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6 hrs ago
Current Remember that you are an artist. You will know your medium the instant you realize how in love you are with what it brings out of you. If your heart is broken, make art with the pieces.
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16 days ago
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All of that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
8 likes
16 days ago
Oh sorry. I read the question wrong. 1's actually my social security number.
1 like
17 days ago
1
4 likes
1 mo ago
The phallic stimulation toy of consequence rarely arrives pre-lubricated.
8 likes

Bio

I have 3 mottos here in life, really.




Most Recent Posts

BARON MORGAN BRAND



Forged by fire, Part I

Morgan and Jack moved from the mansion to the mines, boarding the train to do so. The train ride had been most uneventful, only an hour on the mechanical beast as it spewed black smoke into the air, turning the coal into raw momentum. The train was almost empty, not a lot of people were traversing the island in the dead of night. As the train arrived, punctual as always, the two men embarked towards the mines.The air was thick with smog and in the distance one could hear the sound of the refineries that turned the excellent coal of the island into fuel for the factories. As well as the many workshops using the metals imported from the rest of the blue to create arms, tools and other useful items en masse. The factory district was at it’s core the single most important place on Sunstrider. Which made the shares Sunstone held in the mining companies, as well as the factories all the more important.

Leaving the station Morgan and Jack lit each up a smoke. Morgan opened his cigarette case, adorned by his family crest in gold,and picked out a handrolled cigarette which he pressed against his lips and lit with a flick of his thumb, his nail catching fire as discreetly as possible. Jack finished packing his pipe as he produced matches from his pocket, lighting it by rubbing it against his facial hair as he nursed the pipe before taking deep puffs of tobacco. The duo came across a couple of patrols of Striders as well as a small unit of Marines. 14 men in total between the two groups. They noticed a spat held between the two enforcement bodies about jurisdiction. They were out of Solstone so therefore the Baron had no stake in this match.

“THIS IS CLEARLY MARINE TERRITORY”

“LIKE HELL IT IS, BEAT COP. THIS IS OUR SOIL. STRIDER SOIL.”

“OH YEAH?! WHO YOU CALLING A COP, HUH?! WE’RE MARINES. SOLDIERS, GOD DAMNIT!”

“YEAH, SOLDIERS. THIS SURE AIN’T A WARZONE NOW IS IT, IDIOT. GO FETCH A BONE FOR YOUR WORLD GOVERNMENT MASTERS!”

“YOU WANT ME TO MAKE IT INTO A WARZONE, YOU LITTLE SUN-RASH PISSPOT?!”

As Morgan and Jack walked past, they could hear a brawl erupting behind the two units. The two had little love for either Marine or Strider so they ignored the on goings. However, if even the law enforcement stationed out here couldn’t keep peace between themselves, what hope would the opposing union miners have?

Arriving at the locale of the mine, a foreman noticed their approach and rushed at the two. He was a short and portly man with large cheeks and buck teeth. He was clad in a locomotive-driver's hat that was too big for him, the hat almost as tall as himself at roughly 4 feet, the hat drooping into a semi-circle, like a waxing moon, as he waddled up to the two men.

“Oi! Is it da Baron I spot?!” The man bellowed out and Morgan nodded

“If it ain’t my favorite foreman. How are you doing, Smokey?” The man shook his head
“Not good, not good at all lad. Mine’s a mess. The damn triad’s shut us down nice and proper, they have. Well, we shut ourselves down, but it’s because of their foul stenching tactics. They’re squeezing us for every penny we have. And I fear they’re setting up raiders to steal our shipments when they are supposed to leave the district.”

“That’s a… Stern alligation, Smokey.” Jack interjected. Smokey nodded in agreement as he continued pleading his case to the Baron and the former Ashbringer.

“Aye. But what else can one think when the damn trains heading to Sunstone get jacked, but the ones heading to the triad’s turf remain untouched? Six hijacks in two weeks. Our weekly production is down to a quarter of its normal amount. The stockpiles in our fine city will run empty in a week. We took to striking in order to enforce the triad to send guards onto all trains, as it’s their negotiated responsibility to secure the goods going in both directions, as per section 7B of the trade agreement and the most recent negotiations held two years ago. I have the paper here with me somewhere” He said, tapping the pockets of his overalls till he eventually found a paper, his soot-stained hands had left many prints all over the document.

“I know the paragraph well, Smokey. I wrote it.” Morgan confirmed as Smokey shook his head, coal falling out of his hat. “It gets worse, sir. There are men hired to fight our workers, beating up anyone who doesn’t get back to work. They come here every morning and beat the few our our men who show up, at this rate we won’t be able to return to production for weeks before our men have a chance to recover.”

“The triad is sending goons here?” Jack questioned, and Smokey nodded - and shook his head.

“Yes and no. They are pirates, who we are sure are affiliated with the Triad.”

Morgan rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. This sure wasn’t gonna be fun.

C H A R A C T E R S H E E T
C H A R A C T E R S H E E T :
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M I S T E R I M P O S S I B L E
M I S T E R I M P O S S I B L E
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"Impossible? Yeah, that's what I keep hearing. A living miracle. Now seriously, someone get me some pants!"
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C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Jack William Styx
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January24th, 2002 | 26 | Indigenous Scandi, definately passes as white.
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Widowed | Male | Heteroromantic
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Europe | Stockholm | Sweden
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House Lynx | Team 21 - Blackjack

C H A R A C T E R S T A T S
C H A R A C T E R S T A T S
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B U I L D || Athletic
H A I R C O L O U R || Strawberry blonde
E Y E C O L O U R || Blue with slight hazel hint
H E I G H T || 186 cm
W E I G H T || 69 Kilograms
S C A R S || None anymore
T A T T O O S || None
P I E R C I N G S || None
O T H E R || There has never been a man with skin as clear, free from blemishes or scars as Jack.
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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Jack grew up with challenges from an early age, born to an American father and a Saami mother in Sweden. His father, Marcus, was deeply involved in climate change research near the polar circle, which often kept Jack away from his mother, Teresa, and her side of the family. The Saami community faced ongoing challenges due to historical ethnic cleansing and the current perils of climate change, which threatened their culture and way of life.

As a child, Jack was often the smallest and weakest in his class, struggling with language barriers and motor skill difficulties. Many of his teachers suspected him of being neurodivergent or intellectually impaired due to these challenges. At the age of 16, Jack was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor, marking the beginning of a severe health crisis. The tumor rapidly spread throughout his body, leading to multiple organ failures. Just days before his 18th birthday, Jack's heart stopped in a hospital bed, leaving him critically ill and frail, weighing only 34 kilograms and standing at 167 centimeters tall.

In a miraculous turn of events, Jack inexplicably revived after being pronounced dead by doctors. His skin rejuvenated, and he emerged from the brink of death with newfound strength and resilience. This event marked the beginning of Jack's extraordinary journey as a hyperhuman.

Following his recovery, Jack explored his newfound abilities, pushing himself to the limits in activities like parkour and martial arts. He found work as a stuntman, where his hyperhuman powers were not only accepted but also advantageous. During this time, he met Cassandra, a fellow hyperhuman, and they fell deeply in love, eventually getting married.

Their happiness was short-lived, however, as Cassandra experienced a severe episode of hyperpsychosis during their time at PRCU, leading to a tragic incident where she unintentionally caused harm to others before succumbing to her condition. Jack was left devastated and took a break from school to cope with his grief and loss.

Now returning to PRCU, Jack faces the haunting memories of what he's lost and must navigate the challenges of being scarred, vulnerable, and emotionally raw.

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E & A E S T H E T I C
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E & A E S T H E T I C
- OPTIONAL
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Mild-mannered, low profile, ordinary.

Warm smile, donning a dressed-up casual style. Light temper and rarely in a outwardly bad mood. Most things seem to just run off him which is clear by the shallow crowsfeet and the dimple in his cheek from all the smiling he's done. His hair is naturally short and his beard never comes in completely as there's very little he can do to groom either by himself. He dresses in trifted clothing but nothing too 'one of a kind' as his powers has made it clear clothes are not as durable as he is. Usually in some kind of denim and t-shirt combination with a jacket and well thought out shoes. He wears glasses without needing them, but brushes off any hipster-remark.

M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y
M A N N E R I S M S & P E R S O N A L I T Y
- OPTIONAL
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Kind, warm, humorous, sensible.

He is an active individual, often taking the lead in conversations without stirring up controversy or drama. Jack possesses a light touch and a sense of humor that allows him to disarm most people easily. Despite keeping his deeper feelings hidden, he remains enigmatic to some, much like the mysteries surrounding his powers. It's as if he carries the demeanor of someone who has experienced hardship but now appreciates life's blessings.

Jack is deeply grateful for his second chance at life, even though he carries the weight of grief. However, this grief doesn't dampen his enthusiasm or zest for life; in fact, his infectious enthusiasm often uplifts those around him. He maintains a calm demeanor even in stressful situations, rarely panicking and always keeping his cool.

With a self-sacrificial nature, Jack is willing and able to shield others from harm, whether in dire situations or in everyday tasks like helping with dishes after a dinner party. This selflessness sometimes leads to a hint of naivety, which some may attempt to exploit, although he has generally been fortunate in avoiding having his trust abused.

Due to his life experiences, Jack is not materialistic. He views possessions as temporary and insignificant, adopting a naturalistic perspective where "stuff" holds little value. Consequently, he doesn't prioritize keeping up with trends or acquiring status symbols, as these things don't define his sense of self-worth or happiness.
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A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
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H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || Auto-Invulnerability
__PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || Assumed Esoteric
__SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || Impossible to confirm, but most likely somatic
__POWER SCALE || 00 or 09, depending on which analyst you ask.
__THREAT CLASSIFICATION || Ω

Imagine a human who has never known injury, disease, sickness, or even an imbalanced diet. That's Jack. He is functionally and completely impervious to harm, with a persona that repels strikes, bites, bullets, telepathy, burns, and radiation alike. Moreover, he either has no need for sustenance, calories, sleep, water, or air, or he is significantly less dependent on these factors compared to normal humans. His muscles can be pushed to improve without experiencing lactic acid buildup or muscular fatigue. Jack never runs out of breath or shows signs of being worn out. The inner workings of Jack's powers are beyond measurement using conventional means, leaving experts to evaluate him solely based on his incredible feats. Over the past decade, Jack has demonstrated unwavering strength and endurance. His powers never once shaking in performance regardless of how many hypes are around. Thus he's showcasing one of the most efficient uses of HZE in powers ever encountered by actors like HELP, PRCU, and the Foundation.


L I M I T A T I O N S || Knife's edge, the unknown factor.

While Jack has never been harmed thus far, there's an inherent uncertainty surrounding his powers. It's hypothesized that if something were to hurt him, it would have to be of extraordinary magnitude, potentially resulting in catastrophic consequences. Despite his invulnerability, Jack is just an ordinary person in terms of physical capabilities. He's not akin to Captain America; while his strength is impressive, it's not superhuman. For instance, he might survive a nuclear warhead, but the physical force of such an explosion could still severely impact him, like a wet cloth tossed by the blast.


W E A K N E S S E S || Cancer's a bitch.

Jack doesn't have a classic Achilles' heel or a vulnerability like kryptonite, although there's a significant vulnerability inherent in the suppression of his powers. When his powers were temporarily suppressed, his body reverted to the state it was in when they first activated, which was on the brink of death. This implies that his underlying condition isn't cured but rather held at bay by his powers. Therefore, any compromise to his powers could lead to immediate mortality, especially considering his habit of consistently putting himself in harm's way.


P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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A greaving man who's lost the love of her life, with powers that would alienate one from a good chunk of what it's like being human. When your heart is aching but you cannot feel pain from hitting your toe at the coffee table - how do you cope? Jack needs to figure out how he can cope with the hole in his heart, ideally without losing who he is and the appreciate for the life he spent so long incapable of living. The man is full of hope, joy and optimism in a life that's tried it's hardest to beat that out of him.
S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
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S K I L L S
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S K I L L | Stunt-Coordination | Multiple years working as a stuntman, body double and stunt coordinator has given him a taste of the real thing. Nobody on the planet is able to take a punch better than he can. He possesses specialized martial art, dancing, driving, acting and general action-oriented skills as a result.
S K I L L | Music | A mean fiddle-player with an acoustic guitar in his hand and a sorrow in his heart. His self-written love songs show he's bad at lyrics but he's able to convince anyone he meant it when he rhymed 'sweet as orange' with 'my heart is in storage'.
S K I L L | First-Aid | When you cannot be hurt but you can't do much to fire-back, you learn how to get good at treating those that do get hurt.

T A L E N T S
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T A L E N T | Low-Affective | When your entire life has been spent without hope, dreading death almost as much as you dread life. You come to appreciate the ups when they finally come around. He says his 'flight or fight response' is turned off, leaving him with no heightened emotional state, no stress and no fatigue in hectic situations. Able to keep a cool head and make the most rational, to himself, decision at any given time.
T A L E N T | Polyglot | Jack is capable of learning languages incredibly quickly and remakably easily compared to mundanes. A side-effect of his exclusively psycho-semantic need for sleep, which leaves him with a lot of extra time to learn.
C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L
C H A R A C T E R A R S E N A L
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A T T I R E
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U N I F O R M || His uniform is always worn in it's entirety when possible. However, he has gone through more uniforms than most in a school year. The hastiness of the quartermaster is the deciding factor in case he shows up in a blazer without holes in it.

I T E M ( S )
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B R A C E L E T || "Fuck Cancer" in simple, plastic beads. He makes them in his sparetime as he breaks quite a few.

T I T A N I U M R I N G || "The chink in my armor and my greatest strength"

T O O L ( S )
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P H O N E || Smartphone in reinforced case. 11th phone he's used this year.

A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S
A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
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E N T E R I N G I N T O Y O U R F I N A L Y E A R, W H A T A D V I C E D O Y O U H A V E T O A N E W S T U D E N T?

Advice? Well, first and foremost, don't drink the water in the lab!

Seriously though, my advice would be to make sure you enjoy your time here. It's undoubtedly one of the toughest phases of your life, but it's also incredibly enriching. These challenges will prepare you for anything. While we're in these walls, we have a sense of what to expect, but the world outside? It's a wild ride. Remember, if you're here, it's because you're exceptional. You're an asset to yourself, this school, and the world. It's easy to forget that when everyone around you seems to be extraordinary in their own way.


W H A T W E R E Y O U R A S P I R A T I O N S W H E N Y O U S T A R T E D H E R E? W H A T C H A N G E D, W H A T S T A Y E D T H E S A M E?

When I started here, I wanted to delve into understanding myself better, what makes me tick, you know? But that idea flew out the window pretty much as soon as I walked in, haha. My initial hope was to grow in an environment free from discrimination, where I could just be me without the 'hyperhuman' label defining everything. It's ironic and maybe a bit contradictory to what I said earlier, but deep down, I came here seeking a sense of 'normalcy,' I suppose. As for changes? Well, everything changed.


I F Y O U C O U L D M A K E O N E C H A N G E T O Y O U R T I M E A T P . R . C . U ., W H A T W O U L D I T B E?
...

...

...

I'd ensure I never missed Taco Tuesdays in the cafeteria, for sure. I'd definitely take more thorough notes during Mr. Bordeaux's classes. If I only can choose one though, I'd choose the most important. I'd make sure to cherish every moment with her, especially those precious moments like... Well, you know, kissing her just one more time..."
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Forged in fire, Part I




Morgan and Jack moved from the mansion to the mines, boarding the train to do so. The train ride had been most uneventful, only an hour on the mechanical beast as it spewed black smoke into the air, turning the coal into raw momentum. The train was almost empty, not a lot of people were traversing the island in the dead of night. As the train arrived, punctual as always, the two men embarked towards the mines.The air was thick with smog and in the distance one could hear the sound of the refineries that turned the excellent coal of the island into fuel for the factories. As well as the many workshops using the metals imported from the rest of the blue to create arms, tools and other useful items en masse. The factory district was at it’s core the single most important place on Sunstrider. Which made the shares Sunstone held in the mining companies, as well as the factories all the more important.

Leaving the station Morgan and Jack lit each up a smoke. Morgan opened his cigarette case, adorned by his family crest in gold,and picked out a handrolled cigarette which he pressed against his lips and lit with a flick of his thumb, his nail catching fire as discreetly as possible. Jack finished packing his pipe as he produced matches from his pocket, lighting it by rubbing it against his facial hair as he nursed the pipe before taking deep puffs of tobacco. The duo came across a couple of patrols of Striders as well as a small unit of Marines. 14 men in total between the two groups. They noticed a spat held between the two enforcement bodies about jurisdiction. They were out of Solstone so therefore the Baron had no stake in this match.

“THIS IS CLEARLY MARINE TERRITORY”

“LIKE HELL IT IS, BEAT COP. THIS IS OUR SOIL. STRIDER SOIL.”

“OH YEAH?! WHO YOU CALLING A COP, HUH?! WE’RE MARINES. SOLDIERS, GOD DAMNIT!”

“YEAH, SOLDIERS. THIS SURE AIN’T A WARZONE NOW IS IT, IDIOT. GO FETCH A BONE FOR YOUR WORLD GOVERNMENT MASTERS!”

“YOU WANT ME TO MAKE IT INTO A WARZONE, YOU LITTLE SUN-RASH PISSPOT?!”

As Morgan and Jack walked past, they could hear a brawl erupting behind the two units. The two had little love for either Marine or Strider so they ignored the on goings. However, if even the law enforcement stationed out here couldn’t keep peace between themselves, what hope would the opposing union miners have?

Arriving at the locale of the mine, a foreman noticed their approach and rushed at the two. He was a short and portly man with large cheeks and buck teeth. He was clad in a locomotive-driver's hat that was too big for him, the hat almost as tall as himself at roughly 4 feet, the hat drooping into a semi-circle, like a waxing moon, as he waddled up to the two men.

“Oi! Is it da Baron I spot?!” The man bellowed out and Morgan nodded

“If it ain’t my favorite foreman. How are you doing, Smokey?” The man shook his head
“Not good, not good at all lad. Mine’s a mess. The damn triad’s shut us down nice and proper, they have. Well, we shut ourselves down, but it’s because of their foul stenching tactics. They’re squeezing us for every penny we have. And I fear they’re setting up raiders to steal our shipments when they are supposed to leave the district.”

“That’s a… Stern alligation, Smokey.” Jack interjected. Smokey nodded in agreement as he continued pleading his case to the Baron and the former Ashbringer.

“Aye. But what else can one think when the damn trains heading to Sunstone get jacked, but the ones heading to the triad’s turf remain untouched? Six hijacks in two weeks. Our weekly production is down to a quarter of its normal amount. The stockpiles in our fine city will run empty in a week. We took to striking in order to enforce the triad to send guards onto all trains, as it’s their negotiated responsibility to secure the goods going in both directions, as per section 7B of the trade agreement and the most recent negotiations held two years ago. I have the paper here with me somewhere” He said, tapping the pockets of his overalls till he eventually found a paper, his soot-stained hands had left many prints all over the document.

“I know the paragraph well, Smokey. I wrote it.” Morgan confirmed as Smokey shook his head, coal falling out of his hat. “It gets worse, sir. There are men hired to fight our workers, beating up anyone who doesn’t get back to work. They come here every morning and beat the few our our men who show up, at this rate we won’t be able to return to production for weeks before our men have a chance to recover.”

“The triad is sending goons here?” Jack questioned, and Smokey nodded - and shook his head.

“Yes and no. They are pirates, who we are sure are affiliated with the Triad.”

Morgan rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose. This sure wasn’t gonna be fun.

and thus Julian relapsed into his coma for another two years


Julian POV:



Knock Knock Knocking on Heaven’s door…
Mama’ tell me…
Feels like I’m knocking on heaven’s door…


His arm, encased in brown reinforced leather, bore the weight of weariness, stress, and the painful burns etched into its surface. It was a testament to the trials he had faced. Yet, his hand remained resolute, an unwavering testament to his unbroken spirit. The cold, unforgiving air swept in through the gaping hole in the building, mingling with the relentless rain.

His arm reached out, fully extended, and at its end, it clutched the throat of his closest friend, Chuck. Chuck dangled precariously over the abyss, the raging storm outside mirroring the turmoil within their souls. Lightning split the sky, revealing the strained faces of these two men. Illadvised, once the protector of New Lilith from the shadows, now found himself exposed, his one hand locked onto the arm of his assailant, his former friend, and trusted ally, Angel.

Chuck's hood had fallen, revealing a torn ballistic dynamo mask, its shattered remnants strewn across the burning room. His bo-staff lay broken, shattered by Enochian wings, and his grenades had been deflected, creating the very breach they now clung to. The treacherous actions of Locke and his mind-bending accomplice, Mindwarp, had brought them to this precipice.

"Fight them, Thomas," Chuck managed to rasp out through gritted teeth, his ribs broken from a brutal kick he had endured moments earlier. Talking with a collapsed lung was an agonizing struggle.

Lightning struck again, illuminating Thomas's face. His once vivid blue eyes now appeared gray and hollow, filled only with anger—no, contempt. The wound on his cheek from Chuck's last-ditch effort at self-defense, a pocket knife from his father, began to heal, leaving only a scar.

"There's nothing left to fight, Chuck," Thomas declared, renouncing his humanity in favor of his heritage as a warrior and conqueror.

Desperation coursed through Chuck, and he clung to Thomas with one hand while wrenching the gauntlet from his left arm—a gauntlet with an interface to mechanically interact with Glitch. He exposed his vulnerable skin to the frigid air.

"You can't steal my strength, Charles. Your tricks won't save you this time," Thomas taunted, pressing harder on Chuck's throat. Chuck groaned in pain and shook his head somberly.

"No," Chuck gasped, pressing a button on the gauntlet and tossing it between himself and Thomas. The glove projected a 3D hologram—photographs of cherished memories. Chuck, Makarios and Thomas at college, Makarios leaping off cliffs at Lake Albion during last summer's swimming trips, Nathan scoring while standing upside down on the basketball court roof. A picture of Thomas and Jason, Chuck buying Jason his first beer. All of them playing video games, Xander cooking pizza. Thomas teaching Adam how to box and many more were projected. His parents, his friends.

"Take this, and one day, when you find your way back, Thomas," Chuck implored, the alien's grip on his throat loosening, "let these memories be your guide. They can help you remember what it was like to be good, what it was like to love." A photo of Thomas kissing Tiffany displayed under the two.

"To be human," Chuck finished, slipping from his friend's grasp. The last thing he saw before descending into the embrace of the New Lilith night was the gentle blue glow from his glove before it too went dark.

I have posted, and Varo is now with the group. Now to see how it goes.

Also, @Hillan. You mind if I change how Varo's magic works? I might change it a bit and it will still be connected the a star. But change it up a bit.


Go for it.
It's hard giving Link a bad enough reason to be cursed while also making sure he's not irredeemable in the reader's eyes.


It could've been worse. It could've been for some really petty reason.

"You stole my parking space you fucking DICK - BAM LYCANTHROPE"

<Snipped quote by Hillan>

"12th Level Intellect, my ass."

- Kali Wintergreen


"I can make a billion calculations a second. They're all wrong."
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

No Conor mainly feels guilty, though a little angry Julian tried taking on so many powerhouses solo




- The greatest genius of his generation.
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