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Hey, thanks for swinging by, and stuff.

Relevant information is as follows.

Time zone
- GMT+1

Preferred RPs
- High Casual to Advanced.
- Fandom RPs, (mainly Naruto.)
- Superhero RPs.
- Superhuman RPs.
- Mutant RPs.

- PMs.
- Discord.

RP Experience
- I have been RPing for about ten years.

Personality Traits
- Depressed fuck.
- Broody asshole.
- Trying to get better.

- Writing.
- Meeting new people.
- Making characters.

Personal Shit
- Age, (25).
- Country, (Sweden).
- Gender, (Male).

Most Recent Posts

'Contamination level - Critical.
Analyzing tissue deterioration - Critcal.
Initializing variables...
...Recommended solution - Lethal force.'

Managing a sigh, the agent Shrike could not stifle a somber expression making itself visible on his face, a futuristic visor allowing for information less than pleasant. Out of curiosity, the agent found himself asking, why him? Why was he the choice they had settled with, for this assignment? He was neither reluctant, nor was he going to deny an order. However, Miles was well aware of his strengths, and his weaknesses. Many of the others, or rather, all of the others had powers far more destructive than his own. Despite his professional training perhaps surpassing the others, one could not deny the strength of a godly fist, or the divinity of manifested hardlight. The answer was, however, quite simple. Shrike was Horizon's scalpel. When something needed to be done quietly, they turned to him. Rather, one could use the word discreetly. Indeed, when questionable methods found home upon an otherwise morally straight path, Horizon did not wish to squander their glimmering emblems.

"ADA, what are the risks of infection?" Shrike spoke, his voice a soft string of words, almost a mere whisper within the underground sewers. One could consider the agent quite comfortable with the company of his visor, allowing for a more tolerable presence within the slowly dripping darkness of a buzzing city's underground. Connected with a subway station long since abandoned and forgotten, it was quite possible to lay eyes on the most peculiar of sights within these ancient halls. 

'Unclear,' a robotic voice returned, an immediate analysis would consider the circumstances quite dire, related to how close to the surface this cadaver is located.'

"Yeah," Shrike frowned, rising from a knee as he stood. The creature before him used to be human, that much was clear. However, extensive mutations had resulted in an abominable sight. Muscles were torn and shredded, replaced by tumors, and boils. Fingers gave way for claws, teeth having grown sharp and dangerous. The sunken eyes above a now vacant nose were grey, and dim, as if sight left them long before life itself. Indeed, the stench was quite horrid, but with open wounds stretching their way across the leathery skin of this abomination, one could deduce as much from a glance. "The victim is male," Shrike continued, "is the mutation related to chromosomes?"

'No,' ADA returned, the artificial intelligence aiding Miles on his assignment. He proceeded to step over the corpse, mutilated and left for gruesome discovery. Continuing down the ever stretching darkness, Miles' grip around his pistol remained vigilant and steady. He was aware that anything could attack him, down here. There were no rules or regulations within these confines, no greater good or abysmal evil. No, down here, it was all about survival. No more, and certainly no less. 

'Picking up movement,' ADA broke a prolonged silence, Miles' visor analyzing the surrounding before zeroing in on a shape further down into the tunnel. His eyes widened at the sight, the hulking creature moving with mindless intent. Long, twisted limbs dragged against the filthy water, a distinct lack of care surrounding this beast, a sense of absolute witlessness shrouding it like a cape. With a head slowly swaying from one side to the other in tune with its large, heavy steps, Miles lowered himself to the dry sidewalk where he was standing, taking a knee to remain unseen. 'Analysis complete. Comparing genetical structure to previous specimen. Comparison complete. The two appear infected by the same string of mutagensis. However, the result appear to differ in physical shape.'

"Great..," the agent sighed, allowing the creature to eventually pass him by before he proceeded to follow this monstrous discovery. 

'Sending discovery to Horizon mainframe.' ADA noted, before Miles tapped the side of his visor. 'Initiating connection with Horizon satellite. Downloading city wide blueprints. Filtering out irrelevant data. Uploading map.' The voice finished, a small map appearing at the bottom right corner of Shrike's vision. It would appear that this creature, or rather, this thing, was heading towards the large, open area. Was it patrolling? That was a possibility, but somewhat unlikely. Something had mutated this beast into what it was, however, and Miles had been tasked to unravel this mystery. 

Mysterious disappearances, people vanishing, medical and scientific data stolen from some of the most prestigious facilities, it all lined up. This appeared to be the result, but to what end? What was the goal? This was not the first time Miles had come across biological weapons, and monstrous results. It was, however, the first time he had seen something like this so close to the surrounding world. It was a risky move, to be sure. Especially given Horizon's presence. 

"Probably just another mad scientist," Miles thought to himself, "it never ends."

"Astounding," came a voice, accompanied by a curious expression from Doctor Campell. "I admit, I did not expect this outcome," he continued, scribbling some notes onto the pages of his leather-bound journal. "And this manifestation, this hallucination," the doctor spoke, "he can interact with you?"

"Yeah," Willow responded, leaning back in a comfortable chair offered upon entering the man's office. 

"Woah, this dude is like watching paint dry," the echo mumbled, rolling his eyes where he sat, on the doctor's desk. "What do you think would happen if you sock him in the face? Just call it one of your psychotic episodes, I'm sure he'll let it slide!" 

"..." Clearing his throat, Willow reached a hand up and scratched the back of his head, a myriad of thoughts circling his mind before the boy proceeded to speak, "At least he's better than the voices."

"I see," Doctor Campell nodded his head, albeit idly as the man remained in deep thought. "Where is he now, this hallucination of yours?" 

"On your desk," the mutant motioned for his doctor's workplace, where a reflection of the very same boy waved gingerly at Campell. Of course, the scientifically inclined man could not see the action take place, but it offered Willow a soft smirk all the same. 

"Fascinating," Campell noted, "what mainly interests me is the fact that he's a physical entity, for you." The doctor explained, rubbing his chin as Willow's reflection appeared on the boy's lap, his arms wrapped around his neck. 

"Y-yeah..," the mutant sighed, feeling his own weight, despite its frailty, on his frame, "I think I need to get some rest, Doctor Campell," Willow finished, his echo vanishing from the boy's lap to allow him a standing position. 

"Of course," Campell agreed, "I am sure this change has taken quite a toll on you." 

"Hah! You shoulda' seen him a few moments ago. He was into it," the reflection chuckled, "or, you know, me." 

With a heavy blush, Willow spun around and started out of the office, "y-yeah, I'm real tired, see you Doctor Campell..." Unable to stifle his laughter, Willow's echo followed along, viewing the doctor's curious expression before they left the man's vicinity. 

"Oh, Willow," the shade rested his hand behind his head as they walked, "I love you, buddy." 

"Right..," the boy sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I just need to get some sleep."

"I'll make sure to cuddle up to you, keep my friend all warm and cozy," the echo winked, "or we could go and cause some mischief!" 

"How about we don't do that?" Willow returned, looking to the other with a raised eyebrow, "Maybe we should get to know the others, or some shit," the mutant groaned, less than enthused of the idea. 

"Yeah, let's do that! These losers can't hope to make shit even more boring," the echo agreed, "so, who's first!" 

"We haven't eaten yet, either," Willow tapped his chin, stopping as he saw the cafeteria. Remembering to eat had been a hassle for the longest time, and unlike so many previous scenes, he actually found himself in the possession of an appetite. Stepping into the Horizon cafeteria, the boy was met by a vast sight surely grand enough to put even the richest of individuals in awe. Finding himself a seat, the mutant lowered himself to its soft foundation and managed a gentle breath. This was quite nice. He would be a fool to deny that.

"Alright, fatass," the echo joked, "what're you gonna' eat?" 

"There's a lot of choices, here," Willow scanned through the various options offered on the menu presented for him. 

"No shit? It's a restaurant," the creature snatched the menu from Willow, a scene which for others did not actually happen. "How about that? A burger, those always work." 

"That's true," the mutant finished, "might as well go with that." He reclaimed the menu, another action which others would find quite curious, considering the empty gestures. 

"And after this, let's go out and kick some ass!" The shade prompted, shaking Willow by the shoulders. 

"I dread the day we have to..."

Pacing back and forth, Willow fingers nearly dug through his skin as they remained firmly holding the adjacent arm. How could this be? For the first time in eons, Willow was struck by a lingering string of silence. Yes, the medicine had worked. It completely silenced the voices, by placing them elsewhere. By containing all the voices in one entity, and giving it shape, Willow was dumbfounded by how a medical drug could manage the feat. "Don't hurt yourself," the reflection sighed, resting on Willow's bed. 

"You don't get to say that," the boy pointed accusingly at his phantasm, who raised an eyebrow in response, before it was replaced by a smirk. 

"Come on, Willow," the shade returned, vanishing from the bed before appearing with his arms wrapped around Willow's waist. "We're best friends!" 

"Ugh..," the mutant tensed, feeling his reflection's hands tightly pulling him into a hug. "Get off me," Willow spoke, a silent string of words as his hands met the shade's, gently pulling them off. 

"Ignoring all of that sexual tension, eh?" The reflection giggled, vanishing from behind Willow, only to appear in front of him, playfully tapping the boy's forehead, "c'mon, it's literally considered masturbation," he shrugged.

"What is wrong with you!?" Willow snapped, throwing his arms up before they were crossed in a huff. 

"Not a single thing going on in here," the shade tapped his temple, "isn't going on in there." He echoed the motion, on Willow. As much as the mutant wanted to deny that very simple reality, the shade was right. He was but a reflection of Willow, a dark, twisted reflection, but an echo all the same. They were the same person, and while every physical interaction between them was as real as the beating of Willow's heart, he knew that it was all a trick of the mind. No one was there, and for everyone else, except perhaps those with power over the mind, Willow was talking with himself. More oddly so, he was interacting with thin air. 

"I don't know whether I prefer you, or the voices..," Willow uttered, dropping to his bed with a groan, soon joined by his reflection who remained as clingy as previously displayed, his arms tightly wrapped around the host of this insanity. 

"Don't you feel better now?" A voice playfully cut at the back of Willow's head as he walked down the Horizon corridors, a heavy sigh escaping the boy's lips. 

"We need to find the doctor..," the mutant spoke, avoiding his shade's gaze before the creature appeared in front of him.

"The fuck are you ashamed of?" It raised an eyebrow, "you've gotta' learn to chill, dude." 

"Shut up..," Willow retorted, slipping his hands into his pockets as he proceeded to walk. He hated this outfit he was forced to wear. He hated this place, Horizon. He was unsure of how to react concerning anything, anymore. This freakshow sometimes made him, of all people, appear normal. There were aliens here, something Willow was unsure actually existed before arriving at Horizon. Needless to say, he hadn't had much access to the news, throughout his life. There were people with immense power within these walls, him being one of them. How did Horizon intend to contain all of them? Anything could go to hell, at any moment. Indeed, Willow wore a dampening bracelet if he ended up falling off the deep end, but then there were those without. The mutant was unsure of how this would work out, in the end.

"Where is everyone?" The shade spoke, a bored tone to his voice, "geeze', this place is boring as all hell." 

"I don't know," Willow responded, "they were at the gym, last time we checked."

"So let's go there," the echo spoke.

"Let's not," Willow sighed, "we need to go to Doctor Campell."

"So he can do what? Feed you more meds? Come on, be honest, you like me," the shade grinned, poking Willow's chest. Admittedly, there was a certain charm to this creature. As if a friend who never stopped being annoying, and always brought you into trouble. "I mean, especially after just now," he smirked. 

"Congratz', you're better than psychotic voices in my head," the mutant finished, placing a hand on his echo's shoulder before moving him aside, making way to keep walking. This had been an eventful day, to say the least. 

'Good evening, Mr. Creed.

I have been studying your most peculiar case, and I must say, I find it quite intriguing. You are not the first victim of such traumatic effects, but surely, you are the latest. Indeed, from what we have been able to gather, your voices vary quite drastically in amount, and strength, yes? Filtering through the various forms of medication you have consumed throughout the years, I have not yet witnessed a lasting effect. I will be frank with you, Mr. Creed. The medication you have relied on up until this point has left me rather unsatisfied, given the results.

Despite my inquiry to keep you from field duty, it has been decided that you shall indeed join your comrades when the time comes. However, this letter is not solely a means of negativity. No, what you have in the accompanying box is an experimental drug. I repeat, Mr. Creed, that it is experimental. Needless to say, the medication now in your possession is highly radical and not quite approved by medical peers.

What it aims to do is to stabilize the voices, repairing the various fractals of your mind into a more bearable foe. Use the drug at your own peril. However, if you choose to indulge, be sure to pass on the results.

Signed, Doctor Campell.'

It was a highly unexpected delivery which graced Willow's company, as he stepped into his room. A letter from the Horizon head doctor was surely an event worthy of praise, no? Though, the young mutant would be a fool to disregard the contents of the letter he had just read. Use at your own peril? An ominous statement, to be sure. However, it was quite clear that Doctor Campell wanted to maintain total transparency. If taking the drug he had offered would make a difference, it was worth it, wasn't that right? Though, it could just as well go terribly wrong, and everyone involved was aware of such a result. "Don't do it, Willow!" Came a voice to deter him, slender fingers going to gently open the small, metallic box offered alongside the letter. "It will only hurt you more, Willow!" Came another. 

With an obsidian gaze fixed upon the drug neatly packaged into the foam interior of the metal box, Willow was unable to tear his sights from the single, black pill contained within. How could it get worse? His voices never stopped, they never left him alone. There was rarely ever a moment's silence. How could it get worse, from here? 

Releasing the pill from its foam confines, Willow felt his heart rate accelerating. A glass of water had already been prepared for him, as if Doctor Campell knew the outcome long before it came to pass. What exactly was the alternative? Was Willow going to maintain a state of perpetual limbo where he was slowly torn to pieces by the insanity which had plagued him for several years, now? "We'll never forgive you!" The plastic pill was quite a contrast from the boy's pale skin, a dark swirl of blackness coating its shape. "After everything we've been through together, dearest Willow? Would you risk it!?"

Silence struck, for a brief moment. A gulp came to travel down the mutant's throat, his determination wavering for but an instant before being replaced by a steadfast endurance. "Yes," Willow answered, a short reply which would proceed to surely affect the rest of his existence before he placed the pill on his tongue, and flushed it down with a glass of water.

Struck by an immediate sense of fatigue, Willow felt an immense pain echoing throughout his head. The voices were screaming, never letting up. He was unable to sift through the words now blasting the walls of his sanity, shattering what felt like the last bastion of his strength. Before long, Willow dropped to the floor, his consciousness fading without pause. 

"My, oh my," a voice came to pierce the veil of silence. Indeed, silence. Was it truly so? With nary a droplet of strength remaining within him, Willow forced his eyes open to greet the dim light of his room. How long had it been? It was impossible to tell. "You actually did it," the voice continued with a soft chuckle, a pair of pale, bare feet visible at the edge of Willow's sight. 

"What the fuck..," the mutant groaned, rubbing his forehead before clumsily stumbling to a sitting position. It did not take long, once his eyes adjusted, to widen at the sight. Grinning back at him, Willow saw none other than a perfect reflection of himself. Repairing the fractals of his mind? Yes, he recalled the letter. "Holy shit..," the boy groaned once more, still feeling the pain emanating throughout his head. 

"Oh, come on," the reflection rolled his eyes, a hand reaching out for Willow to pull him towards his feet.

"H-how the hell can you touch me!?" The boy stumbled back towards his bookshelf, his heart beating against his ribs with such force that he nearly felt it shattering his ribs. "You're not real! You're me!"

"Congratz'," the reflection clapped his hands together with less than ample enthusiasm, "by that logic, what would asking me lead to? I'm you, obviously," he motioned towards Willow, "I'm even dressed in the same, sad, bullshit clothes you got going." 

"What the hell happened?" Willow tried, extending his hand in disbelief, feeling his palm connect with the full shape of this creature. 

Grinning back at the boy, his reflection teasingly flicked Willow's nose, "is it really that fucking inconceivable, Willow? The voices in your noggin' were always you, I'm you, get it? They were all made more bearable by making it one voice." The reflection smirked, "me." 

"But you're here! How the hell can you be here!?" The boy motioned towards his mirror image.

"Remember those side effects? I think, well..., you think, that your fucked up head manifested me as a way of coping with all your bullshit." The reflection tapped his chin, in deep thought.

"But you're physical!" Willow was clearly unable to get past that specific issue.

"Well, to you I am," the creature vanished from sight, only to appear behind Willow in an instant, his arms lovingly draped around the boy's shoulders, "we're gonna' have so much fun together, Willow!" 

"Holy shit..."

One often wonders where the ever stretching pavement of a passing day will take you. It was, however, a thought which had left a certain absence in Willow's mind. This was just another prison, a statement he proceeded to chant within the recess of a flayed soul. "It's not that bad, now is it?" A voice echoed within the walls of Willow's sanity, the young man's slender fingers digging into his scalp. "Just kill them all!" Came another voice, "no! Don't put yourself at a disadvantage! Not yet! Wait until they are sleeping. All these 'heroes'," a third joined him, each a ghostly string of words as if formed by his very own lips. "What do they know of suffering? Of anger!? Show them, Willow!" Clenching his teeth, Willow breathed a sharp breath, his body tensing as a bare foot felt the cold, metallic tiles against its sole. 

"Willow?" This time, one was sure to note that words came to greet his wears from an external source, the nurse. "I believe we should raise your prescribed medication," she continued, taking notes. 

"What does she know!?" The wrathful words were a scream, "she wants to silence us, Willow!" As if a screeching banshee clawing the sides of his skull, an older voice came to accompany him, "we are your only friends, Willow." This one was was somewhat softer, no, quite notably so. "We were with you when your parents hurt you," it proceeded, "in the asylum, during your beatings, when you tried to jack off..," it chuckled, "we're you. We are all you. That will never change." 

"Thanks," the young man finally spoke, his silent and raspy voice a mere whisper as he stood, leaving the hospital bed vacant. "I'll be fine." 

"We'll make sure to keep it, that way," the nurse smiled, allowing Horizon's new addition to step out of the medical examination room. 

"You're no fun, Willow," a voice bellowed, "you didn't even make her your puppet," it instigated. "Idiot, if he did that, we'd be in deep shit!" Another responded. Indeed, in a way, it was quite entertaining to listen to these conflicting opinions. As if every feeling within the boy's heart had been given a mind of its own, each in constant argument with the other. He was well aware that these voices were mere fiction, something brought to life through the fractured pieces of his sanity. Even so, the voices actually looked out for him. They never wanted him to hurt himself but rather aimed their wrath at others to prevent Willow from being hurt, yet again. 

One would be a fool to dismiss their insanity. Willow's extremes, every emotional turmoil which would otherwise boil over had been given a tune to sing, and for him to hear. "Shut up," he spoke, out of earshot of anyone else. 

"There he is!" The internal tormentors responded, "we missed you, Willow!" 

"I worry," the boy spoke, dropping to a sofa in the shared common room. It would appear that most inhabitants were present at the gym, a place he wouldn't be caught dead in. "There are at least two people here with the ability to hear you."

"Exciting, isn't it!?" A response came, "we all look forward to meeting them," it continued, "greeting them," a second voice pitched in, "feeling them," a third came, "killing them?" A fourth asked. "Why do you always have to ruin it!? Piss off!" 

Slipping a headset over his ears, the troubled young man turned some music on, and made sure to raise the volume. This was perfect. The music always drowned the voices out, and it allowed for a moment's rest. Others might have considered the volume quite high, but for Willow, it was quite perfect. Sometimes, however, listening to a relaxing tune worked, as well. The voices were part of Willow, they were the fractals of his mind. Sometimes, they were quiet and simply listened, other times they sang along. It was difficult to count exactly how many voices were within his head but Willow had been able to dot an angry voice, a sultry one, and a careful tune. It varied, with those three being the foremost and prominent contenders. 

Running a hand up his scrawny torso, a gentle breath managed its way out of his lips, large, black eyes turning to look at the television. He could not hear what the characters were saying, but subtitles were enough to dispell the issue. How often would he need to head out and fight crime, along with the others? How often would he be placed in front of a fanatic with a gun? Willow's ability was unforgiving at its most merciful of levels. Horizon would undoubtedly wish to show him to the world, at their own peril. Horizon's heroes were colorful, they were spectacular, and none of them was a Reaper. Even the darker heroes were heroic. That was not Willow. The boy was not afraid of getting hurt. He was not afraid of others, not in the slightest. In fact, he had reached a level of apathy where external conflict barely even affected him. However, he was quite terrified of what would happen, if he unleashed his powers. The last time it happened, he left mutilated corpses in his wake. It happened with his parents, and it happened at the asylum.

With that in mind, Willow's voices were not evil. They were psychotic, but not evil. As if beasts of the most fundamental emotional streams, they were driven by passion. "You guys won't break me," he spoke up, lowering the volume of his music. 

"Break you?" A voice responded, "we would never do that, our dearest, most precious Willow! We're here to protect you!" It spoke, "to love you!" Another added. "Maybe you should as one of those mind wizards to put you inside your head so we can really pleasure you..," a chuckle emanating from within his skull.

"Piss off," the boy sighed, sinking down in the sofa with an arm covering his eyes. 

The feline creature was self-aware. He understood that there was a large difference between himself, and others. One would also be wise to note that he was read up on the concept of pets. Of course, that might have been a slightly misleading term. The information was granted, one might say. As the cat giggled at Dawn's statement, he winked at the massive man with a prevalent, somewhat mischevious grin making itself visible upon the feline's fanged snout. "I'm the best ninja, like, ever!" Onyx giggled, motioning to himself with a thumb, "but it's real easy to catch me if ya' got milkshakes." He nodded. Indeed, the cat had gotten quite addicted to sweets, and who could fault him? 

All the same, turning his attention to Silas, the feline blinked in confusion for a moment, "Woah, this one's popular! If they're gonna' make kittens, I've learned that they should find a private spot, first." Onyx noted, tapping his chin. Though, he quickly found himself pulled from the thought, his mind dispelled when yet another girl entered the gym. It was getting quite crowded, one might say. 

She appeared uncomfortable, to state the least, and this disturbance found itself fixed on Onyx, himself. With a curious tilt of his head, the cat locked his gaze upon this girl, her scent somewhat different from the rest. "That female thing is afraid of me, I think," Onyx motioned towards Shift, a clawed hand reaching towards his snout as he scratched an itch. There were countless variables to take into consideration, around these people. One man seemed to be made of light, another appeared to be in a constant state of fatigue. A girl was quite obviously in heat, and this new addition found herself in the position of fear, amongst those of a feline heritage? It was difficult to keep up. 

"Hey, you look like someone ran over your kibble!" Onyx stated, moving past the crowd which had gathered around him, and leaped towards Shift, almost a pounce, before landing next to her. His hands by his paws, the cat remained in a crouched position, his tail slowly swaying from one side to the other, "did someone run over your kibble?" He asked, with a soft frown. "Cause'," Onyx continued, "that would suck!"

Dropping to his backside, the cat perked at a thought creeping into his mind, "Oh! I know what'll fix this! A song! Let's see..," the feline needed only a moment, before proceeding, "I can't think of anything," he sighed, shaking his head. "Oh well, if life gives ya' lemon, and all that!"

The gym, a locale where likeminded individuals spend their well earned time to acquire a pursuit of well-being, paving their road to health and stability. That was not why Onyx found his way to this most curious of forums. The cat's large, curious and feline eyes were quickly fixed on his future allies, a boy who appeared younger than most others finding himself first in line. This was Silas, correct? Yes, Onyx had gotten all of this information injected into his mind, during each and every procedure of creation. It was, in fact, quite difficult to maintain which part of his knowledge was based on a week's experience, and what was naught but artificial knowledge. Silas, The Sleeper, Horizon's very own third eye. Quite a peculiar ability, that one. Though, one ought not to fault Onyx's feline curiosity when less than sublime thoughts arose in reaction to this feature. 

Ah, and then the cat would note he of most flamboyance. Well, apart from Onyx himself, that was. Ricardo Fenix, the man who's personality only barely managed to surpass the size of his fists. Finally, there was one more individual of odd nature within the confines of this gym. Joseiah, a man who would appear quite common, or dare one say normal, in any other company. 

This was, however, Horizon. Normality did not hold a place here, and that was quite true when Onyx leaped onto the various equipment neatly displayed throughout. He was, after all, a cat. Maintaining a high presence was only second nature, as one might say. " Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods? " A soft voice began, Onyx words stringing along an emotional trail as a hand came to find home upon his chest. Leaning back against the equipment he had planted himself on, Onyx laid down with a soft sigh and continued, " where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds? " The cat turned his attention to the other three males occupying the gym, a soft smirk making its way to his lips.

Indeed, one could never quite know if Onyx was, in fact, male, or female. He wasn't sexually dimorphic, due to his nature as a cat, and his voice was in all respects incredibly androgynous. " Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? " The feline proceeded, his slender arms falling limp at his sides, those large eyes turning to view the ceiling with a short pause. " Late at night I toss and I turn, and I dream of what I need !!" Raising his voice in a powerful burst, Onyx displayed the full beauty of his singer's blessing, jolting to a sitting position before continuing. 

" I need a hero !!" Onyx clenched his fist, motioning towards the others with his free appendage, now revealing the main chorus as it fit the situation by all measures, " I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night. He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh from the fight !!"

Leaping down from the equipment, the cat landed on weightless paws, his movements as if a breeze brushing its way through the gym. Leaping onto the training bikes, he walked across their line with ease, proceeding the song,  "I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero till the morning light. He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon, and he's gotta be larger than life!!" Indeed, this creature was most peculiar, make no mistake. With a graceful jump, Onyx flipped through the air in a circular motion before landing between the three men, his tail playfully brushing against Silas. " Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy. Somewhere just beyond my reach, there's someone reaching back for me ..," the feline's eyes met the other's for a brief moment, all before shifting his gaze to Dawn, and Blizz. " Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat. It's gonna' take a Superman to sweep me off my feet!!" 

With a backflip, the cat's paws found their way atop the gym equipment once more, his movements almost a blur before continuing the song. "I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night! He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh from the fight !!" The cat sang, repeating the chorus as his arms extended in an inviting manner. "I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero till the morning light! He's gotta' be sure, and it's gotta' be soon, and he's gotta be larger than life!! I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night... " Pouncing the weights, Onyx slid down the weighted pole in a spirling motion, his action less...viewer-friendly in some minds. 

" Up where the mountains meet the heavens above. Out where the lightning splits the sea! I could swear there is someone somewhere watching me..," Onyx eyes met Silas' for a prolonged, almost uncomfortable moment, before the cat broke into song once more, "through the wind and the chill and the rain, and the storm and the flood. I can feel his approach like a fire in my blood! Finally reaching the end of this fantastical music piece, Onyx leaned back against the pole and produced the words. " I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night! He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh from the fight! I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero till the morning light! He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon. And he's gotta be larger than life..,"

With heavy breaths, the cat's wide smirk finally mellowed out before he leaped into the air, landing with a prowler's finesse in front of the three men. "'Sup? I'm, Onyx."


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