McHaggis Member

I have 4-ish planned! 3 females and 1 guy, though I can switch 'em about a bit to have more male characters if you want.

\o - Checking in!

Interested.

**Seth and Belle – Ayero – Ladyl Woods** Seth was blasted against the wall of the cave at the gust of wind created by the Skarmory's massive wingspan, the 'feathers' themselves whizzing around, as sharp as any half-decent knife. There was a reason why blacksmiths prized the plates of the bird-Pokemon as a material for crafting both armour and weapon. He couldn't let that happen, even if the creature was stealing children to eat – every beast had its reasons. The moral dilemma would have to wait, however, because first he had to take it out. The razor feathers that the bird produced were harder to dodge than they looked, more accurate and deadly than throwing knives would be; however, Seth ensured that his mask was covering his eyes during the assault – who'd ever heard of a blind archer? – and stayed as still as possible. One embedded itself in his arm joining an impressive collection of other scars, some coincidentally from the very same attack in years gone by. As the Luxray charged in with unusual determination to save *human* children that set him on edge, Seth drew and readied another arrow. They weren't the most useful weapon against a Skarmory, no doubt about that, but there would be weak-spots somewhere. And if there weren't, he would just have to make one. The Skarmory reeled back, wings and legs spasming unpredictably as the electric current passed through it's body, and before the blood-haze of battle set in he was able to realise that *this was not typical behaviour of this Pokemon*. “Something's not right with this Pokemon. It's not... in it's right mind!” The Skarmory's wings were dented and bashed, moreso than any other he'd seen. Seth could only presume that its natural cycle was disrupted, that it wasn't able to regenerate it's steel feathers to a healthy condition. That would be where the weak point is, then, he reckoned, sending the arrow flying at where he guessed the joint would be. With a crack, it embedded itself into the creature's body, causing it's eyes to roll back blankly in pain. The metal plates around one of its eyes had been dented already by another's arrows, no doubt limiting its sight if not making it impossible to see clearly. Uh-oh. That was *not* good. Those razor sharp wings, even pinned by arrows and dents, began to slowly pull the body of the creature above the ground. While not able to fly properly, the Skarmory's frantic, panicked movements – combined with its natural power and speed as it beat its wings – was causing the dirt and dust around the cave to rise up into the air, whipping around the small clearing in a circular motion. “Belle!” Seth shouted, the winds rising in ferocity to the point where his cloak nearly tore off from around his neck and he had to keep his head down to keep his eyes intact. With a sharp cry, the bulky Pidgeot rammed into the Skarmory, though to little success, moving between it and the Luxray in the centre of the growing storm. Seth was glad his companion had understood his urgency. He didn't want what he suspected to be a Morph getting hurt and, after what happened to Featherheart Tower, he assumed Belle felt the same.

**Jamie Drummond – Roof of one of the dorm buildings** James ruffled a hand through auburn hair, displacing gel and hairspray and spiking it up in a look that was truly untidy. He didn't want to go to the lake, no siree, because not only was there probably numerous unseen, unnoticed bodies in it other than the Schwartz girl's (and wasn't that a scary thought, because the Drummonds were well-known acquaintances of the family?) but also due to the fact that the lake was absolutely ages away. Ash seemed to have been immune to the sheer effort it had taken to pull himself out of bed whenever he had a free period and climb up to the roof. His near catatonic state, 'sleepy' if he was less dramatic, made the concept of heading down there with the hot sun beating down on his back all the more unappealing. “It's a pure trek, though,” was all he said, more of a whine as he pulled himself to his feet with the help of the railing. Still, what Ash wanted, Ash got – and he was sure his father would say something silly or dismissive about that, something like, '*Think you're a ladies' man, Jamie? More like whipped if you keep lettin' the gals boss you around.*' Sweat already clung to the back of his neck and the collar of his untucked shirt from the heat, and it was only going to get worse. At least he was more likely to get there first if he ran, James supposed, and it was good practice – more fun than running around a track as he did for the school's team. There was no danger, no element of chance to something as mundane as that, and he could never enjoy it as much as a competitive race. He was even looking forward to a change of scenery from the roof, no matter how much he protested. That was how he lived life, he knew; complain about it, then do it. Almost like a family motto. “And you know full well that the 'and back' part's a lie, Mareinos,” James continued, looking around for his blazer only to realise that, no, he hadn't brought it with him. Duh. He so wasn't taking the library book he had brought with him – not that he had followed through with his good intentions of reading it – and the librarian would probably just have to... wonder why the text was missing. It wasn't exactly school related, either. Just a non-fiction text entitled, '*Mysteries Dragged Ashore*' about beached bodies and crime scene investigations. If he wanted to become a policeman, or rather, a detective (since Ivy League really wasn't for him) then he'd have to deal with deaths like Helen Schwartz on a daily basis. “Let's go, then.” And he didn't think of the dead girl long enough to let it chill him to the bone. --- **Luca Seacliffe – Near the Lake** Luca peered into the small pond on the edge of the grounds, close enough to the lake so that the water rolled down hill when it rained but far enough to be a separate body entirely. When she inspected the reeds, pulling them apart and staining her hands with muck, she could see the undeniable glistening of frogspawn. Gross. She poked it, then wiped her hand on the front of her skirt, which was twisted awkwardly as such pieces of clothing were meant to be worn 'delicately' and 'carefully' rather than allowed to ride halfway up her thighs so she could climb a tree. The bottom of her tie had dipped into the mucky water at some point, but Luca was sure she had a spare in her room if she looked – it wasn't a big deal. She didn't *mean* to give the cleaners and service people more work, not at all. Perhaps she should write an apology note? The thought was quickly forgotten. The older students in her dorms had been telling ghost stories, most notably to do with the girl named Helen Schwartz, and the murky water made her wonder how many other children had been killed and their corpses dumped. Morbid, she knew, but necessary to think about, because Luca *really* didn't want to die like the girl supposedly had. Runes carved into her skin... Just thinking about it made her nose wrinkle.

What Morven was doing wasn't *stalking*, exactly. Silently she padded through the streets of the concrete jungle that was New York, worn flat shoes barely touching the ground as she nonchalantly cast her gaze around the urban landscape, not focusing on anything in particular. Every so often, she would cast a wary glance at a small dot a few blocks ahead of her, as if expecting it to take an unexpected turn or pop up behind her without a moment's notice. Hair pulled up into an intricate braid, revealing delicate markings in sludgy, forest-green paint, Morven certainly didn't look normal; however, most people only glanced once or twice, a slight smile on their face that read, “*this is what kids are into these days?*” At least, that was until she broke out into a run (or a mild saunter, for a vampire's natural speed), and the few people that were out at such a late hour audibly scoffed. “Ches! Ches!” Morven called out in a slightly irritated hiss, jogging up to the blindfolded vampire and crossing her arms. “You need to be more cautious when it comes to your surroundings. You're in Blackmoore territory while there's a bit of a – an issue.” At least, the deafening sound from only a short time ago that sounded like it came from a vampire seemed to suggest as much. She hadn't been so deaf and disoriented since the last metal concert she had attended out of curiosity. Her nose wrinkled for a moment. “And if you're not careful, that lovely hair of yours' will turn to dreadlocks.” --- Alistair thumbed the hilt of his sword absently, resting his back against the bar. Twelve rogues were not a big deal, but in the bigger picture... “There's been a lot of new blood recently,” he mused aloud. “The homeless around the city are going missing, according to Morven, and stocks from blood banks are dwindling. If I didn't know any better, I'd say those are sure-fire signs of a new upstart family. Perhaps this group fell through the cracks?” The leader of Clan Blackmoore grinned wolfishly, tangling a hand in blonde hair in an attempt to resist the urge to let loose a manic cackle. He loved his life sometimes, but it was often *so boring*. A new player in town – even if it was made of loose rogues and fragile coalitions – would sate his desire for excitement, at least for a time. A war on two fronts, if the Kingston situation escalated. “Adrian! Lead us to them, if you'd please. I need a drink, and I want it to be vampiric.” Most said that drinking another vampire's blood was pointless – and, well, they were right. It had no nutritional value whatsoever, it was the consistency of tar and it was marked by an acidic flavour worse than vinegar, but everyone had to have their quirks. Alistair's just so happened to be intricately related to a thirst for power. He preferred to fight and struggle with what he drank from.

NAME: Jenna James Bartlett AGE: 17 SIGN: Aquarius APPEARANCE: (WIP) LOCATION OF SYMBOL: Foot – Left Heel ABILITY: Water and ice manipulation. BIO: Jenna James (sometimes known as “JJ”) was born in a dilapidated inner city area with few amenities for young children – the only entertainment she and her siblings could find was always wandering the streets and causing trouble, admiring the gang culture that older kids took part in. While not all too interested in taking part in the violence herself, she was often the one to stir up a fight through gossip and spreading rumours in order to watch the ensuing fight; however, all that changed when her oldest, estranged brother was reportedly murdered in connection with drug-related crimes. With absentee parents, it was up to JJ – the second oldest child – to provide for her younger siblings; however, she could only do that through obviously illegal means as her part-time, off-the-books job as a waitress couldn't support them. Jenna James joined a bad, if lucrative crowd, but as she became more and more settled in her new way of life, word eventually got around to the authorities that she was keeping folk silent about her criminal life through the use of her abnormal ability; controlling water. It didn't take long until she was forcibly taken to the Zodiac Program.

Alistair/Beatrix 5eva OTP (Beatrix/Everyone though.)

Collab: McHaggis/Kirah/TheMaster99 **2nd of December, 1999 - Luchino Cafe, Tottenham Court Road** Almost immediately after the man spoke to them, Eric entered the cafe, followed by everyone else who was coming inside – the rest were performing overwatch. Kyle and Siobhan had just turned around to face Luther. If he had any plans to attack them, he probably would have done it while their backs were turned. Promising start. Siobhan glanced warily at the man and, in true Gryffindor fashion, stepped out in front of Kyle, protectively. Kyle didn’t look too pleased about that, but he was ready to protect Siobhan if he had to. Everyone looked at each other, and after a few seconds, Eric broke the silence. “Hello,” he addressed Luther. Luther turned, having been looking at the others. _He looks surprisingly friendly, considering he has no idea who I am,_ Luther thought. “Hello,” he replied. If it were even possible, Siobhan’s eyebrow climbed higher on her forehead in an expression of, ‘*really, is this how they handle diplomacy in the Ministry?*’ Inevitably, she asked with characteristic bluntness – only barely remembering to use something resembling a secret code – “Are you our inside man?” Luther looked back to her. “Well, if you are that which comes after the phoenix, then yes I am.” It might seem silly, but although he was certain he hadn’t been followed, you can never be _too_ sure. “Yes, that’s us,” Siobhan said quickly, barely covering a half-snort. “Can we stop speaking in tongues now, though? It’s _seriously_ lame.” Luther paused for a moment, before replying. “I’d have thought you would appreciate what little secrecy we can manage. However, if that’s how you want it, then that is fine. So, shall we get down to business?” He walked behind the counter and poured himself a cup of tea. He’d have flown it over to him, but he certainly didn’t expect that his company would trust him with a wand at this stage. “I’ll take good old honesty and integrity over illusions and half-truths any day of the week,” Siobhan grumbled, leaning against the silvery glass cabinet housing a host of dull, disinteresting cakes and other assorted desserts. “I’m Siobhan MacFusty. Undesirable Number #13.” Luther looked up from his tea. He nodded, having memorized the Undesirable list ages ago. “I’m Luther. Luther Cunningham.” He picked up his tea and sat in a booth, looking up at the group in an invitation to sit. Siobhan peered over at Kyle for a moment, as if waiting for his approval. She didn’t trust herself to assess the dangers of the situation herself and, despite her initial distrust for the turncoat in front of her, there were no alarm bells ringing in her head warning her of an impending *avada kedavra* or anything of the sort. Kyle clearly didn’t trust the man. If he turned coat once, no reason he wouldn’t do it twice, but if he had something, anything that could be helpful at this point Kyle would take it. He frowned, but that wasn’t too unusual. A slight nod to Siobhan suggested that, at least for now, he’d take this man at face value. Eric, having stayed out of the conversation since starting it, made the first move and sat down across from Luther. _If he was going to attack us he would have done it already,_ Eric concluded. “So, I guess something kind of obvious should get cleared up. What is your rank in the Death Eaters? If you’re a nobody in Voldemort’s eyes then we have no use for you, you’ll understand.” Siobhan quietly took a seat, folding her hands in her lap and straightening her posture. “Not *no* use,” she clarified, allowing a brief half-smile at Eric. “But as a spy in such a case? Not so much.” Luther nodded. “Understandable.” He paused a moment, before continuing. “I’m near the top. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and the like? I’m one of them.” Another pause. “Well, probably a _bit_ lower than them now,” he amended, looking distracted for a moment. “But for your purposes, more than good enough I suspect.” “We’re too exposed here. We need to move.” Kyle said, his eyes focused on the windows. “Agreed.” Siobhan brushed her hair out of her eyes, before continuing. “No offense, mate, but you do look like a Death Eater. Not really the sort to go gallivanting around with known enemies of the Dark Lord.” Luther nodded. He glanced at the window for a moment, and to his horror he saw a dark figure approaching the door. A Muggle would have already turned around. This person was the _last_ person he wanted to see here. A Death Eater. “Christ,” Luther muttered. “We have a visitor, I’m afraid. What the hell is he doing here?” Luther looked at each of the Ashes in turn, hoping that the dismay in his eyes could save him. Discreetly, Siobhan drew her wand under the table. “Kyle,” she said, tilting her head at the door. “I’ll keep watch on our possible-ally or possible-enemy here. I’m not half bad at a body-bind.” The last part was meant to be threatening to Luther, even though she had a hunch that it really wasn’t his fault. Kyle gave a small nod to Siobhan and let his wand drop out of his sleeve. He moved to the door. The Death Eater realized what was happening inside, and quickly drew his wand. _Curse my luck,_ he thought. _I just wanted some tea before heading home, and now this! There’s three of those filthy Ashes, and I’m just one man!_ He backed himself to the wall, realizing at the same time something that might just save his life. _Was that Luther I saw?_ he thought, optimistically. _What on Earth is he doing in there?_ He pointed his wand at the window, which immediately fell apart into fragments. Kyle’s wand hand shot up and under his breath he murmured _Sectusempra_ at the Death Eater. It was one of the ones Kyle was good at, from entirely too much time trying to perfect it. The spell grazed by the Death Eater, who was suddenly glad that he had hid himself just out of view from the window. He turned, pointing his wand at his attacker. “_Sectusempra,_” he murmured, returning the favor. Siobhan instinctively whipped around and scrambled to her feet in one fluid movement, pulling her wand away from where it was trained on Luther to cast a _Protego_ that separated her, Eric and the Death Eater turncoat from the action. Shield charms erupted from all around the group, presumably David and Albert's work, and the chaos of both sides of the battlefield ensured that the Death Eater couldn't Disapparate without fatally splinching himself. Upon realising that she had forgotten about Luther for a split-second – one too long if he had been a real enemy – she scowled, backing up so as to keep him in her peripheral vision. It wasn’t even a thought and Kyle had his own Protego up protecting him from the curse. Too many trick and traps from Maggie had his reflexes for that spell mastered beyond many. He hadn’t even need raise his wand for it. Kyle cast another spell, this time with a bit more thought. If the Death Eater was hurt, or didn’t return to base that’d be suspicious, which of course is why Eric was with the group. _Expeliarmus_ Kyle cast silently. The Death Eater nearly laughed as he deflected the spell with his wand. _Expeliarmus! Are those fools training a bunch of cowards?_ he thought. Coward or not however, he wasn’t going to be able to make any progress alone. Then he remembered that he saw – or, at least he _thought_ he saw – Luther in the cafe. _I have no idea why he’s in there,_ he thought, _but if there’s one thing that is certain about him, it’s that he is loyal. He’ll help me, surely!_ Hiding back behind the wall, he yelled into the cafe, “Luther! Why are you just sitting there? Do something!” Luther looked up with a grave expression on his face. He exchanged a glance with Siobhan, then looked back at the window. He said nothing, but he knew what he had to do. A moment passed. Then another one. _Why isn’t he doing anything?_ the Death Eater wondered. _Fine then, I’ll just do it myself._ He steeled himself for what he was about to do, then popped out around the corner, the incantation already on his lips. “_AVADA–_” But the spell was never to be cast, for Luther had drawn his wand the moment the Death Eater was visible. “_Stupefy!_” he shouted. The Death Eater looked into his eyes as he fell over, the hatred practically radiating from his eyes. Kyle irritated that this whole fight could quite easily be a set up cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on the turn coat. “We need to move now.” He hissed out at Siobhan and Eric as Luther dropped like a rock. Eric nodded, surprised by what he had just witnessed. “Should I Obliviate him?” Eric asked, addressing nobody in particular. Siobhan shook her head minutely. Eric nodded again, and then turned his attention to the shattered window, which reassembled itself with a wave of his wand. After the window was back in place, he sheathed his wand and walked back inside the cafe. “We’re ready to go, I reckon,” he said, addressing Kyle. Siobhan frowned pensively, her brows furrowing in obvious confusion. “This Luther Cunningham seemed alright to me,” she noted, reaching down to drag Luther’s still body up and drape his left arm over her shoulder. Just for good measure, she poked him in the stomach to make sure he truly was unresponsive. The last thing she wanted was to splinch herself because he’d somehow avoided paralysis and separated himself from her mid-Apparition… There were some nasty cases of that in St. Mungos. “Can one of you get that other Death Eater? He looks like a newbie, but Ronan might want to speak with him. Before the _Obliviate_.” The mediwitch shuddered. She wasn’t one for the rough techniques the Ashes’ sort-of leader preferred to use. “If anyone was caught in the glass, see me once we’re at the safehouse.” With that, she smiled slightly at Eric and grinned at Kyle before disappearing with a slightly heavy crack. Just as he was getting ready to Apparate, Eric remembered something. “Oh, we should probably go get Albert, aye?” He walked out the cafe, and scoured the rooftops for Albert and David. After a few seconds of scanning he found them. He cast a Patronus – his was a monkey – and sent it to them. The monkey climbed it’s way up the building with impossible speed, and poked Albert in the shoulder obnoxiously – or pretended to, since it couldn’t _actually_ touch him – then pointed at Eric, who gave him a courteous wave, then disappeared. Kyle picked up the unconscious body of the unknown Death Eater he Disapparated with him to the agreed bolt hole. Once there Kyle dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor.

It would've been stranger if you _hadn't_ picked illusions. Accepted!