Indy Cooper

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Forge

Guest starring: DearTrickster

---

Los Angeles, California

Some time near dawn

Zoë was not feeling that it was going to be a constructive day, despite the upcoming call and pending move. Having slept for a fitful few hours, she was now standing bleary eyed in what remained of her kitchen, directing her helpers in packing up and shipping off the rest of her possessions to storage. Her work phone was in her pocket, along with her secured phone, while she held the civilian one in one hand, flipping through real estate listing across the country. She had already decided against remaining in California unless something spectacular showed up, and nothing had. Setting down the phone for a moment on the bare formica counter, she retrieved her overly large mug and sipped the now lukewarm tea she had made earlier, watching the workers over the rim of the cup.

Alex, one of several local boys that had decided to work with her full time while she was in LA, was pacing up to her nervously. The young man was perhaps twenty, fresh out of prison for gang-related crimes since he was fifteen, had leapt at the opportunity to make 'legit' money, and had so far proven to be rather more steadfast and loyal than the Frenchwoman had been honestly expecting from a young Latino covered in gang tattoos and wearing simply the worst in the latest “gangsta” fashion. No book resembles its cover, I suppose, she thought idly, watching him approach. He, like the rest, had at least glimpsed that she was a meta with significant power, and most of them let him speak for them, too scared lest she do something awful. She hadn't given them reason to suspect she would, but perhaps the social stigma of being a villain didn't help.

“Yes, Alex?” she asked as he finally got within a reasonable speaking distance. “Is there something the matter?”

“Uh...No, Miss, at least, not with the packing. We're almost through.” He had gotten over the habit of wincing in anticipation of being punished while talking to her, for which she was grateful, though he still remained incapable of meeting her gaze.

“What is it, then?”

“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his shaved head, “it's just, we was all wondering...If you're leaving, is there still gonna be a job? Cause a lot of us gots family here, we can't just go, y'know?”

Ah, I was wondering when this was going to come up. Magnifique. “No, Alex, you won't be coming with me, but there will still be a job for all of you. I will be maintaining my business interests here, and in fact I have a job for you as soon as you are done here, if you want it.”

“Huh?” She knew he would be confused. She had yet to show any real faith in any of them. A byproduct of the natural paranoia that came with being a villain, she supposed.

“There are two tasks, one of which is very much more complicated than the other. First, though, I want you to take down this number.” She rattled off the Wraith number, the one phone she didn't have on her because no one was ever stupid enough to call her on it. “That is how you will stay in contact with me from now on. I want you to use burner phones whenever possible, at least until I can get you a secure line.”

Thankfully, Alex was a very intelligent lad. He would have to be, for her to work with him, but he was a cut above the rest as well. Not his fault the system let him and his family down.

“Okay,” he said, finishing typing it into his own device.

“Next, I need you to take several documents, which I will email to you in the next couple of days, over to the real estate office to purchase a property for me. I will be using it as my new center here, so I want you to make sure everything is nice and legal, yes?”

“Si,” he mumbled, still typing in his phone. She knew by now that he was taking notes, not texting someone, but it still irked her somewhat. Couldn't he use a notepad or something?

“Following that, I-” She was interrupted by a buzzing from her pocket. “Sorry, I have to take this,” she said, setting her mug down and waving him off. “I will be in contact. Finish up here please.” As he headed back over to where the rest were joking around and moving the last box onto the truck, Zoë retrieved the phone from her pocket. Her heart sank slightly, as it always did, when it wasn't her secret line. But it was work, and she had expected it. She flipped the little disposable open and hit the button for accepting the call.
 
A distinctly french accented voice greeted Forge by her alias in English, “Good morning, Madame Forge. This is Jacque with the Parisian Syndicate. Are you free to speak with me?”
 
Jacque waited patiently, minor background noise of industrial machinery could be heard filtering through the earpiece.
 
The villainess was taken aback for a moment, and her accent came back without her bidding. “Paris Syndicate? How have I not heard of this before now?” She shook her head and continued, schooling her voice but not bothering to hide her accent now that she had spoken with it. “Never mind. I am free, taking care of last minute business. You have something you need done?”
 
A slight pause as Jacque noticed the accent change, trying to figure out where she was from, naturally slipping into French. “I do not have work for you but rather hoping to set up a meeting for my partner whom wishes to employ you. They are in need of a metahuman who is particularly skilled with controlling fire.” He added, pleasantly, “The Shroud Syndicate is an international organisation, we operate out of Paris.”
 
He went on, his footsteps echoing across metal walkways. “I noted you are largely interested in the situation regarding these Hounds of Humanity, yes? My partner is as well.”
 
Zoë slipped easily back into her mother tongue, despite not having spoken it for months. “Yes. They are...a bother. I would prefer they were eliminated, burnt from their holes, and reduced to ash before they cause any more issues for anyone.”
 
She smiled to herself and said, “As for skill with fire, you will not find anyone who is hotter than I am. And I have some additional skills that may come in handy, depending on what your partner has in mind. I will say now, however, my services do not come cheap. Do you have a price range in mind?”
 
He laughed shortly at that, “Excellent. We share the same sentiment then. As for payment we can afford your rates upfront in full, half - whichever is convenient. You hold a reasonable reputation from what I have seen, running independently of course.” The footsteps paused then carried on at a leisurely pace as he explained, “For sake of convenience my partner will come to you and discuss payment themselves.”
 
“We have only have one simple condition to be understood before such a meeting to be agreed upon.” Jacque said,  “When will be a good time and place for this meeting? Barring any security measures, and protection of anonymity. We understand secrecy above all else. Names, location, accounts for payment will be done through secured networks. If you are interested, of course.”
 
Her eyebrows shot up at the words ‘up front’. That was unexpected. Whoever these people were they were obviously well-funded. She responded in French, herself. “I could make my way clear of my current task within the next few hours, so whenever your associate feels they can make it to Los Angeles will be fine. With the number of incidents with our mutual enemies, the only secure location I can recommend is where I am standing.” She frowned, rubbing her elbow with her free hand.
 
“If I remember flight times correctly, they will not be here until tomorrow, so I will have some extra security for their sake, but otherwise, I think it will be fine. If you have an email address I can send you the information, or the broker you spoke with before would also have it.”
 
“In case it wasn’t obvious, I am interested. Jobs are running a bit dry with this group’s activity, hence my haste to deal with them. So, what is your condition?”
 
“Ah yes, flights. That will not be the case, they are in Las Vegas at the moment. Enroute to Los Angeles before they leave the United States.” He said, “Security will not be necessary, they have their own… ehm detail in place. I will retrieve the email address and any additional contact information from the brokerage, I will forward it to my partner.” He took a deep breath, taking great care in his word choice. “The condition is, as I said, very simple. My partner… has a very particular expectation of respect. If you agree to not use crude language and maintain your professionalism during this meeting and subsequent employment, you will find yourself some very lucrative work following this job.” He added, rather slyly, “The Syndicate is always in need of hiring exceptional people.”
 
Zoë’s eyes narrowed as she pondered how a flight would not be necessary for getting from Las Vegas to here, but the person must either be a meta or have decided to drive. ”Very well, in that case I suppose whenever is convenient for them. Let the contact know my currently listed home address is acceptable.”
 
Her eyes lightened up and she smiled wide as she learned of the ‘condition’ of this supposed employer, though she was feeling a bit on edge at the terminology being thrown around. ”I am sure following normal business protocols should be easy enough, sir. I would like you to keep in mind, however, that there is a reason I have been an independent contractor, and unless the offer your partner makes is something utterly miraculous, I will not be taking employment with anyone, Syndicate or otherwise, in the traditional sense.
 
An exhale of relief but he chuckled at her comment regarding the Syndicate but choose not to comment further. There was no point to pushing someone on the first phone call. She would come to see their resources first hand.

Having stated that, her voice flipped up to an almost sickeningly cheery register, and not all of it was false. She felt good to have work, and even better to have it from her fellow countrymen. ”One security measure I will insist on, of course, is that we exchange photos? That way neither of us attempts to kill the other before the meeting can get underway. Unless your partner would prefer passphrases?”
 
“Passphrases, they prefer to do introductions themselves.” He replied. “The passphrase will be Fête de la Fédération for my partner. What will yours be?”
 
Zoë pondered for a moment, and then replied, ”La Maid devrait être un chevalier. Any idea when I can expect this partner of yours. I would like my associates to be gone by the time they arrive here.”
 
Jacque paused for a moment, finally able to place her accent. “I hear Orléans is rather lovely this time of year. If you don’t mind my saying, of course. Your accent is acute to my ears. Do not fret, I think an American would struggle to tell the difference,” He laughed, “Your passphrase is rather telling.”
 
Switching back to English, she smiled and said with a snort, ”Americans can’t tell their own accents from each other, what chance do they have with a more refined language? You can take the girl out of the city, but not the city out of the girl, eh? It would be very nice there right now, but I have not been home in a long time. Something about the work being not conducive to living in a city I love.”
 
Jacque followed suit as well, switching back to English, “You can expect my partner sooner rather than later. As I said, they are enroute.” He thought of warning Forge of The Ambassador’s more eccentric qualities but that would certainly ruin the surprise. “Merci beaucoup, Madame. We look forward to working with you.”
 
”You as well, monsieur. Have a pleasant afternoon!”

Zoë snapped her phone shut, glancing over to where the truck was just pulling away from the door and Alex was busying himself sweeping before closing the place up and leaving her alone. Well that was stupid. Now I have to go get new furniture and everything just for a meeting. She headed over to Alex, who reacted to her movement much like a rabbit would, freezing in place until he could see she wasn't angry. Which was also stupid, since everyone could see when she was getting angry. The walls tended to ignite.

"Alex, I need one more thing from you today, and then you are free to go do whatever it is you do during the day."

"Uhh, sure, yes ma'am. What is it?"

She pulled out a wad of bills from her pocket and peeled off what she thought was probably more than enough. "Go to, I don't know, Walmart or something, and get the nicest lawn furniture they have. Table, chairs, and whatnot. Go get me...ugh. Some crackers and fruit as well. Take your time, I will be gone for a while myself, but then I expect you back here by eleven, yes?"

"Okay."

"Oh, and keep whatever you don't use, but it had best be adequate items."

As he hurried off, Zoë opened her civilian phone and began typing in several queries. A local bakery, a tiny little boutique eatery that probably cost more than most people made in a week to eat at, and the 'best' winery around. Considering who she had just spoken too, none of this would be good enough, but it wasn't for her, either, and she was not likely to find actual French cuisine here on short notice without going into Hollywood, which she refused to do.

---

Several hours later

The sun had finally stopped making the ceiling glow with reflected light through the windows, something she hadn't had to deal with for while, since she had installed thick curtains over them when she had moved in. Checking her phone again, she sighed. Shouldn't have gotten rid of the television yet, she thought to herself, eyes glazing over slightly while she flipped idly through to available games to buy for her phone. It could be useful during the long dull hours of her career between jobs, though dulling her senses might be a danger.

She stretched one leg underneath the little table and set her heel on the opposite chair, pausing to admire Alex's purchases. The table was a simple small, circular table, wrought iron leg with four clawed feet and the same metal around the outside, framing a four foot expanse of small slate tiles in muted greens, greys, and blues. A small hole in the center would fit an umbrella that came with it, though she had bid Alex to keep it in his truck until later. The chairs were the same iron work, though they featured solid boards of some deeply dark-stained wood, formed so that the things were not at all uncomfortable.

Arranged on the table were several plates filled with slices of cured meats, fruits cut to bite-sized cubes, and slabs of a few different cheeses. Zoë had sampled two of them already, and though one was some sort of Irish cheese, and one of the ones she hadn't tried was a German, she had to admit it wasn't a terrible selection. Alex had done the best, however, in finding a bakery that sold traditional baguettes, a few of which were nestled into a woven basket with a cloth covering them to keep them from going stale. Her own prize purchases were several bottles of French import wines, the prices on which had been quite reasonable, especially given the hour. She had also not been able to stop herself from buying a set of four fluted wineglasses, the stems of which had a distinctly flame-like motif. All-in-all, her fellow countryman (or woman, they hadn't said) would at least find this attempt at a café table not offensive.

Having reviewed her preparations in other cases, she mentally checked off her own person. A simple red baseball tee with black accents, loose-fitting jeans, and a set of running shoes, all of which were as inexpensive as her the rest of her wardrobe so she didn't ever have to regret incinerating something nice. A snub nose .38 revolver in one pocket, and a pair of long fighting knives attached to the underside of her seat by way of metal brackets. The whole of the table could also easily be a weapon if she was pressed. And above, on the ceiling, a large box full of twisted scrap metal she had scraped off of her target range before packing everything up, easily within range for her to burn it open and rain searing shards of steel down on anyone inside a thirty foot circle. She didn't honestly expect to need any of these things, but knowing how dangerous some of her clients could be, and not knowing anything about this person or their 'security detail', caution was her comfort here.

Satisfied she had done everything she had the time to do to prepare, she lapsed back into boredom. Hopefully they were here before she had picked the food clean.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

Yen

She felt her companion slip off, and he called out for her to follow, but without his guidance, she was stuck. Knowing he had had an idea to help her, she waited, snapping her fan open, ducking behind it and feeling the rattle of bullets hitting it. If it only held out until whatever it was he did went trhough, she would be alright. He touched one, and she immediately triangulated it's position. Those are legs, then. It is massive.

And then the cold rain of the fire suppression system came down, infused with just a touch of ki, and Yen's whole world lit up around her. For a moment, she was disoriented. She was in a hallway, the entryway to the stadium perhaps? And now she could find her enemies. It took her but a moment to formulate a plan, and she put it into hasty action, seeing as Calvin was stuck against the wall and exposed right now.

The fan whipped around, and with it came the gale force wind she had charged up, the ki infused air blowing projectiles out of the air as if she was swatting flies. She used the momentum of the swing to fling herself up and forward, right foot snapping out as she passed one robot, pushing air like a blade out from her toes. She must have hit something vitals, as it fell like a puppet with its strings cut, though the light dusting of ki didn't allow her to see the details of what happened.

As she came down in the middle of a rough half dozen, she bent forward and swung the fan around in two wide circles from her back, using it as a shield from the hail of fire now aimed her way. On the second round, she slid along the ice Calvin had left behind, throwing kicks the whole way and pushing herself with a gust so she moved just a hair faster. Several more of the inhuman drones faltered and fell, legs crippled at the knee joints.

As she slid underneath the large one, she launched herself up with another gust, resembling nothing more than a wire-fu actor. But instead of flying through the air like an idiot, she landed lightly on the back of the things lower leg, then swiftly ran up its side, landing punches at any spot that didn't seem heavily armoured. She didn't seem to be doing much damage, but the incoming rounds from its compatriots did. Armour piercing rounds slammed into the thing from multiple directions as the others tried to track her unnaturally fast movements.

Reaching the top, she decided to try something that she never would on a human. Snapping her fan closed and sheathing it, she put both hands flat against the camera housing that acted as the things eyes and pushed with the air as if she was doing so against the ground, but she hardened it as well. Screaming, whistling air flowed forth through the gaps in the things head, and sparks flew out of nearly every joint as she flew backwards, slowing just enough to land neatly next to Calvin and smile at him. “Told you I could be useful.”

Her 'awesome' image fell apart as she felt her left leg falter a bit. She had been grazed across the knee and thigh, and blood oozed out of more wounds on her torso and right arm. Snapping the fan open as a shield for them both, she muttered to herself, “Damn. Not fast enough yet.”

@wxps350

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Nicole

LHPD

Of course he had to go. He doesn't have time to take care of one stupid teenager when he saves the world on a weekly basis, dumbass. Nicky sighed as she waited for paperwork to be finalised. She had finally relented, after deflating following Icon's departure, and given the police her real name, but refusing to give any details beyond that and her age. She had no doubt they would force her to become a ward of the state, but she was hoping that this Weird Ward or whatever it was would be less...Did she even know what orphanages were like? Not really, but they weren't gonna find a foster family for her anyway.

As time ticked by, she began to realise exactly how screwed up her head was. She was staring at the clock, and she couldn't actually keep track of how many seconds had gone by between seconds. It was as if the entire concept of time was gone from her head, vanished along with her old life. God, stop being morbid.

She carefully marked down, on the little piece of paper and pencil stub they gave her, what time things were happening. By her own mental reckoning, interminable decades, or maybe just seconds, had passed between them telling her they were going to release her and them actually doing so, though it had in actuality been something like three hours. When they led her out, though, it was directly to a squad car, where the officer driving explained that, because of the late hour and her age, they couldn't just let her wander off, so she was being taken directly to the Center.

---

The Wayward Center, Lost Haven

Hours of driving later, they pulled up to an old brownstone building, two stories tall with an iron-gated entry. There was a short, plump woman standing just behind the gate as they parked, and Nicky could see from the car that she had just been roused from bed, probably by a phone call. She idly wondered who had called in this visit from the station. Her hair was only in a loose bun, and she held a robe tight around her despite the warm summer night's air. She smiled at the officer as the woman walked Nicky up to the gate.

“Sorry we're coming here so late, Alice, but this is definitely in your field, not ours.” The blonde grinned sheepishly and winced at the cavernous yawn the older woman had as her first response, but calmed as she waved her hand in a dismissing motion.

“No...ah, excuse me. No, it's alright, Patricia, I understand. Let's see what we've got, hmm?” Alice swung the gate open to admit them, but the officer shook hr head and held out a slim manilla envelope.

“Sorry, can't stay. The whole city's going nuts the past few days. I'll stop by for tea some time this week if I can manage it, okay?”

“Absolutely, dear!” Alice turned to Nicole. “So. You're probably wondering why here, and why I am being so friendly, judging by the look on your face. But as it is almost four, I think your questions and mine can wait until we get some breakfast in us, yes?”

Nicole followed the woman sullenly into the building. The front entrance was home-y, with several older sofas and a coffee table, but also felt slightly clinical. There were several telephones at a conference table in an adjoining room, and the whole place had a warm yellow paint on the walls. Several doors led away, but they turned up a hall and into a dining room that more resembled a mess hall, and a kitchen divided only by a partition wall.

Alice gestured to a seat and whisked herself into the kitchen, clearly more awake than she was just moments ago. Nicole sat down heavily and propped her head in her hands, elbows on the table. She wished she had something to listen to, but her bag has disappeared in the bombing and she hadn't felt like fighting with the police to try and find it. Alice glanced at her over the divider and started in with the inquisition.

“So, young lady, what brings you to the Wayward Center?”

Nicole narrowed her eyes, but she couldn't really hear any condescension in the woman's voice. “Stupid police who can't tell a Chinese bomber from a teenager tangled up in a bike rack.”

Alice smiled at her, brown hair somehow now put into a neat ponytail. “I'm sure they were just investigating all the possibilities, but that's not what I was referring to.”

“Yeah? Okay, so I'm homeless.” Nicky was not liking where this was going.

“Oh, dear, I knew that already, without even opening the envelope. But they only bring metahumans here.”

God damn it, everyone and their dog already knows! Nicole scowled. “I don't wanna talk about it.”

The woman nodded, like she had already seen that coming, and went back to her cooking. There was the sound of eggs being cracked. Nicole could see the envelope sitting on the table not five feet from her. She was almost curious enough to investigate, but she felt like this was some sort of stupid test, and if this whole place was full of metahumans, then this Alice lady would be really powerful to keep them in line. Instead, she listened as the woman started talking, this time describing the place.

Apparently, the second floor was all bedrooms, including the one she'd be assigned to. There was a small garden out back for relaxation and food, and the first floor held the conference room she first saw, two class rooms, a sort of doctor's office, and several offices for running the place. The basement held their storage and also a practise room where people who didn't know how their powers might work could explore them. Nicky perked up at the mention of the practise room, almost without realising it.

“Ah,” said the motherly woman, coming around the corner with two plates, sliding one if front of her. “So you don't know what you can do, either. That's no issue, we'll figure it out together.”

“No, it's not-” The teenager froze as she looked at the plate. A perfect omelette, with green onions and diced tomato over the top, exactly how her mother used to make them.

”Nicole, come downstairs,” her mother's voice drifted down from the lower floor of the duplex. “Breakfast is up, girl, and I'll not have you lazing about all day!” Nicky moved her short limbs underneath her bed, moving as fast as her ten year old body would allow. She would not miss out on Saturday breakfast! She tossed off her pajamas and slid into a little summer dress from her closet hurriedly, then nearly flew down the rickety stairs and slid into her seat at the table almost as soon as the plate was in front of her spot. Her siblings were quick to follow. They all knew that today was the free day at the zoo, and while Dad couldn't come because of work, Mom had promised for a month now that they could go.

“Hey, come on, it's okay. Come back now.” Alice's voice was in a gentle whisper. Nicky came up out of her memory with the older woman's arms wrapped around her tightly. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, dripping off of her nose and on to the woman's robe. It was soft, and fluffy, and above all, smelled like a mom. Three months of grief and pain and anger came flooding back from wherever she had been holding it. She broke down, screaming and sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe, but since she didn't need to, it didn't stop. She could hear Alice say something to someone else in the room, but it was quick, and the woman immediately turned back to her newest ward. She was being rocked, but she couldn't be angry. Emotions ran through her like a river.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Mostly Ded, really. I just said "Yeah, do that thing!"

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

_{banner credit to Nitemare Shape}

---

Time: Early Morning - Present Day
Location: Lost Haven, Maine

Berenice had been people watching for less than ten minutes before her eyes caught movement quite near her. Two girls had sat on a bench next to the creek, and were conversing tersely for a few moments before the brown-haired one threw a pair of slender sticks out into the water. The sticks themselves flared in her sight, and now that she focused on them, the girls glimmered a bit too, with slightly different colours.

One of the girls stared for a moment and then went after her little sticks, and it was but a moment before Berry knew she had been spotted. This was not normal, like the other large humans she had seen. One looked at her with genuine curiosity, and the other with what seemed cautionary optimism in her partner’s judgement. They began approaching, and she shifted uncomfortably on her perch, hands twisting together. No one had noticed her people watching before, and these two seemed awfully different compared to the other humans she had met. Though David had a similar sort of smell to him.

Whispering to Carrie, Charlie gripped her staff nervously. “That’s- she’s not, she’s not what I’m thinking right?”

“Harpy, Char. She’s got wings.” Carrie whispered back, clearing her throat she started with a hello, it was only rude to talk about someone while they were in earshot. “Good morning, little one. My name is Carrie.”

Charlene remained quiet letting Carrie take the lead, Carrie was good with animals and weird stuff. Instead she focused on studying the bird lady- harpy. Her wings were pressed up against her body, what light that was coming through the tree shined on motley brown feathers on the top. Little scraps of cloth were tied around her human bust, her hair was an utter mess. Her human torso shifted from skin to white feathers. Where ten toes should have been there were talons, similarly to the claws on her hands. If she hadn’t been in a tree, surely someone would have noticed a bird lady wandering around in the park before Charlene and Carrie arrived. Lost Haven was weird, but not that weird.

“Can you speak or understand me?” Carrie asked, sweetly. Her friend was relaxed, completely at ease. Charlie had a spot of jealousy for that.

Charlene thought to herself, Of course she would speak and know English. Sure. Make it weirder.

Berenice stared for a second. Her talons gripped slightly tighter into the tree branch, but the stranger’s voice didn’t sound agitated. Even more, Berenice herself wasn’t that surprised, even though most humans tended to put her on edge. Her golden eyes focused on the other one, though, the one carrying a stick much larger than the ones they had thrown and retrieved. She did seem nervous, but the harpy didn’t feel as apprehensive as she normally would because of that.

“Ya, I can unnerstand you, walker.” Her downy feathers fluffed slightly, as she subconsciously tried to look just a bit larger. “I have no food for you to steal, and I do not threaten younglings like the black clothed men think. I want a quiet day.”

Carrie put up her hands then took a step back, Charlie did the same and put down her staff as well. “We aren’t here to steal food. My friend and I,” Carrie gestured to Charlie. “Are curious about you, actually. Worried more than anything, truthfully. We don’t see beings like you around here.”

Charlie spoke up, clearing her throat. “Didn’t mean to bug ya, just noticed you were watching us. My name is Charlie.” Carrie nodded at her, encouraging her. “What’s your name?”

This was a question that had perturbed the harpy for her entire brief life. She knew that she had been named, though not how. “My name is Berenice.” Something clicked in the back of her head that Amy had said was important. Her voice shifted slightly, and she suddenly sounded like a twelve year old girl. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Her head cocked to one side, much like an owl, and she was obviously studying them.

Charlie’s expression became confused at that, it sounded like an imitated echo. Like it didn’t quite fit coming from a harpy. Carrie nodded, actively listening.

Why do I know these things? was a thought that plagued Berry. She knew that she had woken up with all the knowledge she had of the English language. She had no idea, however, as to the why or the how of it. She also had woken with knowing how to hunt, and otherwise fend for herself, but even so, how did she know that, and the thought struck her just now, these humans would not be a threat. How did she know these things?

She shook her head, as if getting rid of an offending mite, and stared down at the young women, unblinking. Since she was adopting the tree as her temporary home, and they had been polite, she was struck with the need for hospitality. ”Do you like fish?”

Carrie noted, “We’re going to sit down, if you don’t mind. Charlie and I have been walking all night.” She slowly crouched then put her hands on the ground as she did, not breaking eye contact with Berenice. When Carrie sat Charlie did the same, relieved to be sitting again. She let out a sigh. Her staff was beside her, even from here she felt like she could at least defend herself a little bit if need be.

“I like fish, you like fish don’t you Charlie?” Carrie asked, friendly and light.

Charlie gave her a look, then replied. “Yeah sure. Fish are cool.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Berenice. So what- uh brings you to this side of Lost Haven? Magical folk usually stick to their own little pockets, are you lost?” Charlie asked leaning back on her palms, breaking eye contact to look around for anyone who might have been paying attention. Thankfully morning joggers weren’t interested enough to stop let alone look their way. Carrie hugged her legs, still smiling.

”No, I was born here.” With that simple statement, Berenice stopped paying attention to them and her head swivelled over to the creek. She hopped along branches, moving like almost like a sparrow, with a hop-skip and flutter of wings. When she was over the water, she stooped over for a second, then swung her wings out and swooped down across the surface, talons out to snatch a pair of tiny trout from the creek. With just as sure a movements, she pivoted midair and swept past the girls, releasing her prizes as she did and dropping the now very dead fish onto their laps rather deftly.

With a flirtatious dip of her wingtips, she guided herself back to the branch she had been on, braked with a few flaps, and perched again. “This is my home. Or, at least, my home is very near this place.” As she adjusted back to face them, her head rotated again in the same manner. ”What are these magic folk you speak of?”

Charlene wasn’t so sure about being fast enough to defend herself now, instantly regretting she wasn’t on her feet. Carrie stared wide eyed at the fish in her lap, as did Charlie. Carrie looked to her friend then gave a sheepish shrug. “You said you were hungry for breakfast right?”

“You owe me.” Charlie said, with both hands she peeled back the flesh from lacerations and popped a chunk of bloody fish flesh in her mouth without flinching watching Carrie. The witch who always struggled with her resolve when they played truth or dare as kids. Carrie gingerly peeled some flesh away, picking off the scales. Procrastinating, her face was pale. “Go on, it’s not that bad.”

Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately not to gag. She chewed the piece of fish briefly then swallowed. Holding her stomach, waiting for her gag reflex to relax.

Charlie grinned at her, answering Berenice’s question. “Magical folk like you, like me and Carrie. She’s a witch and I’m an alchemist. Reason why we ask is ‘cause it’s not safe for people like us to be out and about in the open like this anymore. Hell, it wasn’t really that safe before but now...” She trailed off, picking at some scales on the trout in her lap, Berenice had mentioned something about black clothed men. Had she already run into the Hounds of Humanity? Oh no.

Carrie nodded, “Yeah, if you need help getting back home or need somewhere safe to stay for the day I have space-”

Charlie tugged on her arm, “Carrie no, you want to paint a target on your back? I’m sure there’s another way we can help Berenice, y’know assuming she even wants help.” Charlie added for Berenice.

The witch glared at Charlie, “I did not just eat a raw fish for nothing. You said so yourself, it’s not safe for anyone of us. She may be a harpy but she’s one of us. Trust me on this, Char. I got a good feeling.” She softened considerably, patting Charlie’s hand.

Berenice though about their offer, producing a gurgling sound like a relaxed but talkative crow might as she did. These ones seemed to be nice, and they were offering her protection. The David had offered the same, or at least help, before he had been swallowed by the fiery Lord of Wally’s World. But except protecting her from a very ambiguous they, no one had yet told her what these dangers might be. Out of all the adults she had met, however, these two seemed genuinely interested in her well being and not studying her. That might not be completely right, she thought, fixing her gaze on Carrie.

Charlie’s slight frown warmed a little at the noise Berenice made, despite the strange aura surrounding the harpy she was… admittedly a little cute. Carrie smiled warmly when Berenice fixed her with her gaze.

Her resolve hardened a bit. After all, she was no youngling, even if she hadn’t been here very long. “Krrrr. Why is it not safe? The open is where I belong, and my nest is far towards the setting sun, so if there are great beasts in the steel jungle, I should know.” Her feathers settled down, though, and she moved a few sideways steps along the branch, closer to them. Her neck, even as human as it was, still craned forward like a raptor’s, as if eager for answers.

Charlie offered looking up to Berenice, finding a bit more of her own resolve as she spoke, “Bad men with guns, who want to hurt magical folk. They’ve-they have killed some of us, not to spook you…” The more she spoke the weaker her argument grew with Carrie. Her friend nodded. “If we can get you back to your uh… nest? Then that…” She sighed, defeated. “Means we’re all safer. What do you say Berenice? Do you want us to help you get back to your nest?”

Carrie nodded eagerly.

The harpy made a low, shrill whistling sound through her teeth. ”It would be good to go home, but you cannot fly, and most walkers do not seem to like me,except for the younglings.” She shifted down the branch again. ”How do you move quickly on those legs?”

Carrie squeed with delight, clapping her hands. “This is going to be so fun!”

The alchemist noted, “Back to my original point, how do we get Berenice from here to where’d you say? West? The other side of the city, without a car?”

“We just need a disguise. I’ve probably got some illusion charms or something kicking around at home.” Carrie said, waving off the problem as if it was nothing to worry for. She fixed up her hair bun a little finally taking into account how strange Berenice looked as it were. “Nobody is up this early anyway, we’ll be fine.”

Charlene had some severe doubts, then shrugged picking up her staff the fluorite crystal lighting up in the morning sun. “We walk, Berenice. We’re gonna have to stop at off at Carrie’s place to find something to disguise you with. She can work some witchy woo magic and hopefully come up with something.”

“Don’t call it witchy woo.”

“It’s nicer than calling it a trick.”

“Whatever, Charlie.”

Sensing they were ready to move, Berenice launched herself out of the tree and took off into the air, ascending quickly on a thermal and getting herself even with the tops of some of the larger buildings in the area, and then circled about, watching them with her exceptional vision and keeping a steady holding pattern above them so she could follow.

These were the times Berenice loved best, when she was up in the air, tracking something. Admittedly, she was not going to dive out of the early morning mists and slam into them with her talons like she would with a rabbit or something, but the hunting alone wasn’t really a large portion of the enjoyment for her. The skill it took for her to stay steady in the air and watch the ground, keeping herself from outpacing them and avoiding the gaze of some of the few other humans in the area; that was really fun. She did a few tumbles and loops just because she could.

---

Time: 7:00 AM
Location: Carrie’s Duplex, Lost Haven.

The walk back Carrie’s place was short, Carrie had a difficult time not watching Berenice fly Charlie tugging her out of the way of other pedestrians or avoid wandering into a stoop. Charlie was curious as well, sneaking the odd look up. Berenice’s wing span was much larger than she initially thought, even past that brief show of fishing she had done by the creek. It was really something to see her fly, she wondered briefly if she could snag a feather for Harry.

Carrie walked up the set of stairs, spiraling up to her apartment. Standing on the concrete landing Carrie fiddled with her keys. The porch was surrounded by potted plants all in bloom, green and healthy. A little overhang flowerbed on the railings notably from Nathaniel Croll’s own garden, Charlie’s grandpa loved talking shop with Carrie when it came to the garden. Charlie waved up at Berenice gesturing her to come down.

“This way! We’re going inside!”

Berry spotted the signal and swept down out of the sky like a thunderbolt, braking out of her dive only to have to turn about and circle once before she found a spot on the railings empty enough to accommodate her. Her head swivelled to and fro in wonderment at the assortment of plants, and she was on the verge of asking when a scent, or rather several scents, caught her attention. Her nostrils flared three times as she sniffed. “You keep food even in the middle of the square nests here? That is impressive, but surely it is harder to hunt.”

Charlie flinched away stumbled with her back against the wall clutching her staff at the sudden descent from Berenice. “Fuck me, you’re fast.”

Carrie wasn’t fazed. “Yeah, food and shelter protected inside.” She unlocked the door and a chorus of various animal noises resounded through the door. It was a wonder how her neighbours put up with it. “Come on let’s get inside, Charlie you keep her company while I go find my charms.”

She stepped inside, saying hello to her various pets. A couple dogs padded up wagging their tails. One was her old chocolate labrador his tail like a whip against Charlie’s leg, and a younger brown wiener dog snorting happily. A cat perched by the window watching Berenice curiously. While off in a free standing perch was a raven preening by an open window. It corked responding to Carrie’s hello. A couple cockatiels were whistling with her arrival. In the living room was largely set up for the pets, while as you travelled further in she kept a medium sized aquarium in the hallway, decked out with mini fake coral reefs and caves. Carrie walked up to the tall standing wire jungle where her ferret slept and opened the door wishing her a good morning. The ferret waddled to the edge of the door looking about.

Charlie patted the chocolate lab sitting on her feet, the animals all seemed to come about and all their attention went to Berenice’s arrival more so than their favourite human.

The siren made her awkward way through the door, with the waddling steps most raptors had, and stared about her in awe at the variety of creatures in this small space. Feeling slightly vulnerable on the ground, she flapped her wings once and got onto a counter, where she could more safely observe everything. She croaked at the raven in its own language, which seemed to surprise it, and then crowed at the other birds in turn, grinning toothily as she listened to their responses. After greeting her cousins she leaned down from her perch, talons digging into wooden panelling with an audible creaking, and stared at the land-based animals. After a few moment, she straightened up.

”This is a good nest, Car-lee,” she said, still grinning. She was obviously very pleased with her surroundings. ”All these animals are healthy and happy. Should I sing for them?” She combed a hand through her wing feathers as she talked, straightening out a few mussed ones in an idle fashion. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she kept a half measure of attention on the ferret. It looked delicious, and while she would not be rude enough to eat it, she was sore tempted.

The dogs sniffed curiously at Berenice while the grey tabby cat approached warily behind the dogs. Charlie commented, correcting her. “Carrie, Berenice.” She pointed at Carrie then placed her hand flat on her chest. “I’m Charlie.”

Idly commenting as she approached the Raven, “The zoo seems to like her.” She clicked with her tongue, the raven hopped off his perch and onto Charlie’s arm climbing up to her shoulder. Charlie scratched at his head. “Hey Oscar, must be in a good mood today to come see me before Carrie.”

He gurgled a little then pushed his head against her fingers. Charlie noticed the cracks in the wood Berenice made, wincing. “I’ll fix that before Carrie notices. She has a pretty hefty security deposit on this place ‘cause of the pets.” Charlie whispered to Berenice. Carrie had disappeared into a side office, audibly moving stuff around and talking to herself.

Berenice glanced down at where her talons had made a mess. ”Oh, was it important? Sorry. I have never been inside a square nest before. Though it is much smaller than I thought it would be.” Her stomach gave a grumble, and her face twisted. ”Car-lee, what do I do? Amy said I shouldn’t go inside places like this!” There was a note of panic in her voice, and she had begun leaning and bobbing from side to side, very much like a small child who is waiting to go to the restroom.

Charlie squinted, “Go inside…?”

Her expression dropped and she looked pained upon realization. “Okay calm down, I’ll show you to the bathroom. Just hold it as long as you can.”

Oscar flapped off her shoulder as Charlie beckoned Berenice across the living room to the small bathroom. She opened the door and felt like she was asking an obvious question. “Do you… know how to use a toilet?”

Berenice shook her head miserably, looking around. Everything in here was made of smooth surfaces! What sort of creature could use such things? ”Don’t even know which one it is.”

“Okay watch me.” She said, lifting the lid on the toilet and squatted over it and said, “You sit like this on the toilet, since you’re not wearing pants you’ll only have to worry about doing your thing. Then when you’re all done you flush the waste away like this,” She pushed down the lever and the water swirled away. “Now you try.”

Charlie stepped away giving her and her wings enough room, but already the soap dispenser and toothbrush were swept off the counter. “I’ll turn around and give you some privacy alright. Oh and-” She said pointing to the toilet paper roll, “Clean yourself up after by using the toilet paper there and throw it in the toilet.”

The siren listened as attentively as she could, watching carefully. As soon as Charlie was out of the way she scrambled onto the furnishing and turned around. There was a series of horrible screeches as her claws fought for purchase or the porcelain, before she finally balanced herself out.

A few minutes later, she hobbled out, then turned around and darted back in to flush. She gave Charlie an aggravated look as she exited. ”Clean myself with paper? Is a silly thing, Car-lee. Paper falls apart when it gets wet and sticks to feathers. Hands do not belong near that place, but I had to! Toilets are disgusting!” She placated herself by hopping over to where the grey tabby was watching her and cooing at it softly.

Charlie squeezed the bridge of her nose after seeing the poor toilet. “The toilet too I guess.” She rolled up her sleeves and paced over to Berenice’s original perch crouching in front of it. “It’s Charlie, ch-ar-ley.” She enunciated slowly rubbing her hand over the wood trying to remember what sort of wood it was.

Muttering from memory what wood was largely made of, “Carbon… Oxygen, hydrogen…” Magic seeped from her hand into the cracks of the wood panelling feeling out the other trace elements, pulling the space between the panels back together it filled with a little light when her hands pulled away it was in one piece once again, the grain a little off. Standing up, “You said you wanted to sing? I thought that was only, sirens or whatever. Mermaids.”

Berenice looked up from her position, breaking the staring contest she had started with the cat. ”I can sing very well. Don’t know what a siren is. Amy told me what a mermaid was, but I didn’t know they could sing. Singing underwater would be hard.” She straightened her back, and her ribs expanded as she took a deep breath, and then started, as she always did, making it up as she went.

This time she wanted to try something new with her song, so she began with quiet, almost inaudible notes, and slowly built up in volume and intensity, adding in little trills and other notes from songbirds as she went. Out of her control, the magic began to flow out too, as slowly as the first notes, rolling invisibly over the animals and instilling tranquility on those nearest her.

Charlie noticed the animals first when she was listening focusing on sealing over the damage the toilet suffered. They all gathered in a hypnotic gaze at Berenice, she began hearing the sound a little differently changing from unrecognizable to something more pleasant. Carrie popped her head out of her office to then her eyes went wide, “Charlie! Stop her from singing!”

“What’s the matter? The animals like it.” She asked, “It ain’t that bad.”

“No you- ugh you dumb nerd, harpies have enchanting voices. They can compel those who hear their song to do what they want. I’m still finding the charms, I think Crispers hoarded them away somewhere.” Carrie said returning to the office. “Don’t get brainwashed.”

Charlie huffed and grumbled something about nonsense fairy tales. “Hey Berenice, can you stop singing, please? It sounds nice, but I…” She was losing her train of thought, “Holy shit, Carrie’s right. Cut it out, Berry. I’m feeling foggy.”

”Oh, okay.” Berenice settled back to her ‘seated’ position. Her wings drooped onto her back, clearly disappointed in not being able to sing, but she had noticed people got weird when she did so. Her head craned over to look at Charlie. ”Car-lee, what does she mean about harpies? Is that what I am?”

Charlie blinked at Berenice, she knew next to nothing about such creatures from myth but it seemed Berenice didn’t really know much about herself either. A pang of sympathy for her shot through Charlie. “Hey Carrie, where’s your grimoire encyclopedia on supernaturals?”

Carrie’s answer came, “Top shelf, beside the tv.”

Charlie nudged the stepstool out of the way able to reach no problem and pulled the large grimoire free of the bookshelf. With two hands she held the book close then she shuffled in around the pets close enough for Berenice to read over her shoulder. The wiener dog scrambled onto her lap. “I’m far from being an expert on these sort of things, alchemy deals with the real world pretty exclusively.”

Carrie snorted loudly from the other room.

“But I know a thing or two about research. Being on your own is tough, I’ve got my family and would probably be as lost as you if I didn’t have them to teach me about my magic. We all need a little help. Yeah?” Charlie said smiling up at Berenice. “Let’s look up Harpy.”

She opened the tome, flipping past pages upon pages of hand drawn pictures of various creatures of legend. Notes, pasted articles of supposed sightings, printed pages, it looked like a particularly well loved scrapbook of the strange. She stopped on a page about them, Carrie had drawn male and female faces with bird like features, a few other birds as birds and combining certain details into a human.

Berenice quorked quietly as she saw the drawings, craning her head over Charlie’s shoulder. From this close, it was obvious she had no idea what toothpaste was, and her faint odour still remained on her skin, musky and slightly smelling of death. She extended a hand out and pointed at the pictures. ”Does this mean there are more like me?”

Charlene caught a whiff of her body odor and bad breath, but got a good look at her mouth full of canines. Charlie hardly flinched away from the smell, having dived into her own fair share of dumpsters. It was raunchy but none too offensive to the scavenger. Bird ladies that could pluck fish straight out of a creek could smell however they wanted to smell. “I think so. But look here,” Noticing a main difference between the harpies drawn on the page and the one sitting over her shoulder. “This one doesn’t have a human torso like you do, her arms are her wings. Way more bird than human. According to this description, while they are strange hybrids in nature…” Charlie lifted the page to read the handwriting, “They typically do not have the gift of human speech or song. So you may look like that but according to this you’re not quite harpy.”

Carrie popped her head out, “I thought harpies could.”

“According to your own notes, that is a no.” Charlie said, then started flipping through the tome again. “So maybe my stupid guess from earlier about mermaids wasn’t too far off base?”

It landed particularly on Sirens. Charlie was surprised. “I thought Sirens were always like, fish people who could sing. Looks like they’re humans with bird features as well but can sing like you, Berry. Shit, Carrie. Your memory starting to slip?”

A singsong shut up drifted out of the office.

“Let’s see what the notes say,” She said. “So according to myth, Sirens were creatures that would lure Greek sailors off course with their enchanting voices and singing. Mainly to shipwreck them, presumably eat the sailors or steal their resources. You see here,” She pointed to the drawings, “They are similar to harpies but the important thing being is having magical vocal cords to enrapture those around you. So you’re a long way from Greek waters, there Berry.”

She laughed to herself, “Ah this is really fucked up, we went looking for a magical disturbance last night and wind up finding a siren.” She shook her head. “Strange. Where does your magic come from? Do you know?”

She swiveled to Berenice.

Berenice shook her head. “I don’t know. Until Cay-ree said it, I didn’t know I could sing people like that. I was born three and a half weeks ago.” She reached up and scratched at a mite in her hair. ”The first thing I can remember is waking up in the place where my nest is, but it was smoking and it smelled like lightning and awful things that were burnt. I can show you.” she was fidgeting now, eyes sweeping over the pictures in the book. Another sketch caught her eye, near the bottom of the page. It looked like the mermaids she had seen on another page, but it had a question mark next to it. ”What about that one? Is that a siren, too?”

Charlie blinked at her, Three fucking weeks old?

Carrie finally came out of the office holding a studded silver hair beret. “Did I hear that right? You’re only little over three weeks old? You must have been created-” Her expression fell at the realization, her expression sullen as she studied Berenice’s face. Someone created a siren, at no doubt the cost of a woman’s body used.

The witch played with the beret in her hand, frowning. “Yes, there has been a lot of confusion over which is which. If Sirens are either bird or mermaid, or both. From what I researched, it hasn’t been conclusive. I don’t exactly have a lot of resources. My coven is pretty small.”

She took a deep breath in, shaking the sadness. There was no real point to dwell, beyond hoping Berenice being the only one created in such a way. There was no way of knowing for sure, just assumptions. “Here, Berry. This is an illusion charm, if you wear it it’ll make you appear human. My grandma knew some vamps in her day, real dead lookin’ ones. This beret helped them blend in no problem, made them look like a normal human. Let’s see if it works on you.”

She offered it to Charlie who plucked it out of her hands, “I’ll put it in your hair for you.”

The siren bent her head so it would be easier for Charlie to set the beret, though the tangled mess of her hair presented an additional challenge. While Charlie was working on getting it set, Berenice looked at Carrie. ”What is a coven? Is that the cooking thing? Have I been saying that wrong?”

Carrie laughed a little, “No, it’s what we call a group of witches. My family mostly.”

With the beret finally set on her head, Berenice shifted uncomfortably. It tingled, but it wasn’t painful like she had been expecting. She looked down at her talons, still gripping the counter, though gently this time. Glancing up at the pair, she said, ”Did it work? It tickles, but I still see myfeet.”

Looking at them from a seated position on the counter was a woman in perhaps her late teens or early twenties, normal in every aspect. She was on the small side, perhaps five and a half feet tall, with slender limbs. Her face was precisely the same, though her hair, having been combed out a bit and then disguised, tumbled down almost artfully in long, lazy golden-brown curls. Bright green eyes flashed from underneath, a light smattering of freckles across the nose and cheeks adding just a touch of childlike features to a face just a touch too long. Her chin was narrow and pointed, but as the image mirrored Berenice’s features and she smiled nervously, they could see that the wide grin that came through lent an almost impish look to the woman. She could easily be an actress or a singer for some semi-famous band. The disguise, however, seemed to neglect clothes, so she was left wearing only her little modesty cover across her chest.

Carrie smiled at Berenice keeping level eye contact while Charlie casted her eyes up and away. “That’s the idea, you look normal to yourself but to everyone else you look human. No wings, you have fingers and toes. Right now, very naked let’s get you some clothes.”

Carrie beckoned for Berenice to follow her over to her bedroom, to her closet somewhat organized but bursting with colourful fashion choices. Skirts, dresses, breezy clothing brought out of storage for the summer. Charlie noted at their backs, “Pants might be a bit ambitious, try a dress or a skirt!”

Carrie held up a light blue sundress, squinting at Berenice. “Charlie! I know this sounds weird but I think I might recognize her a little. Her face is ringing a bell.”

It was Charlie’s turn to snort from outside the door, she leaned with her back up against it. “Right, like you have seen a three week old face before.”

“No, can you put your skepticism on the back burner for like, an hour? We are deciding on how to dress a siren.”

“Fine, fine. Why do you think you recognize her face?” Charlie wasn’t a fan of where this conversation was going, nervously she gripped her staff.

“She was created, Char. Nobody is born and looking like an almost adult in less than a month, that’s even a stretch by magical standards. Someone was crazy enough to take a woman and mix her up with some bird and magic.” Carrie tapped her chin, a sort of sadness coming over her again. “Local.”

Berenice was half paying attention to the conversation, half trying to figure out the complex geometrical requirements necessary to get her wings through a dress. She took the sundress, careful of her claws, and got it over her head and shoulders fine, but stopped so she could remove the tattered remains of the shirt from her bust before the dress continued its journey. She had to stop again, with the dress covering most of her front and hanging from the connection of her wings to her back, and gave Carrie a pleading look. ”I think I messed it up.”

“One sec, Berry.” Carrie helped her shimmy it back over her head and opened the shoulders for her to step into it. “Careful now, one leg at a time.” Slowly they managed past her talons and legs then up. Carrie guided Berenice’s arms through the small sleeves and slipped the dress onto her shoulders. Helping to adjust the fabric around her sleeves.

“Underwear too?” Carrie asked out loud.

Charlie answered, “Yeah, stray wind, flight. Goin’ commando is not recommended.”

Carrie nodded then went to a dresser muttering something about buying a new pack recently. “Here we go, hopefully they fit. Just bought them brand new, so it’s not so, y’know. Ick.” Handing Berenice a pair of underwear. “Careful with those too, they just cover your bottom.”

Berenice looked at the piece of clothing apprehensively. Muttering to herself about silly human modesty, she carefully fit her feet through the opening, but became swiftly more disagreeable as she pulled them up. It became a slog to put the thing on, as she had to pause almost every inch to adjust feather out of the way, and staunchly refused to try and get it near her tail. However, the disguise illusion looked fine, and it seemed like this was about as far as they were going to get with clothing, as shoes were completely out of the question.

”I do not see why I have to have this,” she whined. ”I was perfectly fine without all this cloth.” However, she seemed to at least be somewhat satisfied, as she plucked at the dress fabric and made a noise like a pigeon coo. ”Are we going to my nest now?”

Charlie came around the corner and gave her a thumbs up. “Lookin’ good. Yeah, real sorry Berry but this is how we’re going to get you from one end of town to the other without being noticed. Remember you have to walk like us too, or this whole thing is just going to be for nothing. A flying girl is just as bad.”

“Let’s go-”

“Crap!” Carrie was looking at her phone now. “I totally forgot I picked up an extra shift today!”

Charlie’s expression dropped, “What! We were out all night and you didn’t think you had a shift this morning? I can’t take her across town by myself-”” Charlie said. Watching her friend fly around her room for her uniform. “Can’t you call in sick?”

“No! I already promised I’d be there!” Carrie defended, rather weakly. “I’m sorry Char, but you can handle this. I know you can.”

Without another word in edgewise Carrie flew out of the house in record time, pushing Berenice and Charlie out the door and locking it behind her. “Text me!” Was the last thing she said before running off.

Charlie drummed her fingers against the staff in irritation. Letting out a sigh she turned to Berenice, “Guess it’s just you and me. Come on, you said you lived on the West side right? Any landmarks or anything you can remember that is around your nest?”

”Krrr. I fly across the water towards the rising sun for a little bit and play at the park. It is on a rock point outside the paved areas. There are many trees below the point. Does that help?” The siren scratched at her ear idly. ”I could maybe find it on a map? I have never used one, though.”

She walked expectantly towards the front door, trying to see how this illusion was going to work. She couldn’t help but watch her own feet, trying to catch a glimpse of the magic she could feel working, but to no avail. However, it was immediately obvious that it was working, though her awkward waddling steps caused her to appear to be walking extraordinarily slowly. She glanced back at Charlie, and the image blushed a bit. ”I do not know how long I can walk, Car-lee. I do not move on my feet very often, but if this is the way than this is the way.”

Charlie thought a bit, “Many trees? There’s a couple parks on the west end, but no rock points… unless you’re out past Carver, all it’s hiking trails for the cliffs that way.” She brought out her old smartphone, clunky and older than most generations of phones. She brought up a map frowning at the device. “It’s going to take a long ass day of walking, so no better time to get used to it than right now. Trust me, I’m an expert at it.” She laughed sending off a quick text to her mom letting her know where she’ll be.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

Yen

Yen was confused. She could sense all of the people in combat, but robots, having no ki, was going to be a problem. And to what purpose would they attack the tournament? the only thing that came to mind was that they were attacking a gathering of Nomads, since anyone with enough money to field an army of machines was not likely to be after the prize money, no matter how much it might be. Focus, Yen, she thought to herself. Priority right now is survival and saving civilians. But how do I fight what I cannot perceive? She was being hauled along by Calvin, and she could 'see' his ice powers as he used them Ah!

"If you would be so kind," she said, trying to avoid rubble and stepping where he seemed to be placing his feet, "A layer of frost on any of them might help me find them, and then I could be of some use." She reached back and removed her fan from its sling with her free hand, charging herself and it with ki as she prepared to do whatever she could to aid her companion.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Forge

Back home, Los Angeles

Zoë reclined on the couch in her apartment, waiting somewhat impatiently for her hair to finish drying. Normally she would bake it so, but with the dye, she had no idea what effect it might have. At least her head felt much lighter with how much she had taken off, leaving her with only a bob cut. Running her fingers along her scalp revealed that it was still damp, so she had so time to kill.

Everything was now in crates, save the couch and her kitchen essentials. Her complète baise in using Russian instead of French at the base, the result of her layering a cover on top of another cover and forgetting which to use, had scared her enough about her residency that she decided to move, though it would be difficult to get everything from the practise areas. Still, the 'boys' from the neighbourhood had been very kind to pack everything up for her neatly and quietly move it all to a storage unit. This was especially useful since she was fairly certain some sort of authority figure would show up to inspect the building after the quake.

Why she had been such an imbécile escaped her for now, but she would have to scrub Ms. Evgeniya Dunayevsky from existence before her very flimsy cover was blown, if it wasn't already. At least the earthquake had bought her some time, and she easily had enough money to purchase a new one. Perhaps I will stay Français this time. It would certainly be less enquiquinant et compliqué. At least I will not have to attend any more of those très ennuyeux gallery shows.

Her reverie was broken by a chiming from her work phone. She glanced at the number for the incoming text, noted it belonged to one of her more reliable brokers, and flipped it open to read it.

Tasker : Have gotten word. Job available. Fits your restrictions. Following normal protocol. Interested ?

Forge : Any details ?

Tasker : None yet. Only gave me the contact info for their email. Said they'd call you if accepted.

Forge : Alright, let them know it's okay to call.

Tasker : Will do. Expect a call in the next 24 hours.

Zoë smiled as she closed the phone and tossed it onto the couch next to her. Tasker had always been good about protecting her, and was one of the very few of the jobs people that had actually met her. He was also the one who had scouted her, back when she was robbing jewelry stores for spending cash, and brought her into the trés lucratif mercenary business. As a result, she tended to prioritise jobs coming through him more than most. And a call this soon means someone else wants to nip this mess in the bud, as well.

Feeling energetic, she hopped off of the couch and strode across to the sliding door that led to the outside. There were lookouts out there from the locals who would warn everyone if she came out, but at this point she didn't care too much. The locals were scared enough without knowing she was an actual villain, after a few failed muggings, so if they wanted to scatter she would let them. However, when the door rattled up on its poorly maintained track, her face fell. The warm breeze was not comforting in the face of Rebekkah Newman, her civilian agent for her art, standing there looking extremely irritated. Merde.

Rebekkah didn't even wait for her to invite her in, she just stormed through the doorway, violently pink hair flowing behind her like a battleflag above her denim jacket and pants that made Zoë
feel like she was in the nineties, lime green and pale pink tiger stripes. Mon Dieu, that is odieux. She desperately tried to keep her disgust from showing out of politeness as the girl whirled on her.

“So where the fuck were you? I know Russia is on a different time zone an' shit, but you've been here for months and this showing was fucking important.” Bekkah stood glaring at her, hands on hips.

Zoë almost had to choke down laughter, but managed to keep a straight face and dropped into the monotone, bored Russian accent she had been using. “Honestly, it is not like I have ever liked going to those, Rebekkah. You know I do not give two <shits> what those <jumped up, snotty, trust fund ignoramuses> think.”

“Yeah? Well, you better soon, girl. You're paintings aren't good enough to ignore potential clients when they show up. As it is I only managed to make two sales tonight, which is a fucking embarrassment in this industry.”

Zoë perked up a bit. “Oh? Which two?”

Rebekkah rolled her eyes. “So now you care. The landscape sunset, and the impressionist self portrait.”

It was Zoë's turn to roll her eyes. “Of course, you sold the two worst ones out of the whole set. Both of those are <boring pieces of excrement>.”

“I really wish you would speak English, you know? You do live in America now. Anyway, those 'worst ones' are generally what pays your rent, so I wouldn't complain too much if I were you. Are you done with the new set yet?”

“Nyet. Will be another week, at least, thanks to this last ground shake.”

“Oh God, right. Okay, well try to hurry. The boss wants fresh stuff, and he wants better numbers, or he might drop you.”

Zoë held in the snort of derision as she walked Rebekkah back out, amid a tidal wave of rapid-fire gossip. The girl may have been annoying, but she certainly knew the work. If only she realised that Zoë knew it as well, and saw through tricks like trying to intimidate her with threats of being dropped. She had seen the work of other artists in the stable, and it was good, some of it, but the Zeitgeist Art Agency would not have picked her up if they hadn't been impressed with her to begin with, 'fresh off the boat and full of hope' like so many others that showed up in this pigsty of a town.

Her mood thoroughly ruined, she closed up and flopped onto the couch, wondering how her agent hadn't noticed that everything in her home was packed. The girl was probably too égoïste to realise what it meant, she thought to herself. Sighing heavily, she sat back, slouching magnificently, and flipped through channels while awaiting a call, either from her movers, her identity forger, or this mysterious new employer.

---

---

Nicole

LHPD

Nicky looked up as the door opened, hair tumbling around her face. For the past few minutes she had managed to right the chair and sat leaned over head in her arms. They had kept her in here for days. She was pretty sure that was illegal, but she didn't really trust clocks and calendars any more, either, and only really kept track of it being day or night anymore, which was impossible in the windowless room. She was opening her mouth to start yelling again when she saw him walk through the door. Tall. Confident. Heroic. Everything she wanted to be. Well, without the costume, though it worked on him, she supposed.

He also did not look happy to be here, talking to her. Way to screw it up, Nicky. she chided her self. He spoke, asking her what she wanted. Well, that made sense, she had screamed about talking to him for, like, three hours. And now here he is, and your stupid brain is locking up. Speak, dork.

“Uhhh. Um. Well. See.” She paused, organising the chaos in her head for a moment. “I used to live in New York, until three months ago. And then the green stuff came, and now I can't sleep, or get tired, or get hurt at all. No haircuts. Nothin'. So.”

Don't fuck it up!

“I was wonderin' if maybe. Um. Y'know. You could teach me? Because I don't know what all this stuff with heroes is all about?”

Perfect.

“Oh, and if they're blaming me for that fuckin' bomb, tell them they can shove it, because I was telling Detorktive Douchenozzle the truth. I have no idea who those assclowns were, they spoke a buncha Chinese or some shit and had a super strong guy with them. Though they musta fucked it up, because the bomb went off before they even started walking away.”

---

---

Somewhere in Downtown Lost Haven

Around 20:00

Berenice was lost, alone, and confused. What had that being been, and where had David gone? She wasn't entirely certain she had liked him, but he had been the nicest of the larger humans that she had met. Still, she wasn't about to stick around to try and find him when there was some sort of monster running around in the Wally World. She had screamed at it and gotten away as fast as she could, and now she perched, miserable and alone, on the roof of a skyscraper, huddled amidst the pipes and air units with a few pigeons for company, wishing she was back in her nest with her toys. She hadn't even been able to take her bin, either!

The dawn woke her from a troubled sleep, warm sunlight glancing off of her brown plumage and swiftly making her overly warm. The sound of one of the air units failing to function properly brought her all the way awake, and she let her wings, which she had been using as a blanket of sorts, fall away and peered around. It didn't seem as though the pigeons roosted here, and there were no other creatures nearby. She stretched, wings and arms both extending in a wide arc above her, and a huge yawn left her mouth agape, showing the razor sharp teeth the light of day. She blinked lazily and waddled to the edge of the roof to look off the edge.

The sunlight was only touching the tops of the buildings so far, so she felt safely unobserved. Down below, there were still the big metal people-containers with the flashy lights. The kids had explained they helped people, so something must have happened somewhere, though she wasn't sure what. Sounds of banging and grinding drifted up from below, though, irritating her. Those sounds were not good like the little box she had had was, and the more she heard the less she liked. She rocked and leapt off the building into a dive, opened her wings, and soared away through the buildings.

She wasn't entirely certain what she was looking for, flying towards the rising sun, but that search was soon lost in her head as she marvelled, as always, at the sheer joy of flight. The wind whipping through her hair and feather, the very fine control she could get with just a twitch of muscle, the tininess of everything below and how the worries of her world just fell away. And then her stomach growled and she realised she hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday. The morning meal was the most important, according to the kids, so she veered off to a park. Her vision focused onto the trees as she swept lower, and soon she caught sight of something small and fuzzy moving around out in an open area. She dove, wind rushing past her, and at the last second braked with her wings, shot her talons forward, and snagged the unfortunate creature and slammed it into the ground. Between the impact and the talons, it was dead instantly.

After breakfast, Berenice glanced at herself. She was spattered in gore again, and the kids had managed to explain to her bathing and why being covered in blood and dirt was bad. Thankfully, she could hear a stream nearby, so she glided across the park and settled near its edge. Taking a moment to arrange her well-worn and stained shirt, she hopped into the water and began splashing about. She took the shirt off and scrubbed at it in the water with her hands, releasing a trail of redness into the stream, and once she was satisfied that it was free of blood, she tossed it over to the shore and worked on herself. Amy had said that she wasn't washing enough, so she took an extra long time scrubbing at her skin, and then her feathers. She even took the ends of her wings and ran her teeth over them, trying to get out anything sticking between them, but she wasn't entirely certain if it was effective or not.

Unbeknownst to her, because of the splashing, several things were happening around her. For one, an early morning jogger had stopped, shocked at the sight of her, snapped a picture, and then took off before Berenice could notice. There were also more seagulls and crows gathering in the area than usual, and even the trees and grass were starting to respond, growing an imperceptible bit faster. And most noticeable of all, even if it was only to a very select few people in the area, the leyline nearby was bending towards her and swelling, and distant threads of energy were reaching out to try and find her, somewhat like balls on a very slightly dipped sheet, if she was the centre of the dip.

Berenice knew about none of this. She hopped out of the stream and grabbed her shirt, but was distraught when it tore on the stick it had landed on. She glared at the stick for a moment, and then held up the shirt. It would get tangled in her wings, now, but Amy had been very firm that she must cover her chest for other people's sake. Berenice wasn't exactly certain why, but she could work with this. She tore two of the seams with her teeth, and then ripped the rest of the tear through the cloth so that it was one long strip, then carefully wrapped it around her breasts so that they were at least moderately covered. It was the best she would be able to do until she could find another shirt, and it was actually more comfortable this way.

Having successfully had herself a bath, and eaten, she was feeling rather accomplished so early in the day. She had completely forgotten why she had been upset. But staying on the ground would be dangerous, so she fluttered up to a low hanging branch and commenced with one of her favourite activities in the woods: Watching. Meanwhile, it was just past six in the morning, and she was about to be very surprised at exactly how many people lived near this park in East Lost Haven.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Black Bonnet

Character you have created: Alice Rackham

Alias: Captain Ally “Black Bonnet” Rackham

Speech Color: Not determined yet.

Character Alignment: WTL (She's not overtly evil, anyway)
Identity: Glorying in infamy!

Character Personality: Alice is, in almost every way, larger than life, and loves living to the fullest and in the moment. When she's not off raiding, she enjoys tinkering with anything and everything near by, especially at her workshop. She enjoys both modern and classical music, tending to swing between ballroom waltzes and heavy metal when the mood strikes her. She is utterly fearless, and enjoys hardship and difficult adversaries, sensing adventure in the opportunity.

Alice treats her crew like a bunch of favoured nephews and nieces, and insists that, while not infringing on their freedoms outside of shipboard duty, that they stay healthy. "Just because we're pirates doesn't mean we have to act like we're in the Seventeenth Century, you jackanapes," as she has been recorded saying. She believes fiercely in freedom, well and beyond what modern democracies espouse and hewing much closer to general anarchy, though onboard the Revenge, she maintains absolute authority, even if she doesn't exercise it unless she has to. That said, traitors and mutineers are dealt with harshly. And while she is okay with kidnapping, the slave trade is a thorn in her side, and any other modern pirates who try to take slaves in her territory risk being summarily executed. It is this "freelance privateering", added to the fact that much of her raiding is done to military and/or foreign targets, that has led to a sudden lack of resources to fight her in local governments in the Caribbean.

She, unfortunately, also suffering from bipolar disorder, and from what psychologists will say, some form of severe psychosis and delusional behaviour. While not true entirely, she is very much ungrounded from reality much of the time, as evidenced by her career alone. Thankfully, despite her isolation as a captain, necessarily separated emotionally from her crew, her 'delusions' keep her company and give her guidance. She considers herself a sort of priestess, as well as a protector, of the ocean, and will viciously punish those who abuse the sea.

Uniform/costume: Alice wears full pirate captain regalia, with a wide brimmed hat clipped up on the right side and several long black-dyed peacock feathers running off the black fabric. Her coat is bloody red, hangs down to her thighs, and she wears black pants under it, tucked into the classic knee-high fold-over boots. Her torso is crossed over by two bandoleers carrying custom-made flintlock pistols, and a wide leather belt carries two more pairs of those and her pair of cutlasses. She wears her hair in a loose cloud under her hat, though on occasion she will, in a nod to Blackbeard, braid it down and tie slow-burn fuses into it.

Origin Info/Details: Alice was born into a well-to-do middle class family in Galveston, Texas. The eldest of three children, she grew up knowing very little of her family history, until in high school she was required to read Treasure Island for a book report. She was utterly enraptured by the pirating lifestyle, and swiftly became obsessed. She researched tirelessly, and when she came across the stories of “Calico Jack” Rackham, and noticed the similar surname, she began digging into her own family history, where she made a surprising discovery.

Not only was she directly descended from Rackham and Anne Bonny's child, but several other bloodlines had tied into hers over the last several centuries. Through exhaustive digging through records that had long been buried, she found that she was also the descendant of some of the most illustrious pirates who ever lived. Evidence became solid for her family ties to Edward “Blackbeard” Teach, Bartholomew Roberts, Jean Lafitte, Captain William Kidd, James Avery, Sir Henry Morgan, “Black” Sam Bellamy, and John Taylor. The sheer unlikelihood of this union of trees seemed impossible, but she managed to confirm it multiple times through responsible sources. Her high school project for her senior history class was this entire documentation.

Just before she graduated, her parents managed to win a lottery prize at a whopping three hundred and eighty-five million dollars. Immediately after her graduation, the entire family, inspired by her findings, decided to move to a private residence just outside Nassau, in the Caribbean. This was, however, unfortunate. During a family outing that Alice herself was unable to attend due to illness, the family was kidnapped and killed. Legends about her state this, along with her fever, is was caused her to snap, and become Black Bonnet.

Alice was always a bright child, but following her inheritance, she made massive leaps forward as she feverishly studied mechanical engineering and materials science, ostensibly for college, but she soon figured out that she didn't even need to attend. She managed to actually test out of her entire Bachelor's of Applied Science, and then disappeared for quite some time. The only evidence she was still alive was a steady draining of the interests on her fortune, carefully managed by a hired advisor.

Almost three years to the day of her family's murder, her ship set sail out of Tortuga, raiding and pillaging. She only took volunteer crew, but as it turned out there were many in the Caribbean who were romanced by the idea and grandeur of her ship and by the thought of escaping poverty and the rule of law. Now, Black Bonnet Rackham sails throughout the Caribbean, sowing terror and taking plunder wherever she wishes, seemingly completely unfazed by the multiple attempts of multinational navies to try and bring her in or sink her, and basking in the adoration of those who see her career as a sort of 'reality escape', living a dream most thought long dead: the free pirate.

Hero Type: Grey Matter and (maybe) Supernatural/Mystic

Power Level: Street(on land), world(at sea)

Powers:

The Tortuga's Revenge, her pride and love: The Revenge is designed like the old ships of the line, a two hundred foot long, three masted battleship with two gun decks of twenty-five-a-side and more armaments on the main deck. The whole of it is made of teak, in classic style, though the masts, main deck, hull, and keel are all also impregnated with a special hardening compound of Alice's design that makes them impervious to all but the very largest of naval guns, and even then she takes minimal damage. The material is also lined with a magnesium-foam compounds that reduces her necessary weight by tons The sails and rigging, as well, are made of Dyneema- and asbestos-woven fabric, so as to be tough and fireproof. Other modifications are as follows:

• Swivel guns: These are small, rail mounted cannons on the rear and fore decks, capable of rotating to cover about a one hundred degree arc. Paired on the sides of each deck, for eight in total, these little bastards carry a surprising wallop, modified as they are to fire a variety of modern and older ammunition, from HEAT rounds to grapeshot, and require no powder. They can also be switched out for miniguns, as the need arises.
• Deck mortars: A set of twin mortar cannons sit on the rear deck, and are comparable to modern gun howitzers, though they can angle to almost seventy degrees when necessary. These fire 120mm shells of varying loads.
• Main Cannons: The terror of the modern high seas. Aesthetically made to look like Golden Age of Sail ship guns, these heavy guns are actually several different types of modified artillery pieces. The lowest deck has a set of rail cannons, GA Blitzers, which are capable of firing a sabot round at Mach 5. The second deck has larger versions of the deck mortars, essentially howitzers, which fire anything from HE shells up to tactical nuclear shells, though Alice would never authorise such an ammunition(it ruins the booty). The main deck guns, which are only rolled out on special occasions, are the most unique of the Revenge's arsenal. These are actually smaller than the swivels, though not by much, but they do not fire conventional ammunition. Experimental shells filled with cryo-explosives, Dragon's breath shot, ionizing rods that will generate lightning bolts, and gas rounds that can knock out a whole cruise ship in a few minutes; these are reserved for the main deck guns.
• Torpedo Tubes: Four on the bow of the ship.

Aside from the armaments, the Revenge also has other wonders, such as a hydrofoil generator/engine combo below the waterline, capable of powering the whole of the ship and pushing her max speed up to 40 knots(46mph/74kph). The engine consumes no fuel itself, an important feature to Alice. The quarters for all the crew resemble modern barracks rooms, though far more comfortable and home-y as they have decorated. The galley resembles that of a modern cruise ship, though it maintains the aesthetic for the furniture, all dark teak and cast iron. She also, of course, has modern medical facilities, and a brig capable of holding even minor metahumans. As a special touch, Alice has managed to procure a device that renders the Revenge invisible to thermal imaging, sonar, and satellite tracking, essentially a ghost ship in the modern age.

Super Inventor – Aside from the ship itself, Alice has numerous other creations to her credit.

Nanoweave Fibre: Alice's clothes, and all the ropes and sails of the Tortuga's Revenge, are made from her own custom blend of Dyneema and nano-weave carbon/asbestos fibre, rendering them almost completely immune to cuts, tears, punctures, and fire. Her entire crew is outfitted in the same. This special weave, while extremely durable, bends and folds as easily as cotton.
Mono-line Blades: Alice's cutlasses are sharp on their own, and made out of a special alloy that is nigh-unbreakable, but their true strength lies in the microedge they have, narrowing down to almost a single molecule wide, rendering them capable of cutting through almost every conceivable material. The crew carry knives of the same edging, allowing them to maintain the ship despite it's toughness.
The Pistols: While the eight pistols on her seem to be flintlocks, and even look that way when firing, this is purely aesthetic, much like the rest of her possessions. The actually contain tiny electro-magnetic catapults, and fire her pistol shot at super sonic velocities. The shot itself is similar to her basic cannon shot for the ship, rounded cones of tungsten-carbide, capable of penetrating most standard body armour with little difficulty.
Gripping Boots: The soles of her boots are enhanced to grip onto any surface through a combination of magnetism and molecular bonding hairs and pads, inspired by geckos and other climbing animals.

The Workshop: This is a sprawling, 12,000 square foot complex in a hidden cove on the island of Tortuga, the entrance to which is disguised as a blank rock through the use of a hologram projection. This dock hold all the materials for repair the Revenge, manufacturing the specialty ammunition, housing the crew, and dumping booty from raids.

Madness, or...: The legends that have already cropped up around Black Bonnet Rackham commonly say that her parents death cracked her brain so badly that she's completely mad. To be certain, her crew regularly hears and sees her talking with things that they cannot perceive. But that may not be all there is to this tale, either.
According to Alice herself, her ship and home regularly host eight spirits, whom she can name and describe fairly well. Those who have heard these names and descriptions assume she did research some time in her past, and her broken mind has conjured them to help her stay somewhat balanced. But sailors are a superstitious lot, and many have begun to believe that maybe, just maybe, she really can see gods. After all, all sorts of other strange things have happened in the world, why not this?
The 'deities' who Alice hosts are:

• Calypso, the piratical goddess of the sea (who hates her representation in un-named movies as some sort of lovesick mortal). She claims the title of 'chief' deity, and tend to treat Alice like a daughter.
• Namaka, a fierce and domineering Hawaiian lady, with water pooling at her feet.
• Takehaya Susanoo-no-Mikoto, a Japanese man who occasionally shows up with his wife, and always during storms.
• Sedna, a large Inuit woman missing her fingers.
• Ægir and Rán, a huge giant and his mermaid goddess wife, who always appear together and love showing up to parties.
• Samudra, an Indian woman who is temperamental, but typically calm when boarding with Alice.
• Agwé, a black man who is always grinning at her, and refers to himself as her King, unless the Calypso is around.
• Chalciuhtlicue, a gorgeous Aztec woman who is always holding a babe on each hip, one boy and one girl.

Alice refers to these spirits as her friends, often in familiar terms, and sometimes even rudely. She especially likes cursing at them during storms, though she reports that this really only makes them laugh. Even those people who claim to be able to see or otherwise interact with spirits and other supernatural beings deny seeing them near her, though she replies to these denunciations by proclaiming them “not worth the Sea's time”. It remains to be seen whether she is mad or some sort of priestess.

Skills: (Because these really don't count as powers

Navigation, Captaincy, and Seamanship: Alice seems to have an inborn knack for all things relating to piloting a ship. She can read the waves and avoid even the worst swells, can smell a storm before it's even visible on the horizon, can plot courses that shave hours off her travel time, knows every single inch of her ship from bow to stern, and can even read her crew's mood before they know it themselves. She is a commanding presence wherever she goes

Linguistics: Alice can fluently speak Haitian French, Creole, Spanish, and English

Combat: Alice has taught herself, through instructional videos, practise, and sparring, all forms of pirate combat; Cutlass and pistol, knife, boarding pike, artillery combat, naval tactics, acrobatics, nad most modern naval small arms combat.

Engineering: Alice has a dual BAS in Mechanical Engineering and Physics, with all the skills that entails, though her genius adds considerably to this.

Attributes:

Height: 6'1”
Weight: 180 lbs
Strength Level: Above average, but not by much
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: John Woo film hero level(about twice normal human)
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 3 hours, because she's used to the hardships of the sea.
Agility: Above Average, but still human
Intelligence: Very genius
Fighting Skill: Experienced/Trained

Resources: Extreme; aside from her inherited fortune (most of which was dumped into the ship), she has her financial advisor managing stocks, bonds, and several Cayman and Swiss bank accounts. These are cunningly manipulated so that international authorities can't freeze them. And there's plunder, as well.

Weaknesses: Aside from her armoured clothing, she is a normal human being, and can be killed or wounded as easily as any other.

She is, even if not quite as mad as some fear, extremely delusional, and any attempt to bring her back to modern sensibilities is doomed to failure.

Following with her delusions, Alice has a flashpan temper when it comes to her ship, or her crew, and is fiercely protective of both.

She has a severe peanut allergy.

Pirate Information:

Insignia: Alice's flag is black, with white crossed cutlasses. A white skull looks to the side in profile, at a speared heart dripping blood into a cup.

Code: Alice's Code is as follows:

• I: The Captain shall receive three shares of any retrieved value. The Quartermaster and Doctor shall each receive two shares. The Cook shall receive one and one half share. All regular crew shall receive one share. Provisional Crew shall receive one half share.
• II: No crew member shall engage in any form of slavery. If a crew member of any rank should so engage, The Captain shall deem a fitting punishment.
• III: Any crew member, having been assured the availability of willing mates, who is found to have engaged in rape, shall be keelhauled.
• IV: Any crew member who is found to have aided in the capture or death of any of their Brethren, shall be tied to the mast and left to the depredations of those Brethren who remain.
• V: All complaints, no matter how small, will be listened to. Those crew members who cannot find a satisfactory solution to their complaint shall be put ashore at the nearest safe port and sworn to secrecy on pain of death.
• VI: No crew member shall engage in any activity which may divide the crew. Friendly boxing and gambling is allowed, but all complaints against the results must be settled fairly by an Officer.
• VII: Those who deem fit to poison the ocean with things other than what belong in it shall be given to the next storm.

Supporting Characters (Does your character have a significant other? A mother? Friend? Who are they, what do they have to do with your character?):
While her family may be dead, there are multitudes of people who interact with Alice on a daily basis, even aside from her Gods.

NPCs

• Liam Evans, her accountant, who works out of Grand Cayman and calls her whenever he needs a decision about her accounts made.
• Mister Ribbons, a flamboyant man who serves as her quartermaster on the Revenge
• James Kirk MD, who regrets his name but doesn't wish to change it. The Revenge's Doctor.
• Dominique Briggs, the overbearing ship's cook
• Admiral Brian Haliway, the Naval officer of Her Majesty's Navy who heads the task force attempting to rid the Caribbean of Black Bonnet Rackham
• The Kraken, that mysterious creature of legend, who some have reported as following the Revenge, though to what purpose remains unclear.

Do you know how to post pictures on RPG boards?:

Other: I will make NPC sheets for the spirits when and if the story makes it seem necessary.

This character is now an NPC and is available to interact with.

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed)

Little Tokyo, Lost Haven

The police cruiser stopped a few dozen yards from Nicole, at the edge of the rubble that had been strewn over the street. The spotlight on the side had focused on the remains of the restaurant, but she was still washed over by the flashing blue and red from the light bar on the top. As the two officers of the peace exited the vehicle, guns drawn, another cruiser pulled up next to the first, and the angle it stopped at left her illuminated by the headlights. She briefly considered playing possum, but that had the chance of getting her in more trouble, so she opted instead for relaxing as much as she could in her little cage and waiting for someone to notice her. She kind of wished she cut bleed, enough to at least make her look injured.

As more first responders began showing up, combing through the wreckage, they found the dead Chinese guy first, and there was a whole lot of activity suddenly. An interminably long time later (perhaps two minutes), one of the EMTs arriving on scene caught sight of her. The woman rushed over with a shout, and Nicole was now the centre of attention. The lady knelt down next to her head, staring at the bars for a second, though Nicky couldn't tell if she was analysing the situation for injuries or she was simply dumbfounded by the girl's situation. Either way, it passed quickly, and she turned to Nicky herself.

“Miss, can you hear me?” There was a bit of worry in the woman's voice, she thought, though it was mostly stoic professionalism. Might appreciate that more if I was actually in dire need.

“Yeah, yeah, I can hear you fine.” That got a facial response. She looked surprised.

“Miss, are you hurt? I can't see any blood. I'm going to check for a concussion, okay?”

“Whatever. I'm fine, just get me out of here.”

The woman looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. A flashlight was shone into Nicky's eyes, which she had to fight the urge to roll. As the light was pulled away, she saw a firefighter coming up with some sort of saw. “Oh, dude! Kick ass! Cut me out of this thing!”

Seven minutes later, two firefighters pulled the last bar away from her waist and she was free. They gripped her carefully to pull her up, but she shrugged them off and stood up herself. The medic, whose name she had learned was Tina as the lady had talked with her throughout the cutting process (or at least tried to. That thing was loud), had ceased looking surprised a few minutes ago. Now, what looked to be a detective was walking over, and Nicky was struck by how absolutely clichéd the man looked. Long brown overcoat, fluttering in the breeze of these wee hours. Fedora. Pencil and pad held out as he talked to her. But this conversation was definitely not going to go the way he wanted.

“Okay, miss, can I get your name?” He looked at her as his pen touched the paper.

“Nope.” She crossed her arms.

“I'm sorry?”

Nicky snorted. “Yeah, probably. Look,” she gestured at the ruined building. “I was on the roof. There were some assholes speaking some crazy Asian language who came out of the building and then it blew up. End of statement.”

The detective stared hard at her. It made her itch. “You were on the roof.”

“Yup.”

“Can I ask what you were doing up there?”

Nicky sighed. “Scavenging for pigeon nests. What do you think?”

The man's voice went cold as he responded. “Miss, I think you had best drop the attitude and answer my questions truthfully.”

She glared at him. Her only temporary ally Tina had already walked away to the ambulance. Alone again. “Look, man, I was trying to find a place to camp out the night, okay? I seriously do not know who those guys were.”

“Camping out? Are you homeless?”

Ohhhhhh shit. “Uhhh. No? I like exploring and I was out too late to make it home before morning.” Nicole rubbed the back of her head and tried to meet the detective's eyes. She failed. And it was obvious from the way the man was scribbling away in his stupid notebook that he hadn't bought it.

“Hmmm. Look, Miss, what's your name?” The man was almost scowling now.

Nicky decided on brazen-ness and mock sighed, “Elizabeth Maxwell.”

Did his eyes just narrow? “Alright, Miss Maxwell, until we can understand exactly what has transpired here tonight, I am afraid I am going to have to place you under arrest under suspicion of committing this act of terrorism.”

“WHAT!?”

---

She stared out at the rubble strewn street from the back seat of the patrol car as the emergency crews kept at their work. It'd been nearly an hour since the bomb had gone off, and now Nicole's entire plan had been completely thrown into shambles. She had been so careful about avoiding police and anyone else who might take her in and try to 'fix' her life. What no one was likely to understand was that her old life was over. Everyone was dead, and now she would never join them, so she was left to try and stop evil like that from ever happening again, no matter the cost.

The earthquake, when it came, was so sudden that she had little time to even understand what was happening. One minute, she was idly twisting her wrists in the handcuffs, trying to figure out if she could pry them open or not, wondering at how uncomfortable the damn things were. The next minute the whole cruiser was shaking like a bouncy castle, and there was a horrible grinding noise coming from everywhere. For a second, she thought she was being buried in rubble again, back to the Worst Day, and a scream bubbled forth unbidden from her throat.

It took her several minutes to realise that someone was shouting over her own continuing scream before she managed to stop. She had, in her terror, curled up on the back seat of the cruiser, hard plastic thing that it was, into the tightest ball she possibly could, arms still locked behind her by the cuffs. The words spoken to her started to finally filter through, and she recognised Tina the EMT's voice through the haze. “Hey! You're okay! It's over now! HEY!”

“Buhhh.” Nicky looked up. Concern was clearly all over the medic's face. “'m okay. Not hurt.”

Relief was evident. “Good. We're going to be really busy now, but I've told the detective to go ahead and take you, okay? I put in my recommendation that you still need to get some x-rays, but he said you were fine and they'd do it later.” The lady reached into a pocket, pulling out a card and pen, scribbling something on it, and then put in in Nicky's front pocket on her vest. “If they refuse any sort of medical treatment, or you just need a friend, call me, okay? I don't know where your family is, but you've obviously been through something awful. If I can't come myself, I'll find someone else who can help.”

What the hell? “Sure. Whatever.” Nicky sat up, stoic and stony-faced, and stared off through the front windscreen. Tina stared at her for a moment, sighed, and closed the door. Almost immediately after, the detective climbed into the car, and they were off in antagonistic silence.

LHPD Central Station

21:12

I hate my life, Nicky thought to herself as she sat on the rough metal bench of the holding cell, back against the cold concrete bricks of the rear wall. She stared out through the bars into the nerve centre of the Lost Haven police department, currently in a panic as they tried to coordinate recovery efforts across the entire city. Apparently that hadn't just been a localised earthquake like she had thought. Uniforms were racing back and forth, and dispatchers were literally sweating. It looked like the entire force was here, though they must have had other precincts. She idly wondered exactly what had happened, since even the walls here showed a few signs of damage, and the power flickered intermittently.

She was brought out of her own mind by a rough shove on her shoulder and a growling voice that she hadn't heard, but had apparently been talking to her for a while. “Hey, you listening, bitch? I said that's my spot!”

The holding cell was full of troublemakers, but this one, specifically, had eyed her from the moment she had been unceremoniously pushed through the cell door. The woman was huge, covered in tattoos and more than a bit homely. Scars on her face said she was probably a fighter, maybe a boxer. And she had apparently taken exception to Nicky's presence. Two smaller women who looked, if anything, nastier than their boss stood behind her. The rest of the cell's population, perhaps a dozen or so, looked on with something like hunger, waiting for the beating to commence. Nicky sighed.

“I sat here. Obviously, it's my spot.” She crossed her arms, staring up at the frankly mountainous woman. She might've been intimidated before she was cursed, but now it was almost funny.

“What'd you say, bitch?” Nicky saw her fist bunch up. Not a talker, then. She let herself fall as the swing came, letting the woman's fist slam into the wall instead of her face. Rotating on her hip, she lashed out with both feet as hard as she could and caught the woman in the thighs, shoving her back into her cohorts. One of whom pulled a knife from some hidden spot and rushed at her. Nicky was tempted to grab it, but decided to concentrate on the big one. She sat back up, gathered her feet under her, and launched herself at the fighter as she recovered her balance. She vaguely felt the pressure of the knife as it bit into her side, but she knew it didn't do anything and ignored it.

Within seconds she had ridden the woman back to the ground, knees on her chest, and was attempting, with gusto, to beat the back of her head through the concrete floor. She could hear cheers from the onlookers and shouts from the officers outside, but it all fell away as she lost herself, once again, in the fight. Several points of pressure impact hit her back, probably the knife again, but all of her focus was on taking down this bitch that had tried to punch her.

It took three officers to haul her off the woman as they poured into the cell. She grinned in grim satisfaction as she noted that her other two opponents were on the ground twitching, and the big one wasn't moving much except to try and cover her head from an opponent no longer attacking her. But her view was quickly cut off as she was dragged out of the holding area and brought into an interrogation room. The officers chained her new set of cuffs they placed on her to the table, and backed out warily, muttering to themselves. It took Nicole a minute to figure out why.

Several wires were dangling from her clothes, like some sort of weird silly string. Tasers she thought. That's why those other two were twitching. Ha! Those don't work on me either, huh? Now she knew why the officers had been worried about her. She glared at the one-way window, more angry than before. “They started it!” she shouted, hauling at the cuffs uselessly. She might be tough, but she wasn't all that strong. “I was just defending myself!” There was no response.

SHIT. Now they know I'm a meta, too. Sonofabitch. Think, Nicole! What the hell should you do? She rolled her eyes at herself. Break out and run for it, obviously. Duh. They were probably contacting some sort of containment unit for freaks like her. Oh shit, what if they think I'm a fuckin' villain!? She needed to handle this now. And there was only one name she knew off the top of her head.

"Hey, HEY! SHITHEADS! I know you can hear me, motherfuckers! Get me Icon! I'm only gonna talk to a hero! You shits don't know your assholes from your fucking elbows!" She thrashed violently, managing only to tip over the chair she had been sat at, leaving her dangling from the cuffs and sprawled along the floor. The fighting spirit hadn't left her yet, and she was seeing red, now. How had life gotten this unfair? "ICON! I WANNA TALK TO THAT FUCKER!"

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

“Ah.” Yen nodded sagely. “These 'walruses' must be mighty, indeed, to allow you to develop to the point where you are competing in tournaments. I would be glad to get in some practise with a fellow-” She stopped, suddenly, at the sound of nearby explosions, and the screams from the crowd. She could hear the sounds of gunfire, as well, but she could sense nothing. “Listen, something is happening.”

She reached out gently and placed a hand on Calvin's shoulder, while turning her head about to try and triangulate the sounds. Some of them sounded quite close, and there were a lot of people in trouble. Several ki-users in the arenas had also suddenly switched targets. “I need you to tell me what is happening, and guide me to the opponents. They have masked their ki somehow and I cannot sense them at all.” A smile spread across her face, trying to reassure herself and him. “Instead of practise sparring, we will fight as a team, yes?”