be for you?”

Instead, he closed his eyes and let it reminded him of back home. Back when he had been just another bored Drell kid. He shot her a massive smile then opened the first. “Oh. Haha.” He said, but the mirth was unmistaken. “Would you believe I managed to turn the last of these books I had, into napalm?” He said as he held up the book. “Hmm. New issue?” He said, looking seriously pleased with the turn of events. Looking at the other present, his grin grew conspicuous.

Serena grinned ruefully back at the drell, pleased he was enjoying his gift. ”I could easily believe that. Try not to turn this one into napalm too quickly. I think it’s a new issue. The guy assured me it was top of the line.”

“I think the the others might space you for giving me things that go Boom.” He said without even having to open it. “Our secret?”

Serena held out her pinky finger, smiling conspiratorially. ” Our secret. Pinky promise.”

“Ah. Now it is a double secret. Vellios would never let me live it down if I pinky promised like some adolescent human” Drono chuckled. Today had been a weird day, but it had certainly been a better day then he had thought. He looked around, then stashed the explosives somewhere he figured nobody would look. Then he hooked his finger with Serena. “I have been told by Humans, this is a sacred ritual. “ He said with a perfect deadpan. “Broken only at penalty of losing your pinky”

“Oh yes. The most sacred of rituals. Pinkys are usually ripped off by a rapid varren.” Serena replied solemnly, shaking his pinky. She grinned mischievously at him. ”I’ll let you in on a little secret about Vellios though. Earlier today, he pinky promised as well. Without me even asking for it! If he gives you any crap, just throw that back in his face as well.” She snickered.

Suddenly, her pinky tightened on Drono’s, trapping his. ”Now. You’re going to tell me who beat you the hell up, and why. Or so help me Drono I will break your spine and drag you too that damn hospital in a gurney.” Her eyes seemed to glitter with irritation and grim promise.

“...I can’t. I promised. Lets just say it was my fault.” He winced at her expression. “I really gotta stop taunting people…” He gave her a sincere, apologetic look.

Serena’s eyes narrowed into slits as she thought about who wouldn’t want him to tell people who beat him up. It only took a few seconds for her to make the necessary logical connections. ”Vellios.” She almost hissed in frustration. ”You picked a fight with Vellios? When he was in one of his moods? Are you fucking suicidal? You’re lucky he didn’t kill you!” She let go of his pinky and ran a hand through her hair. ”He’s lucky you started it or I would have killed him!”

She jabbed a finger at the drell. ”Now you listen, and you listen good you maniac. When Vellios wants to beat the shit out of an inanimate object so he doesn’t take his aggression out on something living, you goddamn let him. The only reason I’m not smacking you around for being a well meaning fool is because your body is already beat to shit. Since you seem to need something to focus your attention on, as fighting turians who are struggling with murderous rage seems to be the only thing to assuage your boredom, you’re going to play a chess game with me at least once. In return I won’t constantly remind you of how stupid you were.” Serena glared balefully at him. ”Am I clear?

The drell, to his credit, took it on his chin. When she was done however, he hummed. He kept the hum up for a full minute and then his expression changed to one he rarely shown the rest of the crew. Anger. “No. See. Here is where things get tricky. If Vellios keeps going the way he does, one day, it will kill him. He is looking for the bullet to end him. The guys past is eating him up from the inside.” Dronos lips drew into a thin line. “Just like mine.”

“He is crew, and I do not let crew walk out on their lonesome, without a word to simmer and stew. If nobody stir the pot, that stuff is gonna boil over at a critical moment, and we are all going to die.” He actually did a gesture like he was stirring a pot. “He play the loner, but it is because he like me seem to have had a really bad time around other people in our pasts. What I did was reckless. But I did it for a purpose. Do not think I get beat up for fun.” He paused. “Often.”

It wa his turn to jab a finger at her. “Vellios is your friend. I get that you believe yourself to know him best as you two are tight. But take it from the drell who took a bullet to his back. You do not let crewmembers go alone.” He took a deep breath. “You do not let them beat their knuckles into pulp against a tree because they do not know where else to go, what else to do.”

He sighed. “Look. I do not think anyone onboard this deathtrap of a ship can make a claim for a happy, problem free past. Which is why sacrifices are made. Like my ribs. That dude has a mean left hook.”

“But point taken. I will not provoke a homicidal Turian.” He paused. “Until I got my back fixed. Then I am gonna see if I can’t set up a sparring spot, or at least boxing bag for our broody turian tree killer.”

Serena rubbed her temples. ”Drono. The entire reason he was going to go punch a tree was so that he didn’t simmer over anything. You know what he did when someone like you pushed him before we met? He crippled them. For life. He broke their legs and spines and left them for dead. I’m not saying that your ideas and intentions aren’t wrong. Your execution is just terrible. You don’t just walk into Vellios expecting him to react like the rest of us. I did and I got seven inches of Omni-blade in my stomach.”

She sighed, emotions churning. ”I know Vellios is expecting, if not actively searching for his own death. I’ve been trying to get him to stop believing that he’s past saving for over a year now. The only progress I have made is that he stopped crippling people for life, cut down on on drugs, and is willing to attempt to explain his actions to people. I’m doing my best Drono and it doesn’t seem to be enough.” She leaned against the wall, holding her head in her hands as the reality of what she was saying finally hit her. Optimistic denial wasn’t working anymore.

”I don’t want him to die…”

Drono lay a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t let him. I believe I atleast got one thing through his thick turian skull. And that is that he is not alone in this. And that we won’t let him go.” He shot her a grin.

“Guy like that. I do not know his past. But I know a person trapped in flight or fight when I see them. Whatever went down in his past, it was as bad or worse than my own. And I got shot in my damn back. By my best friend.” He rolled his shoulders. “We won’t let him die Serena, and once he realize what a good crew and structure gives him, he might just stop looking for that bullet. I don’t think we can cure the brooding though. That guy acts like movie anti-hero if you let him.”

Serena looked up in alarm, the surprise helping her get herself back under control. ”Shit Drono. I’m sorry. You probably don’t want or need me breaking down like this when you’ve got your own, much more important, problems. Speaking of that, I heard that Haze drug you to a hospital. Anything interesting come from that or is the goal still ‘get you to Omega hospital ASAFP’?” Serena straightened, waiting for his reply.

“I am no longer on hallucinogens or shitty black market drugs. So it was a 50/50.” he said the last part with a straight face. “He claims it is a good thing, I can’t feel my liver cry. But how am I supposed to know if the medicine work?!”

Serena raised an eyebrow, looking at him. ”You’re still standing after having your ass kicked by Vellios. It’s working.” She moved forward and quickly gave Drono a gentle hug, careful not to do too much pressure. ”Thank you.” Stepping back she flashed a grin at him. ” I gotta go. Other people need their gifts, and I don’t want to be nearby when you start playing with your new toys. We might blow an actual hole in the ship.” She gave a wave and began to leave, heading back towards the hangar.

He waved as she left. He felt a little awkward, he didn’t hug much. The back was one component, but also the fact that even before that, he had never been much of a hugging person. Mostly fistbumps. This sudden level of camaraderie was a shell shock, even for the quick witted, mile-a-minute mouth that was him. He shrugged it off and turned to his box of new, explosive toys.

“Allright. Let’s see what damage we can do with you guys…”

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

My Hider

Name: Jerimiah Tornb

Asset Number: 122-6106-6122 b (a is dead)

Department: Damage Control

Age: 34

Appearance: Jeremiah is not traditionally handsome. Nor does he have the whole rugged outdoorsman look going for him. Jeremiah's greasy, pulled back hair is a thinning mess, his teeth have seen better day and his lips are constantly chapped. He looks very much like the typical stereotype for redneck and white trash you expect from his neck of the woods.

Personality:

Subject Id, Jerimah Tomb. Initial assessment.

Crude, brutish, unrefined. Jeremiah Tomb is the product of one of the worst, most destitute and criminal trailer park areas in the states. He is prone to unreasonable bouts of anger and violence. Many of his more regrettable traits are the result of spending somewhere around 10 years cooking meth in the Appalachians and doing shrooms with the local sasquatch population. To his credit lies a hardiness and willingness to get down in the muc and haul ass if he need to. There isn’t a sensible bone in his body and I think the word finesse is lost on his vocabulary . But he make a decent footsoldier.

Brief History.

Red Ridge Campin is one of the poorest, most godforsaken places in the US.
So naturally, it spawned Jerimiah Tomb. Red Ridge Camping was founded in the 1910’s as one of the first dedicated camping spots for tourist purposes. Back then, the many would be outdoorsmen and rugged survivalists had to take a train, then a several days long hike to make it to the spot. These days, it just takes you 12 hours of hookey backroads up the appalachian mountains.

What began as small gathering of tents, grew to a small town of rigged canvas and professorial lodges. As more people fled the constantly growing civilized world, the place grew in size and importance. And it began to attract more then just outdoorsmen and survivalists, it attracted those that wished to escape attention and detection from the long arm of the law. Its remote location and the lack of nearby police presence has left what began as a outdoor american dream to become a den of illicit activity. As years passed, technology changed the world more are more. World War 1 came and went, leaving with it a very strange time. Roads were paved, and cars began to show up more and more. Then someone claimed to have found oil near Red Ridge, and for a while, the population swelled with oilers and their ilk. More permanent residents were built.

Then world war two happened, and with entire generations of men nad boys going to war, the town began to falter. During the next 70 years, Red Ridge became yet another remote, meth riddled trailer park, lost to annuals of history. By 1995, only 20 people lived there, The Tomb Family, a small contigent of Illuminati affiliated assets who used the on remaining lodge as their hunting lodge and a old bishop and his seven children.

But Red Ridge has another side to it as well. Even back when it was mainly attracting actual campers and survivalists. IT also attracted hunters, hunters of very unique and terrifying kind. Illuminati permanently set up a Hunters Lodge in order to keep the local sasquatch population under control. The Illuminati Hunters would later evolve into Damage Control. Various cults, ancestral spirits and murderous undead also harbor the appalachian mountains, making their presence a mainstain. Imagine their surprise when a Jerimiah Tomb, 26 years old, stumbles into the scene.

Born Jerimiah Isaac Mathews Tomb, Tomb was just a scrawny kid with a angry dad and a bitter mom. Having spent most his time with his dear old ma’, his father would take him out to a place at the outskirts to teach him to hunt. Tomb was terrible hunter, and never really got the hang of shooting a rifle anywhere near decent.

Jerimiah went to school, slugging his way through everything with barely passing grades in all but Chemistry, which he was somewhat good in. Then he got older, and began to smoke weed and take shrooms as he grew more and more distant towards his dear ol’ Pa.

At the age of 21, his father died from doing badly cut meth.

At 25, his mother died from doing slightly better meth. Leaving the trailer trash prince a kingdom of a broken down buic, three trailers full of trash, the large barbeque grill they built when he was a kid and not much else. Well, aside from about 300 large in poorly cut meth that his father had apparently stolen from bikers.Being a chemist by hobby, the young man began to purify what he could and lived of slinging the drugs to passerbys and old regulars of his dad and mom.

It was fate that had him investigate a noise in the night. The hunters lodges door stood ajar, and he could have sworn he had heard noises from it. That door had never been open more than a few seconds before, so naturally, he went to check it out.

In the middle of the lodge crouched a wendigo. And by his feet lay strange, curved broze saber. And it spoke to him. “Pick me up you worthless bint” And so he did. And then they spent five minutes trying to kill a wendigo with said sword before Iluminati showed up to clean up the mess. Recognizing that he was indeed of Summerian blood (Albeit barely) and that the blade had bonded with him, he was given a choice. Death or becoming a asset. He was assigned as Damage Control and told to aid the hunters, and so he did. When he wasn’t busy getting high that is.

Skillset: “Chosen One”´. It is a stupid thing, fate. IT ties to people like a puppy running around its owner's legs with the leash. So is it that Jerimiah Tombs entire usefulness relies on the bullshit that is a magical weapon. His combat talents are abysmal outside that old sword of his. However, due to the 000.5 percent of Sumerian Blood he has, he can tap into literally thousands of years of combat experience, heroic deed and arcane might. Granted, he can tap into 0.005 percent of it, but the sheer amount of it makes that percent a decent chunk.

Equipment and Spells:

Mageshgetil, Blade of Kings, Culler of Cowards, Champion of Truths, The Martial Principle
Aka “Maggy”

--

The holy blade of Sumerian kings, possibly owned by Gilgamesh himself at one point. In the hands of the kings descendants, it is supposed to be one of the true weapons. Ultimate in its power and dreadfulness. In the hands of Jerimiah, it is as reliable as a bent and rusted shotgun that never been cleaned. It is not the weapons fault. And Mageshgetil tries his damnest.

--
Arcanist Cookbook---
Essentially the Anarchist Cookbook for the magically inclined. It contains spells and instructions from a dozen different practices, cultures and magic schools. Tomb merely use it for its potent, alchemical drug recipies and to draw protective wards. He lack magical talent to do anything else with it.

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

@JamesMuddy

The general concept is fine. I like for you to elaborate a little on the profile. How does his smarts apply to the occult?

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

@Sophrus

Accepted

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

Ah very very good start! I would like to see a little elaboration the history. That is all. I like pretty much everything else about it him.

I'll need a small sheet for his demon, you cna just pm me if you wanna keep its abilities/talentes/fuckery secret.

[♛] 𝓡equiem. // the rise of soldier.

T H E S H O R E


“BURN THEM”

The voice was his only guide. The flame did not die, it only burns brighter with the rage of his being. Some would claim him mad. Some would lament the loss of cover. They were fools, idiots blinded by men in fancy suits telling them about “strategic importance” and “Sensitive Situations.” They had called for him to be on this mission. They had wanted a distraction. There were no better distraction than Kain. A kid from the slums, a brawny, violent thug turned berserking SOLDIER. A literal human pyre. What else could he do, but to burn as bright as possible. His head smashed visirs in, his fists were enhanced by the knuckle duster design of his trench knives, sending men tumbling and almost flying. He kept moving among the thick of it to avoid the cowards nad their rifles, putting bodies between him and them. ANd for each scratch they made to him, the more power he unleashed.

He was the flame. All these little men were moths. drawn to him. What better way to distract these pathetic mortals. These insolent weaklings. No, he was surrounded by blind fools, fumbling in the dark, to afraid to harness the flame that gave mankind dominion over the world in the first place.

Around him, his comrades fought, dispatching foes with ease. There gifts were different then his, strange and alien in their own ways. But none was so vital, so full of emotion as his. They reeled it in, they tried to keep it down. They were fools, they would be eaten by their own aeons from the inside.

“COME THEN” He bellows and flew once more from his position, a blazing, brilliant streak in the darkness, landing between three Achadian soldiers, and right on top of a fourth. He screamed in terror, but he smashed his fist down. As he rose, he let his fire die down a little. The heat was becoming to much, even for him. Mistaking it for some kind of opening, the other three charged at im. It was a fatal mistake. He caught one of them by the face, a giant h and encompassing a lot of that skull between meaty fingers. His eyes snapped open in sheer terror as Kain lifted the unfortunate man up so his feet was kicking of the ground.

“Burn with me.” He said as he fire roared to life once more. The poor man’s screams startled the other two soldiers so badly their knees buckled. Their weapons scrambling onto the ground. Looking down on them, Kain spoke.

“I am judgment. I am vengence. Leave, never lift a weapon, and justice will be kind.” He said as he dropped the charbroiled young man to step onto one of the archaic guns. “Go for your sidearm. ANd I will gut you both, and make you burn, inside out.”

As he spoke however, some cracked a shot at him. It snagged his shoulder, and Kains eyes flared red. The two terrified soldiers ran for it as he turned to stare at a soldier who did not seem to waver, but calibrating his gun for a proper shot. Kain smiled. IT was not a happy smile. It was feral, visceral. Teeth bared like on a primitive primate threatening another. He leaped, once more the comet. Landing with both knives dug into the mans shoulder, deep and lethal. The man stared trough his helmet, fear, confusion and disgust.

“A-animal..” He died with the words on his lips as Kain tugged his knives out. The heat searing the wound shut.

“Perhaps.” Kain admitted. “A hound.” He turned to the Commander of his mission. The person he felt a almost compulsive need to purge. But in a way, that was useful. Someone to stoke the rage that fueled his fire. He idly wondered if the higher ups had taken that into account.

Illuminati: Becouse the world won't run itself. [Light Hearted, Conspiracy, Urban Magic, Dark Humour]

@Sophrus

Immortality is kind of a no-no for me in pretty much every setting.