Hitman

《 H. E. R. O. 》

Roughly One Year Ago

"Christina. We need to talk."

The two were sitting in Powers' office. It looked like usual- the same display of various military-grade weapons, the same clutter of paperwork on the disc, the same teddy bear pin cushion for combat knives. Powers was behind his desk, wearing his usual olive-green camo military jacket, his hands folded on his desk, his facial expressions tense. On the other end of the desk was Christina Lavender, who looked much more relaxed. She was dressed much more casually for the day, in a bomber jacket and khaki shorts, her short red hair tossled, large hoops dangling from her ears, a single pistol strapped to her leg. She sat in the chair opposite Powers, eyeing him.

"So I figured, or else you wouldn't have called me here." Her eyes examined his tightened facial features, his taut body language, as the Director of H.E.R.O. lifted a manila folder from the clutter of paperwork sitting at his desk. The folder was labelled "Recruit Applications," and it was full of a variety of forms. Powers sifted through the forms, most of them marked with a red stamp labelled "REJECTED" along with a hand-drawn frowny face in red pen by Christina. After moving past a good number of rejected forms, Powers stopped at one form labelled "ACCEPTED" in a green stamp along with a written note by Christina in her trademark slanted, muddled, inky cursive- "Welcome to HERO! Can't wait for you to join us!" Stapled to the form was an abundance of waivers and other forms to submit, along with a memo on first day information and routines.

Powers put the accepted application down on the table, the document facing Christina. Written next to the NAME section were the words 'Patricia Donnelly.' Powers' eyes moved up to Christina, who couldn't tell if they were sad, disappointed, angry, or some mixture. "Explain this."

"Not much to explain. She clearly demonstrated aptitude with her powers, her physicals are fine, and her psych evaluation is...well, we've accepted others with less positive evaluations."

"Do you know that last name?"

"Of course I do. I worked that case-"

Powers cut her off. "What were you thinking?! She is the daughter of-"

"I know, I know, prolific superpower-based serial killer. So what?"

"What do you mean, so what?"

"Her father did some terrible things, that I won't deny. But she's not her father."

"She's her father's daughter, Christina. Have you even bothered to look at her report? She's had incidents with her powers in the past."

"So has anybody that developed powers, they try to use it and get in trouble, that's why they come to us in first place!"

"Her powers are dangerous, especially so, and she's demonstrated ill intent in using them. She's the daughter of Patrick Donnelly, the Maestro, a man who has remorselessly slaughtered hundreds of-."

"What, and you're going to come and tell me the Powers name is all clean? That all of your family comes from pure blood? That you and your children are all flawless humans? Come on, Hugo! Cut the crap! Don't bullshit me!" Christina nearly yelled, exasperated.

This seemed to shut Powers up, and he stared at Christina, tons of emotions festering behind his eyes as his eyes locked with hers, a determined fire behind her eyes. She spoke again. "You can override me if you want, veto my decision. These mail out tomorrow. You have every right to do so. But...your family doesn't determine who you are. Is this girl perfect? No! She's very, very imperfect. As is every person who walks into these doors. But I could tell that when she came here, she was dead-set on changing her family name, her family legacy. That's what matters the most to me." She continued to watch him defiantly.

Powers spoke again about a full minute later. "They're going to be on our asses. The press, ICOSA, everybody. You know how they're going to feel about all this."

"And?" Christina asked, allowing a sly smile to slip onto her face.

After another moment of silence, Powers pushed the manila folder over to Christina across the table, eyes locking with hers once again. "Mail them out as soon as possible."

Christina smiled. "Thanks, Director."

Powers responded with a firm shake of his head. "No, no. Thank you, Christina."

The Sisters of the Dying Branch

don't double post canary

《 H. E. R. O. 》

"I-I- that's not how friendship works...I-I mean. I'm a hero, and you're a villain. You know that, right? Even if we met when we were- what, 5? Once? Maybe then, we were friends, but now... you said your father was a friend of mine, my father is a convicted serial killer, that's really not the best family connection."

Kat pouted. "We can be, like, cross-organization friends? I dunno. Or, even better, you can join us! I'd love to have you. You can be, like, my top lieutenant. Some of the older villains have, like, mini-squads that work for them! I mean, I don't have to be your boss, y'know. We can be partners! Your power is really cool, by the way. I haven't heard firsthand, but I've heard you have a really pretty voice." Kat, now that Patricia was listening, seemed to be chatting up a storm.

"B-but, you know, friendship does usually start with talking..." Patricia took another sip of the very high-quality water. "S-so... um. After this. What are you guys going to do with us- with the heroes? Why? Where are you sending us?" Kat smiled happily, looking over at Patricia with wide eyes. "Ooh! I can tell you, but no telling your other hero friends, OK?" Apparently oblivious to the fact that Patricia, as a hero, was undeniably going to tell all of her hero friends ASAP, Kat continued to ramble on. "So, basically, after Vinnie does his terrible stuff, the heroes get sent to ZERO HQ. I'm not a fan of the torture, personally. It's really cruel. I mean, they are heroes, so they do absolutely deserve it, but I try to keep a moral high ground," Kat said, before quickly adding, "You're not bad though, Patricia! You're basically one of us. You should be, anyway," Katharine said, giving Patricia another quick hug (she really liked hugs) and totally ignoring the fact that this statement would likely mortify her before continuing.

"Afterwards, we bring the heroes to the Ultra Death Machine. Well, it's not called that, of course, but that's what it looks like. Using the machine, we give the heroes a 'quick, merciful death.' At least, that's what Daddy told me," Kat said, pausing to think for a moment. "Though I always found it strange that they scream when going into the machine, if it's so painless and merciful. But anyway, it's a really cool machine. It's, like, really big, and it looks like one of those CAT scan machines! So anyway, what the machine does is-" Her speech was cut off by the sounds of "How Will I Know" by Whitney Houston emanating from her phone on the bed. "Oh, sorry, Patricia," Kat said, reaching over to grab the smartphone and picking it up, putting it against her ear. "Paradox? What? I can't hear you...it sounds like you're moving really quickly right now!"

There was a pause, before Kat spoke again. "What? No, no way! You can't see me! There's no cameras in here!" She looked around frantically. There didn't seem to be any cameras in the room.

Pause. "Wh-what?! No! I'm not a traitor, I swear!"

Pause again. "St-stop! N-no! Don't do that!" Katharine was tearing up at this point, water brimming at her eyelids. "Pl-please! I'm n-not!"

Another pause. "Y-you're so m-mean to me, Paradox!" she practically shouted into the phone. After another pause, she yelled, "Shut up!" before hanging up. The poor female villain was in tears, curling up on the bed. "I hate him...I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him..." she repeated over and over again, for the first time not trying to actively grab Patricia as she sunk into a little ball, head between her knees, as she began to sob. "Why does h-he always choose me?" she asked, probably not to Patricia. "J-just because of who my father is he does this. Nobody else! He only ridicules m-me! We're s-supposed to be on the same side b-but he just...h-hates me! I don't know wh-why!" She continued to sob heavily. Evidently either this Paradox person was a really horrible human being, or Katharine was just an incredibly sensitive person. Or perhaps both.

@canaryrose

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---

As Blake wiped the dirt and grass from his elbows, he watched the now-downed Ranucci, who was currently in a lot of pain. Blake shrugged. "Was that just me or was that possibly the worst assassination attempt ever? Like, he had the element of surprise and he didn't even hurt one of us. That's pathetic." Blake chuckled as he walked over along with Jamie and Rumi, watching Rumi put on his magic shield and armor. Blake smiled. "He already got disarmed, Rumes. His gun is in the shrubs right now." Blake pointed to the shrubs, before looking back to Ranucci, who began to respond to Rumi's inquiries. "Vinnie's the boss...and there ain't nobody in there, please, just lemme go!" Ranucci yelped, reverting to a hillbilly Southern accent. "The heroes are in the other building, through the trapdoor..."

Blake leaned in. "So in the end, he wasn't even a real Italian! That's weird. So, terrible assassin man, what's the deal with these captured heroes?" Blake leaned in, hoping for an answer from Ranucci, when the man suddenly began to shiver, before then full-on thrashing in Rumi's arms, like he was being electrocuted. Blake first went to Brie, but of course the girl wasn't there, and probably wasn't anywhere near the area, so Blake ruled her out. Little to Blake's knowledge, inside his chest, Ranucci's defibrillator was going wild, before eventually it stopped, Ranucci's eyes closing as his heart stopped as well. Blake watched in shock and a bit of horror. "Rumi, check his pulse. Is he actually...shit, man, what the hell happened? People don't just die like that. Did you stab him with some...science juice?" Blake asked accusingly, a little unsettled. The man did just try to kill him, and Blake was not exactly mourning, nor would he chalk up any plans to attend the man's funeral, but nobody deserved to die like that. He had to admit that he was just a little disturbed by what had transpired.

He was about to be a lot more disturbed.

Blake sighed. "Let's go inside...ooh! Airplane!" Blake pointed up at a soaring object that was zooming through the sky. "Hold on..." Blake muttered, scratching his head. "That's definitely not a plane...that's...no way...."

The word Blake was thinking of was "person" as said "person" came crashing down in a nosedive, smashing directly into the house and causing the small, unimpressive building to crumble like a cookie. Blake coughed as dust and probably asbestas launched outwards in a plume of smoke and dust. As the smog cleared, Blake observed the man standing in the ruins of the house. He was tall, very tall, but his most obvious feature was that the man appeared to be wearing some type of robot suit or something. Polished metal covered every inch of his body, up to his face, which had a strange helmet look to it. Across his silver-black body were lines that were currently pulsing green. The man/creature(?) looked at the three.

Paradox

"Firebird. Quake. Sir E. Brum." the robot/man said in a decidedly robotic voice, as he appeared to be scanning the trio. He stepped forwards, two large pieces of metal emerging from his back that Blake could only assume were bazookas "My name is Paradox. You are outgunned. Surrender now or be annihilated."

"Burn in hell!" Blake shouted, before releasing a pillar of flames where Paradox stood. The flames enveloped Paradox as they rushed towards the sky. One palm raised, guiding the flames upwards, Blake looked over at the two with a smile. "A lot of really pathetic villains," he noted with an arrogant grin, before allowing the fire to cease. "Well, that was easy-..." Blake blinked as he noted that the man was still standing there, shoulder bazookas out, as he was currently surrounded by a pulsing green forcefield. The forcefield vanished as Paradox's mood lights turned to blue. "I accept the terms of your surrender," Paradox noted with an eery robotic laugh, before firing two missiles at high speeds, one at Blake and the other at Rumi. Blake was expecting to be eradicated but instead, the missile released a net that ensnared Blake and pinned him to the ground- he could only assume the same was happening to Rumi. Blake struggled against the net- they weren't isolonic, thank God, but they were very tough and heavy, and he would need some time before he could burn free.

Meanwhile, Paradox turned to face Jamie. "Quake categorized as S-Tier hero. Field testing and data collection authorized by Command-1." He spread his arms, his voice as robotic, monotonous, and choppy as possible. "Hit me with your best shot, hero."

@canaryrose (again), @Scarifar

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《 H. E. R. O. 》

Grace listened closely to Tom's very rousing (and quiet) speech. "Like hell anything bad is going to happen to them, because we're going to bust them out and then get them the hell out of this fucked up mafia complex. THEN, we're gonna come back with reinforcements and free any other heroes that these sickos may have trapped here!" Grace couldn't help but crack a thin smile. "At least you have a plan," she said hopefully, crawling over to where Tom was looking. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough hole space for her to look as well, so she simply hovered by Tom's side. When he stopped looking, she could tell by the expression of his face that what he had seen was not good. She shivered as they said that they had found Patricia. Poor girl.

"What are you...ah, smart," Grace commented, crawling after Tom and following him into the new dark space, one that she presumed was above the main hall where the meeting had taken place, crouching by the other peephole that Tom had found. Tom then turned to her, shining her in the face with the flashlight, causing her to fall back quite stupidly. She blinked a few times, regaining her bearings, as she listened to his request. She quickly grew mortified. "Tom, no, I can't do that! It's too dangerous, they'll go on alert, they'll find us, and they'll probably kill us on the spot. And plus, I'm a little low on energy right now..." She held out her palm, a small portal flickering in and out of existence. "And I can hardly see. This is going to probably end badly..."

Grace rolled up her sleeve. Her watch was PHANTOM standard gear that allowed her to send communications to others quickly and also contained an abundance of other features. Unfortunately, it had been connected to her phone, which was currently dead as a doornail. She turned back to Tom, taking deep breaths. Her normally clear-cut English was replaced by a Korean accent, and she tripped over a few words as she spoke. "We should really get help..." she whispered to him as she nudged him out of the way, looking for the peephole. "We can't fight a whole manor of people alone. Use your phone and call your Director. Or anybody. Please," she whispered to him, looking down through the hole again and running through some mathematical equations in her head. She took one more prolonged breath and raised her hand. A swirling portal appeared in front of her, but it seemed shakier than usual, the portal flickering in its shape and size and spewing purple sparks. The portal only lingered for a few moments before it spontaneously burst, releasing a shower of purple sparks everywhere along with a loud "pop" and a blast of strong purple light.

Grace fell back as her portal quite literally exploded, falling on top of Tom, looking quite distraught. "I'm sorry, I'm just out right now...sending those people so far across the city was a bad idea," Grace said to Tom, her thin eyes watery and looking up at him like a baby rabbit. "I think I might've given us away, too...ugh, I am so sorry," she repeated, wiping her face with her sleeve as she tried to recollect some steel in her voice. "Is your phone still working? We should call somebody. Jen-jang." She closed her eyes, taking some deep breaths, trying to regain some energy. She should've had enough to portal one person up one floor, but the stress of the mission was getting to her, which was unusual. Grace normally managed to stay calm. This, somehow, was foreign. Perhaps the thought that her new compatriots, all much more talented fighters than her, were practically all screwed over already. The girl shook her head, pushing these thoughts out of her mind, as she tried to muster up some confidence.

As she did so, little to her knowledge, her watch was still functioning; it was on low-power mode, but it was still alive. While it didn't have enough power to make a call, its other function, the tracker, was still alive, and if Grace was looking, she would've noticed a suspiciously, very high-power threat (possibly S-tier?) moving at very high speeds towards Watervale.

@KaijuBaragon@Amethyst

^{1. jen-jang (젠장): cathartic swear, roughly translates to "god damnit"}

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Kat watched closely as Patricia backed away, tilting her head like a curious animal. That wasn't quite the reaction she had anticipated, but she supposed that she could understand why. After all, this would be a confusing series of events had their positions been reversed. Kat patiently waited for Patricia to stop talking, before stepping towards her tentatively. "Don't be silly. I'm not going to kill you. I brought you here so that you wouldn't be killed. Or have your teeth pulled out. Your teeth are very nice, by the way." She approached Patricia cautiously, attempting to pat her on the shoulder. She shushed Patricia. "You're going to be OK, promise. I just didn't want Vinnie to hurt you. He does that to people sometimes, especially heroes. Hurts them. Badly. Sometimes with pliers. Before he sends them off. He's a little mean, I guess."

Kat grew closer to Patricia, trying to maneuver around her extended arm to get close to her. "I just figured, you know, maybe we could be...friends?" she offered hopefully, the word awkwardly falling out of her mouth. "I've never really had one before," she explained quickly. "And I just remember seeing you a long time ago, as a toddler, and you know, there were some memories there..." She trailed off for a moment, before quickly snapping back to reality. "I mean, if that's OK with you. I just, you know, wanted somebody my age to talk to. All of my colleagues are old and I never get to see any real teenagers."

She looked over at Patricia hopefully. "So that's why you're here, and not in the torture room. By the way, I guess you're stuck with the name Daphne until you get out of here. It's not that bad of a name, I think. Not as good as Patricia, though. That's a really pretty name," she said, a soft tinge of red falling upon Katharine's snow white cheeks. "So, like I asked you before, can I get you something to drink?" She reached down into her luggage. "Hold on...I have...a-ha!" she exclaimed with glee, yanking out a bottle of expensive mineral water and extending it towards Patricia. "This should help!" she offered to Patricia, looking at her with surprisingly innocent eyes.

@canaryrose

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《 H. E. R. O. 》

Tommy Gugliano turned towards Angelica, looking at her with a fond smile. "Uncle M's not here? Figures. He's a good uncle, sure, but he's a drinker for sure, among other things...well, don't worry yourself, I can vouch for you." His smile was quite unlike the others at the table- it had a certain warmth to it, though that warmth was countered by a smidge of cunning and thoughtfulness as well. That being said, it was clear to see his heart was much wider than the rest of the mafiosos, even if that wasn't all that wide. As a grunt approached, he held to his word, waving his hand. "She's with me," he said simply, waving his hand at the grunt who had come over to check. "Don't bother." The guard, understanding, scuttled away quickly. Tommy looked back at Angelica. "It's not really safe here for you, without an ID. They can come at any minute and-" He was interrupted by a loud yelling noise near him, followed by the slam of a person hitting the hard wood table and the ringing of silverware.

---

"Eugh! Get your face away from my ear!" the guard yelled, overly loudly, as he grabbed Patricia and practically slammed her into the table, pinning her arm behind her back as he did so and twisting it, not enough to do any damage but enough to keep her from going anywhere. From his belt he grabbed the small syringe full of isolene that a new influx of cash had paid for, and he rammed it into the "BOSS! This random girl has a fake ID! And she tried to...I think sing in my ear? She's gotta be some sort of crazy hero spy."

Vinnie chuckled, currently chewing on a fat cigar. "Another mole? I have to say, I'm impressed. Ol' Powers didn't do a half-bad job here. If the one girl didn't mess up royally, that is." He laughed again, his pudgy, ugly face displaying telltale signs of amusement. "You loaded her up? Good. Bring her down to the compound with the other two. And make 'em talk. Use the pliers if we have to. Pretty young heroes aren't so pretty with no teeth, right? We'll make them squeal-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Vinnie."

All the grunts and other criminals in the room turned to look at the young girl who had spoken up, still sitting at the edge of the table, looking awfully smug. Her red eyes were focused on vibrant as she rested her chin on her knuckles, her elbow pressed against the table as she looked at Patricia. "She's with me."

Vinnie did not look all too thrilled with this revelation. "She's not with you, you dumb bitch, she's a fucking spy! She probably tried to do some crazy hero hypnosis on my men! You better believe I'm going to make her pay!"

"Let me repeat myself one more time." Katharine stood, walking around the table, her fingers trailing on the edge, as she made her way over to Patricia. The guard that was holding Patricia down, knowing that standing around her was a bad idea, stepped back instinctively, letting Patricia go. "She's. With. Me. She's an agent with my father here to check up on you. Needless to say, you're going to fail. Badly." Kat flashed a cutesy smile directly at Vinnie, though it was clear malice was underlying everywhere. "Now, are you going to listen, or are you going to regret?"

Vinnie made a few mouth noises, chewing his cigar angrily, glaring at Kat, having already gotten to his feet. After a few moments of silent contemplation (it looked like he was going to actually blow up), he removed the cigar from his mouth, spitting down at the ground. "Fine. FINE. Leave the girl. Take these two." He gestured with his cigar towards Brie and Will, who were currently flocked with goons and being held tightly. "You had better believe I'm going to tell your dad about all this."

"If you want to piss him off, you should go ahead. Come on, Daphne." Kat tugged on Patricia's arm, guiding her out of the room, shooting one last glare at Vinnie before exiting into the corridor.

---

Tommy sighed as the exchange happened, shaking his head, his arm having snaked its way around Angelica at this point to awkwardly hold her at the shoulders. "I can't believe they're making my dad of all people kowtow to this random teen girl! This definitely isn't my father..." He sighed, shaking his head, his curls bouncing in front of his head as he did so. "Sorry, I shouldn't vent to you...this isn't your business. We ought to get you out of here before Vinnie kicks you out, or worse. Or maybe you can hide somewhere, lay low for a few. My bedroom is open..." He said quietly, looking at Angelica thoughtfully. "My dad's on edge right now. Sorry for all this trouble."

---

Meanwhile, Will and Brie were roughly led from the room by a squadron of mafioso goons, taken away from the action down a narrow hallway into what looked to be a room chock full of wine. One of the goons, a hairy, muscled one that seemed to be more in charge, clucked at them. "Don't look, heroes," he said jokingly, before pressing his palm onto the lone barrel of Sangiovese. The wall rumbled before the hidden mechanism propped open a door, which Will and Brie were promptly dragged into. The room they were hauled into was a large, warehouse-looking space, with gray stone floors and steel walls, armed goons patrolling the open space and large crates of god-knows-what stacked against the walls in huge piles. Will and Brie were (roughly) escorted down the large open space over towards a large steel door. The goon-in-chief quickly tapped in a passcode, the steel doors opening revealing a medium-sized, empty room, like a small storage room in a warehouse.

The goons escorted Will and Brie to the center of the room, a large square in the middle. "Energy cage," the chief goon explained as Will and Brie were sat down in the middle of the metal square, where there were definitely some bloodstains along with a Hero ID card belonging to Richard Stevens, AKA Thundering Whisper. After being thrown down hard onto the metal floor, four glowing walls of some type of plasma energy sprouted up, connecting to a metal piece on the ceiling and thus sealing (haha auditory pun) Brie and Will to their fates. The head goon gave a cheerful wave. "Good luck in there!" he shouted, before walking out of the storage room, the heavy metal doors closing behind him with an ominous 'clang.'

---

Back in the manor itself, Katharine had guided (basically yanked) Patricia upstairs towards a guest room on the second floor. She tugged Patricia into the room, which was just like a normal bedroom, mostly bare-bones except for a small-ish bed and dresser drawer. There was a crimson suitcase full of clothes that was lying to the side of the room, and on what appeared to be some type of parrot stand was Katharine's Spectator, Bellatrix, who was (thankfully for Patricia) asleep and not exerting her insanity-inducing effects on Patricia. Katharine closed the door, before turning back to Patricia. She looked at her. "Patricia Donnelly," she said coolly after a momentary pause, staring at Patricia eerily, before suddenly and quite unexpectedly rushing towards her, pulling Patricia into a hug.

"It's so nice to see you again!" Kat squeaked as she held Patricia in a friendly hug, rocking her back and forth excitedly. "I haven't seen you in the flesh since...forever! You look super pretty, I couldn't even recognize you until you tried to hypnotize that asswipe!" She said all of this in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, almost like a fangirl, as she let go of Patricia, no longer looking like a murderous villain but more like a fairly normal teenage girl. "I mean, you probably don't remember me. We met when we were, like, toddlers. Our dads were very good friends!" She beamed happily at Patricia. "Ooh, Daddy's going to be so excited when he sees you...well, enough of that for now." Kat bounced on her toes. "Sorry about the isolene, some of the grunts here are very...piggish? They're pieces of shit, is what they are. Do you want me to fetch you something to drink? I know that sometimes the isolene can make you feel a little woozy."

@Infinite Cosmos@canaryrose@Amethyst@Danvers

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As the vehicle pulled up by the suburban-looking house, Blake stepped out, putting both hands against the side of the car and taking some deep breaths. "Jesus...Jamie...how...the...fuck...did...you...pass....driver's....ed?" he panted a few times before regaining his bearings, turning towards the house. "Uggh...I guess this is the house? Looks...pretty normal. Almost too normal." Blake stepped towards the house, walking up to the front door. He knocked a few times. "Hello~? I want to rent some cleaners or something? Heard this was the place?" Blake then moved his hand to the doorbell and rang it once, before ringing it about 12 more times a moment later.

After waiting, with no response, Blake shrugged. "Guess nobody's home..." he muttered, looking over at the well-trimmed shrubs in the ground near the door of the house. Weird, why was the shrub wearing a hat? It then hit him.

"SHIT!" Blake yelled as the Emilio Ranucci popped out of the shrubs like a jack-in-the-box, pistol raised. Blake, luckily, had realized in time and jumped aside, throwing himself out of the way of the bullet and into the well-trimmed lawn, with Ranucci's blast instead shattering the neighbor's car window. Not missing a beat, Ranucci turned to face Rumi and Jamie, gun raised. "Move and you die!" he said forcefully, waving the pistol.

"Oww..." Blake muttered.

@canaryrose@Scarifar

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The Sisters of the Dying Branch

Dakota Lawson

_{Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I'd just stare out my window
Dreamin' of what could be
And if I'd end up happy
I would pray}

Name
Dakota Charity Lawson
_{Dakota often uses the nickname "Kota" but is fine with either her full or abbreviated names.}

Gender
Female
_{And proud.}

Age
17
_{She certainly doesn't act her age, though.}

Birthday
7/24
_{Same as her idol, Amelia Earhart.}

Sexuality
Unsure

_{Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I pray
I could breakaway}

Appearance
Kota, upon first glance, is easily approachable. Her skin is fair but quite healthy, and her hair, a soft, light brown in color, is often left unkempt and tangly, normally at shoulder-length. She has curious, deer-like cocoa eyes framed with short, brown lashes. Kota's face shape is a rugged oval and her nose is buttony. She has a multitude of scars across her figure, from falls and scrapes, most of which she couldn't remember, though she does have one big one on her right elbow from falling down an actual cliff (she has a fun story for that one). She isn't toned, per se, but her build is quite athletic, moreso than your average teen for sure.

When not wearing any sort of witch robes, Kota prefers clothes that are airy and comfortable. She gravitates naturally towards lighter tones, sky and pastel blues, and her preferred attire would just be a t-shirt and sweats, though she does have other clothes in her wardrobe that she likes. She greatly prefers sneakers and is very wobbly on heels. She has a fairly discreet nose piercing.
_{Height: 5'4"
Weight: 128 lbs}

Personality
Kota is carefree by nature, a girl that enjoys going wherever that wind will take her. She's very flighty and whimsical, with a short attention span and a difficulty in finding a genuine center in life. Kota, instead of being bogged down in responsibilities, enjoys having fun and is a natural thrill-seeker. She loves the feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins and is overall a very zealously mirthful girl. She's a fast-talker and intensely high-spirited, and she enjoys bringing others along for the ride with her. She has a disdain for authority, preferring to operate by her own rules, and she doesn't like being dragged down by others that want to put a limit on her. Kota simply enjoys being free and unrestrained, and she lives her whole life like that. Her mantra is "you only live once," and she intends on making this life her best one.

Kota is quite an airhead, and is notoriously very forgetful and absent-minded. She’s rather klutzy and has a habit of getting herself into very sticky situations. That being said, though, Kota is also rather clever and is surprisingly wily and resourceful. She is very apt at using her surroundings and resources to her advantage and is a quick thinker.

By nature, Kota is an extrovert, and those who know her know that she is a very caring, loving and nurturing person. However, she doesn’t always come off this way. She’s a passionate tease (though she doesn’t always reciprocate the jokes well) and can often seem a bit mean. At heart, though, she doesn’t intend to cause any acrimony. She values her friendships a lot and would do a lot to keep them intact.

Kota, at her core, may be very carefree, but on the rare occasion she finds a concept or an ideal that she finds attractive, she can latch onto it very strongly and become very loyal to that idea. This (hopefully, at any rate) is what she sees in the Coven- an opportunity to grow her abilities and use them to protect the material world. Hopefully, she can also have a blast while doing it.

_{I'll spread my wings, and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway}

Biography
Kota’s family history is rooted in the Americas. From her father’s side, she gets a fraction of Cherokee ancestry, and on her maternal side she’s been related to Charity Johnson, a female aviator and member of the Ninety-Nines, an organization by Amelia Earhart that was founded to help recruit female aviators. True to this ancestry, Kota has always enjoyed the feeling of flight, the ability to be midair and feel the wind flowing through her hair. The union between the two families, though, was not quite as solid. A drunken one-night stand led to a very unhappy, failing marriage, and eventually Kota’s mom left Kota’s life, moving away to try and start anew, and leaving her father to raise the young girl of 3.

Kota’s paternal grandmother was the one that first became associated with the Sisters of the Dying Branch, and that innate magical gift has been passed down to the young witchling. Kota’s life was a relatively normal one. She went to normal school, struggling through regular classes like the average teen girl, and she played a few sports, though her heart lied beyond that. At night, away from prying eyes, Kota’s father taught her the art of magic, something which fascinated Kota. She grew versed in several different branches of magic, but her strongest and most passionate field of study by far was the sacred power of flight. Night after night, Kota went out to learn how to fly. She found that while she could get a few feet off the ground and zip around a little on her own, it was much more effective (and much less taxing) to utilize some type of enchanted vehicle. The most witch-like choice was the broomstick, but she found that her family didn’t have any that were any good. She tried using a Swiffer a few times but found that it didn’t really work well either. It was a fateful birthday when she found Blue Jay- a cool snowboard. The snowboard was supposed to be for a vacation trip, but it instead became Kota’s go-to flying apparatus. She got pretty good at flight too, though flying has ended up with her in a few awkward situations, to say the least.

Now at an older age and with a good deal of magical experience, Kota has prepared to join the Coven. She finds the Coven quite fascinating and wishes to carry on a legacy of using magic to do good in the world and make a change. Though her blithe, airy nature often clashes with Coven authorities, Kota is wise enough to follow the rules enough to keep her in the organization, knowing that this Coven is definitely something she wants to be a part of.

Notable Rumors
1. That Kota once huffed paint as a dare during 9th grade art.
_{She did not.}

2. That Kota once got stuck, helpless, in a tree for 4 hours after a flying experiment gone wrong.
_{This, on the other hand, did happen.}

Greatest Fear
Claustrophobia
_{Kota’s worst fear for sure is being locked in a small space. Kota thrives on the outdoors and the feeling of being adrift in the air, liberated, so the idea being confined in a small area terrifies her.}

Magic
Kota, overall, is a talented witch that has a firm grasp of magical abilities as a whole, though she has a great deal of talent in some areas and a great lack of talent in others.

Strong Suit: Flight
Kota is a prodigal pilot and is a highly capable and highly comfortable being midair. Years of dedicated practice has given her the ability to maintain airtime for extended periods of time using her trusty snowboard Blue Jay. She can soar midair for a good period of time with her “airboard” and has boasted that she can fly with any item (not true, but she’ll try). She can also fly without an apparatus, but this is very draining and dangerous, so when without her board, she tends to just focus on levitation a few feet above the ground, which she often does just to brag. While midair, Kota has a wide abundance of tricks and talents that she can do and will often show-off with. Kota has to take great caution, though, of her remaining magic in the tank, as running out of magic mid-air can be very costly for her.

Blue Jay

Replace the dragon decal with a bird decal. The board is wrapped in a few spots with tape.

Strong Suit: Wind Magic
Kota’s other area of familiarity is with Wind Magic. Kota is talented in creating strong gusts of wind with her magical abilities. Normally, this field is generally reserved for passing the salt shaker across the table and softening some of Kota’s often-rough landings, but greater studies can hopefully yield stronger results.

Neutral: Healing Magic
While not a strong suit, Kota is capable of performing some basic healing magics to quickly seal up small wounds and do basic first aid, but is not well-versed in the area by any means.

Weak Suit: Potions
To Kota, potions is basically “magic chemistry.” She got a D+ in chemistry, and those feelings apply to potions.

Weak Suit: Other Elemental Magic
She tried using fire once. It ended very badly. She hasn’t tried since.

Other
Pet: Some witches take pride in their familiars, and Kota is no exception, though her familiar is a bit...unique. While others boast cats, perhaps dogs, and the sort, Kota’s familiar is a domesticated ferret named Astro that is the only creature on Planet Earth that is more playful than Kota. Astro’s favorite game is “how far can I get with Kota’s wallet” and his favorite food are other people’s fingers.

Astro

Color: Kota’s color is Sky Blue #87ceeb (She doesn’t know this, of course)

Theme Song: “Breakaway” - Kelly Clarkson

_{Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I love
I'll take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway}

Dakota's Relationships

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Dakota Lawson

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Diary

The hard-covered maroon book, kept under a golden lock and key, is filled with doodles of various flying objects- clouds, birds, planes, helicopters, broomsticks, snowboards, and, oddly enough, a couple ferrets. Most of the book is waffle: unmindful retellings of the day's events. However, a couple pages in the back are cordoned off from the rest.

The book's pages are filled with notes about Dakota's various coven mates, scrawled in Dakota's messy, slanted handwriting. The volume of ink on these pages compared to the others is telltale evidence of the effort that went into these thoughts.

---

---

⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣️Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨️Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

---

---

💙 Calypso ("Callie/Cal") Barnes 💙
^{"She's super sweet! Sooo nice. Such an angel. We honestly need to spend more time together. We don't see each other enough in all this Coven business."}

Dakota considers Calypso a good friend, and assumes that the sentiment is reciprocated. Dakota has a very solid relationship with Calypso- they have very similar wavelengths, after all, and their personalities mesh very well. Of all the people in the Coven, Dakota would consider herself closest with Calypso.

---

💛 Rowan ("Row/Rowie/Rowrow") Moore 💛
^{"Rowan's an angel. Must protect at all costs. Very hard to hate; very nice girl. Note: she keeps going into the woods to check on something with food. Pet deer?"}

Dakota likes Rowan a lot. Dakota is friendly with Rowan and enjoys her company. The girl is quiet, true, but a very nice soul, and is somebody Dakota likes to talk to.

---

🎆 Uaithne ("Shorty") Orvar 🎆
^{Possibly related to Keebler Elves? Just kidding, he's very nice. Very good at outdoorsy stuff, which is cool. Fun to watch him do stuff from above. Note: ask if he can hang-glide with a Dorito}

Though Uaithne is one of Dakota's prime targets for ribbing, she has a lot of respect for the shorter teen and holds him in high esteem. She likes his outdoorsy nature and appreciates his honesty and the like.

---

🙇 Iris ("Curly") Aderast 🙇
^{There appears to be some sort of long paragraph written here, though the entirety of it was scribbled through aggressively to the point where the entirety is illegible. The words "nice hair, needs magic brush"were jammed into the margins.}

Dakota likes Iris, and she finds her quirky, offbeat, aloof nature strangely charming. However, Dakota does not like-like Iris, not at all, because if she did then that would make Dakota a lesbian, and as Dakota would tell anybody who brings up the subject repeatedly, she is absolutely, positively, totally not gay.

---

👋 Hana ("Han") Song 👋
^{Very nice, from what I know. Seems to enjoy my aerial stunts? Have to get to know her better, but overall we're cool.}

Dakota finds Hana's amusement of her...amusing, to put it simply. She likes the girl and finds her to be very sweet, but doesn't know her all too well.

---

👋 Maggie ("Mags, Bookworm, Neeeeerd") Wilson 👋
^{Seems nice enough, but it's hard to tell when her face is buried in a book. Still, seems very sweet. Should talk to her more...seems more interested in books than talking, but we'll get there!}

Dakota hasn't had too many interactions with Maggie, considering that the latter is a bookworm and the former is anything but. However, Dakota has a friendly relationship with Maggie, and one in which she would like to grow in the future.

---

♨️ Charlie ("Charles") Hamlyn ♨️
^{"He's a bit of a brat. Kind of annoying. A little too pompous. But not bad, I guess. Fun to make fun of.}

Dakota isn't a big fan of Charlie. She finds him to be annoying personality-wise and can't help but crack jokes at his expense when he's around. However, she understands that he's not really a bad person, just a pain. She also finds that his nature makes him an easy target for well-aimed jokes, which is fun.

---

🌓 Arken ("Ark") Stone 🌓
^{"He's alright. Kind of fun. A bit of an ass sometimes, but normally alright.}

Dakota does think Arken is a bit conceited and can be annoying sometimes, but he has a fun personality and Dakota enjoys hanging around with him, sometimes, when he's not being a Charlie.

---

👿 Summer ("[redacted]") Abernathy 👿



Dakota fervently dislikes Summer and makes sure to put her on blast every chance she gets, whether that's behind her back or right in front of her face.

Jean-Luc Laguerre

Name
Jean-Luc Baptiste Laguerre
Generally referred to as "Jean-Luc" in full, but he won't complain if he's referred to by a nickname.

Gender
Male

Age
18

Birthday
11/30

Sexuality
Pomosexual

Appearance
Jean-Luc has an appearance that looks distant and cold. He's tall and lean, not quite buff but not very thin, with a developed musculature packed into a slightly hunched figure. One of his most notable physical characteristics is his skin, which has a dark, ebony hue to it, with a few areas of lighter coloration present on his knees and hands, where he's had some scrapes and scars in the past. He wears a stern, serious face most of the time, and in general doesn't come across as a very 'happy' person. Smiles are rare for him. He has very deep, dark brown eyes, watchful and inquisitive, and wide protruding lips.

His color scheme is mostly shades of black and violet, with white colors worn sparsely. While he does gravitate towards nicer clothes, his wardrobe is a mix of many different styles, some formal and some less so. He does make an effort to make himself look presentable at all times, but his clothing isn't always highly dressy. Jean-Luc tends to wear necklaces quite often, normally dangling a couple around his neck.

Jean-Luc has a noticeable Haitian accent, not overbearing or strong enough to make him hard to understand, but it is certainly present in his speech. It's been described as almost soothing in a way.
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 166 lbs

Personality
If Jean-Luc could be described in one word, it would be 'intense.' Jean-Luc is a serious, focused, and dedicated person, the type that rarely cracks a smile and can keep a straight face throughout some of the funniest of moments. Jean-Luc is grave and somber, collected in his thoughts and ever the cool type, detached and pensive. He much prefers the atmosphere that silence brings about rather than raucous laughter and discussion. That's not to say that Jean-Luc is antisocial; he's certainly capable of holding a conversation and quite enjoys one-on-one discussion, but is the type to shy away from larger crowds, parties, and large gatherings. He doesn't enjoy living alone, but seeks companionship over large assemblies of acquaintances.

That's not to say that Jean-Luc is always the best of companions. It depends on what you're looking for in a friend. Jean-Luc is brutally honest, blunt, and often overly harsh in his critiques. He comes off easily as very candid and almost rude, offering his own direct truths as opposed to watered-down euphemisms and compliments. He does this out of a place of caring- he believes that having strength and growing is a crucial trait, especially for the witchlings of the coven, but his 'advice' can often be disagreeable, especially to those who aren't asking for it in the first place. Jean-Luc is certainly capable of taking what he receives, and he's almost immune to negative comments, with any attempt at an insult bouncing off of him harmlessly, but he gives off an aura of authority, if not superiority. Jean-Luc, simply put, acts like an adult in a room full of children, even if he's in a room of his peers or other adults. In all due fairness to him, Jean-Luc is very sagacious and shrewd, and his advice is often rather wise, but his delivery is often unfiltered and hence rather jarring. It can take some type to get accustomed to him.

Jean-Luc, at heart, is a surprisingly loving person to those that know him. He is extremely honest and has a very high integrity, and is also a very loyal and brave person. He's not foolishly courageous, and is sometimes too clever for his own good, but he's loyal and dauntless in his actions. To see him taken aback is as rare as to see him smile, which is indeed something very rare indeed to see.

To those he dislikes, though, beware, because Jean-Luc's moral compass is often a few clicks off from what would be considered normal, and he's willing to go to lengths to punish people that he believe deserve it. He's more than willing to teach people a lesson on his own accord, and his powers can be very scary. Jean-Luc is a great friend and a surprisingly caring person once you get to know him, but God is he a terrible enemy to have.

Biography
Jean-Luc was born in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, to two capable witches in the region. Though Jean-Luc strongly identifies with Haitian culture, language, and customs, his memories of actually living in the nation of Haiti itself are few. His family left Haiti when Jean-Luc was a toddler, migrating to Raleigh in North Carolina and moving up further north later on. Jean-Luc's parents were dedicated and hard-working, and they always put their children first. While the family at first had nothing, Jean-Luc's father opened up a small Caribbean restaurant with a friend that later turned into a small chain, able to provide a more-than-suitable living for the young family. Jean-Luc was able to experience the American Dream firsthand, and was able to tangibly feel a rise from relative poverty to relative wealth.

Of course, Jean-Luc's parents are not only chefs and businesspeople. The Laguerre family has had a long history of witches in it of itself, with both paternal and maternal family trees tracing back through generations of spectacular magicians, and Jean-Luc was no different. He was closely embroiled in the Coven activities from an early age, learning magic fervently and becoming highly dedicated to its practice. While his parents balanced Coven activities with active work and social lives, Jean-Luc had tunnel-vision to become a powerful witch. Recesses for him were spent reading and practicing in secret, free time allocated to his studies of various forms of magic and curses. His skills grew rapidly, at the cost of living a normal life. Sure, he went to school and he had some friends, but he was always the quiet kid in the corner, the weird kid.

As he approaches time to join the Coven, Jean-Luc is ecstatic to be a part of the group, though, as usual, he won't ever show it.

Notable Rumors
That Jean-Luc once used a curse to kill a boyfriend that cheated on him.
He most definitely did not kill anybody, but there may have been some curses placed and some form of damage done.

Greatest Fear
Cynophobia (Fear of dogs)
Jean-Luc was bitten when he was 6, and while he isn't deathly scared of the animals, he will gladly move away from them if they get near him.

Magic
Jean-Luc is a highly skilled young witchling that would, for the most part, be considered a generalist. He has some areas of magic that seems to be more focused, however, and some areas that are weaker.

Specialty: Curses
Jean-Luc's parents were both prodigies in this field, and Jean-Luc has learned how to place curses on individuals with phenomenal results. Jean-Luc is able to put minor curses on individuals without much difficulty, able to cause targets to stub their toe on their bedframe or trip over a twig and hurt themselves, nothing significant or long-lasting. For repercussions that are significant, however, Jean-Luc would have to apply a much more significant sacrifice to make the curse effective. Though requiring sacrifice, these higher-level curses can have a very destructive effect on a person that can slowly (or quickly) rip apart their lives. Jean-Luc only has a theoretical understanding of these more destructive curses, though. Jean-Luc's two strongest weapons in his arsenals are causing wounds to become unhealing for long periods of time (the "yon blesi ki pap geri" or "unhealing wound" is in theory supposed to be eternal, but Jean-Luc is nowhere near that level of severity) and causing severe relationship damage to the people the afflicted person cares about. Jean-Luc has never used this curses yet, due to the legality of them along with the sacrifice necessary, but has a good understanding on how to cast them should he ever need to.

Specialty: Soulbonding
Jean-Luc's other unique talent is the ability to link a mortal being with an object and exercise limited manipulation of that target. Jean-Luc, through using a piece of the afflicted's body (such as hair, a tooth, anything really) or a possession of sentimental value, is able to link either another person or an inanimate object, like a doll, to the afflicted. From there, Jean-Luc can use magic to cause a sort of sympathetic link that will cause the afflicted to move and feel what the linked object (person or thing) is doing. To maintain this link for long periods of time requires a great deal of magical energy and sacrifice, especially when linking two people together. Jean-Luc would traditionally do this type of magic with a sort of voodoo doll or poppet, though he will be quick to point out that the conception of voodoo dolls being linked to Haitian Vodou is perpetuated by Western stereotypes. Still, it's a pretty awesome and terrifying magic to see in practice.

Minor Specialty: Potions
Jean-Luc is fairly skilled at making potions. It's not exactly one of his strongest suits, but he's fairly adept at doing so and is overall capable of making a good chunk of potions.

Minor Specialty: Charms
Jean-Luc is fairly skilled at creating and using charms as well. They aren't as effective as his curses are, of course, but Jean-Luc is still able to successfully create and use them on a fairly high level.

Weakness: Elemental

Weakness: Healing Magic

Other
Familiar: Jean-Luc's lovely familiar is as far from fluffy as possible. Namely, it's a Central American boa constrictor named Ghede, a lazy and often moody snake of over 6 feet that is named for a renowned Loa of Haitian vodou. Jean-Luc loves reptiles and is quite affectionate of Ghede, though Ghede seems to never return the favor towards Jean-Luc or anybody else, for that matter.

Ghede

Language: Jean-Luc is fluent in English and Haitian Creole, and rather proficient in French.

Color: Dark magenta on the Guild

Jean-Luc's Relationship Sheet

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Relations

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Jean-Luc Laguerre

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⟢ 🎆Respects ⟡ 🌓Neutral ⟡ 👋Acquaintance ⟡ 🙇It's Complicated ⟣
⟢ 💛Friend ⟡ 💙Good Friends ⟡ 💜Best Friends ⟡ ❣️Ex-Friends ⟡ 😈Frienemy ⟣
⟢ 💘Infatuation ⟡ 💓Loves ⟡ 💗Couple ⟡ 💕Basically Family ⟡ 💞Family ⟡ 💔Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟢ ♨️Tense ⟡ 💀Dislikes ⟡ 😡Hates ⟡ 👿Enemy ⟡ 👹Absolutely Loathes ⟣

---

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👋 Jeremy Lindall 👋
"Respectable. A person that holds himself with dignity and grace. A rarity in the Coven. I certainly don't mind him as a roommate."
Jean-Luc and Jeremy share an abundance of similarities, most notably an air of gravitas that Jean-Luc respects. Jean-Luc likes competent, respectful people, and Jeremy has that in spades. Jeremy also owns a reptile, which Jean-Luc is a big fan of. Fluffy animals are great and all, but they're very overrated.

---

🙇 Charlie Hamlyn 🙇
"He's...far too gregarious. He brings way too much brightness into the equation. Still, he is a respectable person with solid decorum, and I suppose he's grown on me a little."
Though it sometimes pains Jean-Luc to admit, Charlie has grown a bit on him since they started rooming together. He still finds his peppiness and Watford obsession irritating, but Jean-Luc respects Charlie's formality and maturity. They haven't exactly delved into friendship territory yet, but as of recently Jean-Luc would admit that their relationship has grown somewhat.

---

♨️ Calypso Barnes & Dakota Lawson ♨️
"They're such teenagers. They seem like if they had a choice between Starbucks and heaven, they'd choose Starbucks."

Jean-Luc doesn't hold any animosity towards either of them, but finds that they're eerily...normal, for witches, at least. They give off an air of your average teenage girl, something that Jean-Luc thinks will inhibit their talents at magic. He thinks Dakota is too immature to be a witch, and that Calypso, with her fear of blood, isn't cut out for the job.

---

♨️ Iris Aderast ♨️
"Weird."
Jean-Luc thinks she's...weird. Off. Coming from him, that's certainly something.

---

🌓 Summer Abernathy 🌓
"Mixed feelings. On one hand, she seems...very manipulative. Sneaky. Something I dislike, on principle. ON the other hand, she is certainly very accomplished and very poised, and her magic is something to be feared."
Jean-Luc doesn't have a strong dislike or respect for Summer. He finds her personality to often be a bit deceitful, which is something that Jean-Luc dislikes overall in people, but at the same time, he thinks that she's certainly talented and respectable, and has a great deal of interest and respect in her magic.

---

👋 Maggie Wilson 👋
"She seems nice. Very studious, intelligent, and well-read. Something that I can respect, for sure."
Jean-Luc has a great deal of respect for his fellow bookworm, and while the two haven't spoken much in the past (likely because they've both been absorbed in books), Jean-Luc would consider himself to be on good terms with her. He also has never been particularly harsh to her, despite his penchant for never sugar-coating anything, and seems to be awfully protective. What does that mean? Who knows? Jean-Luc certainly won't tell on the subject.

---

The Sisters of the Dying Branch

Take To The Skies!

_{Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I'd just stare out my window
Dreamin' of what could be
And if I'd end up happy
I would pray}

Name
Dakota Charity Lawson
_{Dakota often uses the nickname "Kota" but is fine with either her full or abbreviated names.}

Gender
Female
_{And proud.}

Age
17
_{She certainly doesn't act her age, though.}

Birthday
7/24
_{Same as her idol, Amelia Earhart.}

Sexuality
Unsure

_{Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I pray
I could breakaway}

Appearance
Kota, upon first glance, is easily approachable. Her skin is fair but quite healthy, and her hair, a soft, light brown in color, is often left unkempt and tangly, normally at shoulder-length. She has curious, deer-like cocoa eyes framed with short, brown lashes. Kota's face shape is a rugged oval and her nose is buttony. She has a multitude of scars across her figure, from falls and scrapes, most of which she couldn't remember, though she does have one big one on her right elbow from falling down an actual cliff (she has a fun story for that one). She isn't toned, per se, but her build is quite athletic, moreso than your average teen for sure.

When not wearing any sort of witch robes, Kota prefers clothes that are airy and comfortable. She gravitates naturally towards lighter tones, sky and pastel blues, and her preferred attire would just be a t-shirt and sweats, though she does have other clothes in her wardrobe that she likes. She greatly prefers sneakers and is very wobbly on heels. She has a fairly discreet nose piercing.
_{Height: 5'4"
Weight: 128 lbs}

Personality
Kota is carefree by nature, a girl that enjoys going wherever that wind will take her. She's very flighty and whimsical, with a short attention span and a difficulty in finding a genuine center in life. Kota, instead of being bogged down in responsibilities, enjoys having fun and is a natural thrill-seeker. She loves the feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins and is overall a very zealously mirthful girl. She's a fast-talker and intensely high-spirited, and she enjoys bringing others along for the ride with her. She has a disdain for authority, preferring to operate by her own rules, and she doesn't like being dragged down by others that want to put a limit on her. Kota simply enjoys being free and unrestrained, and she lives her whole life like that. Her mantra is "you only live once," and she intends on making this life her best one.

Kota is quite an airhead, and is notoriously very forgetful and absent-minded. She’s rather klutzy and has a habit of getting herself into very sticky situations. That being said, though, Kota is also rather clever and is surprisingly wily and resourceful. She is very apt at using her surroundings and resources to her advantage and is a quick thinker.

By nature, Kota is an extrovert, and those who know her know that she is a very caring, loving and nurturing person. However, she doesn’t always come off this way. She’s a passionate tease (though she doesn’t always reciprocate the jokes well) and can often seem a bit mean. At heart, though, she doesn’t intend to cause any acrimony. She values her friendships a lot and would do a lot to keep them intact.

Kota, at her core, may be very carefree, but on the rare occasion she finds a concept or an ideal that she finds attractive, she can latch onto it very strongly and become very loyal to that idea. This (hopefully, at any rate) is what she sees in the Coven- an opportunity to grow her abilities and use them to protect the material world. Hopefully, she can also have a blast while doing it.

_{I'll spread my wings, and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway}

Biography
Kota’s family history is rooted in the Americas. From her father’s side, she gets a fraction of Cherokee ancestry, and on her maternal side she’s been related to Charity Johnson, a female aviator and member of the Ninety-Nines, an organization by Amelia Earhart that was founded to help recruit female aviators. True to this ancestry, Kota has always enjoyed the feeling of flight, the ability to be midair and feel the wind flowing through her hair. The union between the two families, though, was not quite as solid. A drunken one-night stand led to a very unhappy, failing marriage, and eventually Kota’s mom left Kota’s life, moving away to try and start anew, and leaving her father to raise the young girl of 3.

Kota’s paternal grandmother was the one that first became associated with the Sisters of the Dying Branch, and that innate magical gift has been passed down to the young witchling. Kota’s life was a relatively normal one. She went to normal school, struggling through regular classes like the average teen girl, and she played a few sports, though her heart lied beyond that. At night, away from prying eyes, Kota’s father taught her the art of magic, something which fascinated Kota. She grew versed in several different branches of magic, but her strongest and most passionate field of study by far was the sacred power of flight. Night after night, Kota went out to learn how to fly. She found that while she could get a few feet off the ground and zip around a little on her own, it was much more effective (and much less taxing) to utilize some type of enchanted vehicle. The most witch-like choice was the broomstick, but she found that her family didn’t have any that were any good. She tried using a Swiffer a few times but found that it didn’t really work well either. It was a fateful birthday when she found Blue Jay- a cool snowboard. The snowboard was supposed to be for a vacation trip, but it instead became Kota’s go-to flying apparatus. She got pretty good at flight too, though flying has ended up with her in a few awkward situations, to say the least.

Now at an older age and with a good deal of magical experience, Kota has prepared to join the Coven. She finds the Coven quite fascinating and wishes to carry on a legacy of using magic to do good in the world and make a change. Though her blithe, airy nature often clashes with Coven authorities, Kota is wise enough to follow the rules enough to keep her in the organization, knowing that this Coven is definitely something she wants to be a part of.

Notable Rumors
That Kota once huffed paint as a dare during 9th grade art.
_{She did not.}

Greatest Fear
Claustrophobia
_{Kota’s worst fear for sure is being locked in a small space. Kota thrives on the outdoors and the feeling of being adrift in the air, liberated, so the idea being confined in a small area terrifies her.}

Magic
Kota, overall, is a talented witch that has a firm grasp of magical abilities as a whole, though she has a great deal of talent in some areas and a great lack of talent in others.

Strong Suit: Flight
Kota is a prodigal pilot and is a highly capable and highly comfortable being midair. Years of dedicated practice has given her the ability to maintain airtime for extended periods of time using her trusty snowboard Blue Jay. She can soar midair for a good period of time with her “airboard” and has boasted that she can fly with any item (not true, but she’ll try). She can also fly without an apparatus, but this is very draining and dangerous, so when without her board, she tends to just focus on levitation a few feet above the ground, which she often does just to brag. While midair, Kota has a wide abundance of tricks and talents that she can do and will often show-off with. Kota has to take great caution, though, of her remaining magic in the tank, as running out of magic mid-air can be very costly for her.

Blue Jay

Replace the dragon decal with a bird decal. The board is wrapped in a few spots with tape.

Strong Suit: Wind Magic
Kota’s other area of familiarity is with Wind Magic. Kota is talented in creating strong gusts of wind with her magical abilities. Normally, this field is generally reserved for passing the salt shaker across the table and softening some of Kota’s often-rough landings, but greater studies can hopefully yield stronger results.

Neutral: Healing Magic
While not a strong suit, Kota is capable of performing some basic healing magics to quickly seal up small wounds and do basic first aid, but is not well-versed in the area by any means.

Weak Suit: Potions
To Kota, potions is basically “magic chemistry.” She got a D+ in chemistry, and those feelings apply to potions.

Weak Suit: Other Elemental Magic
She tried using fire once. It ended very badly. She hasn’t tried since.

Other
Pet: Some witches take pride in their familiars, and Kota is no exception, though her familiar is a bit...unique. While others boast cats, perhaps dogs, and the sort, Kota’s familiar is a domesticated ferret named Astro that is the only creature on Planet Earth that is more playful than Kota. Astro’s favorite game is “how far can I get with Kota’s wallet” and his favorite food are other people’s fingers.

Astro

Color: Kota’s color is Sky Blue #87ceeb (She doesn’t know this, of course)

Theme Song: “Breakaway” - Kelly Clarkson

_{Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I love
I'll take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway}

《 H. E. R. O. 》

St. Petersburg, Russia

_{8:04 PM
Летний замок
"Summer Castle"}

Meanwhile, across the planet, in a beautiful palace in St. Petersburg, Russia, a man was currently sitting in a dining room. He was middle aged, with clear age in his face and pale, gold eyes, and he was somewhat handsome in an almost rugged way. He had a gaunt but handsome face, with a devilish cheek scar, and he had long locks of raven-black hair that fell to nearly his shoulders, with a matching full beard. He was wearing what he would call his costume, but really wasn't much of a costume at all, and was more of an elaborate formal attire, with a velvet three-piece suit, black slacks, a white cravat, and a heavy necklace with a gold chain and ruby core. Draped around his shoulders was a black cape with red fringes, tattered at the edge. His eyes showed experience in them, with a deep, sickly gold color that looked very much unnatural and even more so unsettling.

His royal-ish appearance was further enhanced by his surroundings- he was currently sitting in a very elaborate dining room at the end of a long, equally elaborate dining table, etched with various depictions of the world being destroyed. In front of him was a large bowl of thick red borshch. He held a golden spoon in his hand, and was just finishing up his meal, when a man entered the room. He was elderly, with combed gray hair an spectacles, dressed in a tuxedo, and he spoke with a curt British accent. "Sir, you have a call from Sir Paradox."

"Put him on the line," the man at the table said to his butler, who nodded. "Immediately." The butler walked out before returning moments later with a black device, which he placed on the table in front of the man, next to his bowl of hot borshch. As the butler exited the room, the device projected a green holographic screen into the air in front of the man.

"Commander Zero. I hope this isn't a bad time."

"Provided this is important news, it is never a bad time. I presume this is on the status of the Gugliano venture?"

"Astute as always, sir. It seems the Guglianos have captured another HERO, according to their most recent reports. Apparently, she was trying to rescue another hero currently in captivity, but failed."

"Interesting, interesting. Well, the more, the merrier." He took another spoonful of borshch. "Do the Guglianos know who these heroes are?

"Not a clue. But it's been a simple matter for me to download their surveillance footage and run it through a facial recognition database. The girl is Static, or Brianna Hart. Young hero, maybe a year in?"

The Commander looked up at the ceiling, in thought, as he pushed his bowl of borshch aside and began to snack on a lovely roasted leg of lamb. "Never heard of her. Unlike Hugo to put a pawn like her up first when he has much stronger pieces up his sleeves for sure..."

"Indeed. The Guglianos don't know it, yet, but I've located two other heroes using the facial recognition software. Codenames Wish and Aria, or Angelica Alexander and Patricia Donnelly."

He continued to chew. "That first girl seems like another no-name, but Donnelly..." He swallowed his food before chuckling. "If she's grown up anything like her father, her powers might be effective for undercover operations. Speaking of fathers, how's my little angel doing?"

"Malady is currently present in the same room with them. She incapacitated Static a few moments ago."

"She's grown up so fast," the Commander reminisced, before returning his attention to the glowing green screen. "I imagine you won't be disclosing any of this to the Gugliano family? Yet, at least?"

"No...I enjoy watching Vincent Gugliano suffer."

"As do I, sometimes. But if the operation is put in jeopardy, make sure to shut them down. The Gugliano mission is not a priority for us, but every hero we can get in this phase of our plan is helpful towards our end goal."

"Can do, sir. And one last thing? Assassins are en-route to the palace."

The Commander chuckled as he stood, slicing the empty bowl, bare plate, and single leg bone forwards. "Oh, Paradox. Such a spoiler. It would have been infinitely more interesting had I not known in advance. Well, Godspeed, Paradox."

"And to you," he responded, before hanging up.

Commander Zero strolled towards the large wooden doors that led outside the Dining Room. He pushed them open, looking out into the corridor. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking down at the floor. "Whoever you are, I can hear you in the air vents. Come out and face me like a man."

As if on cue, the air vent in the corridor smashed open, and a man jumped out. He was in all black, a hood over his head and a mask on his face. He landed on the floor, ice crystallizing around his landing point, before he turned to face the Commander, a sword of ice forming in his hands. Zero seemed utterly disappointed as two more heroes dropped down from the vents in the dining room- a tall girl with a blonde ponytail and green eyes and a bald man with thick stubble and a bulletproof vest that was wielding an assault rifle. Commander Zero shook his head. "This is truly, truly sad. This is the best you could come up with? Pathetic." As he spoke, around his body, a strange fog, almost like clouds, began to form, spreading out among the room quickly as he sighed in disappointment. "I would have thought MOSCOW had better hero assassins at their disposal instead of you Three Stooges. Truly shows how far ICOSA has fallen, no?"

The ice sword hero pointed his sword at the Commander before thrusting towards him at high speeds. Without blinking an eye, Commander Zero raised his hand and blasted the ice sword hero with a blast of lightning, sending him flying down the corridor, smoke rising from his body, until he stopped, lying unconscious on the ground down the hallway. Commander Zero turned around to the other two flabbergasted heroes. "Next victims?”

Eventually, the woman hero decided that she would act, charging at Commander Zero, fists raised, but with a simple swipe of his hand a strong gust of wind carried her across the room into the wall (very hard). The other hero raised his gun but was promptly shocked by a beam of lightning, sending him crashing into the table. Commander Zero shook his head. "One of these days, I long for a true challenge again. Reinhardt, clean this up,” he called to his butler, before walking back to the corridor again, raising his nose as he glanced down the way.

"I’m going for a quick stroll. By the time I return, I expect a nice glass of Bordeaux waiting for me.”

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The Sisters of the Dying Branch - A Witch Coven RP

Alright, I think it's about time I ruin an RP that isn't my own for a change.

《 H. E. R. O. 》

Blake watched in amazement as Rumi translated the pamphlet into some nice, normal English with ease. it was pretty cool that Rumi was able to switch between Italian and English with so much fluency. Blake could hardly pick up Spanish in high school, and to this day he still only held a rudimentary knowledge of the language, and a good portion of his Spanish lexicon was insults, which while fun are not of much use on secret missions (except when dealing with Latino gangs, he supposed). Blake listened to Rumi's speech intently, taking the info in. So there was some sort of evil cleaning organization on the loose? And they specialized in...wine stains? It was only until Rumi reached the last point that Blake realized that they entire pamphlet was a (very bad) front for some sort of operation. Blake nodded with a grin as Rumi noted the address. "Sounds like a plan! They won't be ready for us at all."

Blake reluctantly followed Jamie out of the warehouse towards the car. "Hey, Jamie, small piece of advice? Don't go over the lines in the road that divide traffic, please. Also, if we miss an exit, we can go to the next one! It's not a problem! You don't have to, like, turn around and go back into traffic." He looked at Rumi warily as he entered the car again, making sure to cross his fingers before Jamie hit the gas.

---

15 Running River Lane was an establishment only a short jog away from the current Gugliano fiasco, and unlike the gigantic compound located a ways away, the establishment wasn't much to talk about. Located in the more suburban area of Watervale, the house was a small brick townhouse, large enough to support a family for sure but not so large as to be viewed as a luxurious establishment. The building was the current home of Emilio Ranucci, Vinnie's top advisor and consigliere and one of his most loyal attendants. Ranucci was currently inside his office, a large room on the first floor that looked just like any other home office. The key difference, though, was a classic bookcase lever that opened up a hidden passageway. The passageway led underground to the Gugliano compound, allowing for quick communication, transportation, and potential escape for both locations.

Ranucci had come to the location instead of attending the meeting, as he had much more important issues at hand. He looked down at his phone idly, waiting for the important call to come in. At exactly the time it was scheduled, his phone rang, with Ranucci immediately picking it up.

"Dr. Osberg?" Ranucci asked, phone against his ear, as he paced the office. He looked up at the taxidermized elk head on his wall. "A pleasure to finally speak with you."

"As for you," the voice, cool and collected. "Please, though, Peter will do."

"I'm really insistent on formalities. Family things."

"Well, then, I will accept that. Now, Vinnie has told me quite a bit about your work. Says your a very loyal asset."

"Oho, well, I appreciate the compliment from Mr. Gugliano. I've worked for him for a long time. A lot of experience."

"So I've heard, so I've heard. Now, onto business. The Commander promised your organization financial resources, something my colleagues and I have access to in abundance. I've wired a large payment to your chosen bank account just seconds ago. More payments as needed will be delivered in increments."

"Thank you, Doctor." Ranucci paused. "Before you go, though, your boss told us that we would be getting your assistance...we have some heroes at the Compound, your presence would be greatly appreciated-"

"No thank you," the phone man said, cutting Ranucci off. "I try not to align myself with the classic Italian mafia types. Especially the type that leads the enemy...right to their base. Good day." The man on the phone hung up.

Ranucci squinted at the phone, before walking over to the office window, parting his blinds. An old, beaten-up car was pulling up in front of the house. "Well, shit," he muttered, opening his desk drawer and taking out a handgun. "Hero bastards Just my luck."

@canaryrose@Scarifar

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Grace listened intently as Tom described his own plan of action, as opposed to Grace's (highly pragmatic) plan of leaving and phoning for backup. "Okay, okay, here's what we do. We hide out until the lockdown is over, then we come back out and bust everybody out. Okay? Okay, Angie can probably use her power to make herself look like somebody who doesn't need to be ID checked, or some shit, and then she can cover for Patty. Fuck, if they hurt Patty they're absolutely getting slammed into the ground..."

"Believe me, I'll help you there," Grace responded, her face stern and serious, as she looked dead-on at Tom. "Alright, I know you want to stay and help them, I do too, but I'm just not sure we can pull it off. We'd be better off looking for backup instead. I mean, what type of place can we hide-" She yelped as gravity suddenly decided to flip, with Grace launching towards the ceiling, stopping herself with her feet as she watched Tom, who was also upside-down, open up a ceiling hatch and crawl through. "Yeonglihan," she muttered, looking at Tom with approval, as she crawled over, taking Tom's hand and crawling into the attic space. It was quite dirty up there, and her clothes would get dirty, but she frankly did not care that muuch about that at all.

At his request for a flashlight, Grace rummaged through her pockets. "Nothing, but I can do this..." She opened a small swirling portal in her palm that cast a small amount of magenta light in the area. As Tom closed the hatch, Grace stood, looking around the room, guided by the small light from her palm portal, until she found a ceiling-mounted lightbulb. She pulled on the chain next to the bulb, casting much brighter lights across the attic space, as she clenched her palm, closing the portal.

"Good idea. I guess we'll wait here for a few minutes until the coast is clear," Grace said to Tom, before looking around the area. It wasn't a large space at all, and was mostly storage, with several trunks, chests, crates and boxes lying around everywhere, with most of them covered in thick dust. Grace's eyes returned to Tom. "Thanks for the assist," she said, her voice at a quiet whisper, as her violet eyes locked onto him. "I feel so bad for them. They're...they're probably going to do terrible things," she said quietly. "Awful."

@Danvers@KaijuBaragon@Amethyst@canaryrose@Infinite Cosmos

^{1. yeonglihan (영리한): clever}

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