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    1. Shard 12 yrs ago

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In Pariah → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Location
💀 New Haven State Hospital.

Interactions
💀 Event Post.

Time
💀 Saturday - Afternoon.


Relaxation was a desperate pursuit, one which would allow for a moment’s rest, and a spell of respite. A week embraced by chaos and destruction, alongside confusion and countless questions. Rashawn was alive, and a Variant to boot, Midtown had been attacked, and Mr. Pernass also joined the ranks of local ‘Monsters’. Though, in regards to that most peculiar statement, Conner would be lying if he claimed that doubt hadn’t been sown.

The smiling, quirky young man who maintained a positive outlook appeared to have taken a backseat to melancholy. How fickle it was, a teenager’s state of mind. Where it at one moment allowed for laughter, the next scene expressed tears and a quivering voice. Indeed, emotions were a chaotic tune, and pinpointing them was at times a herculean task.

He could hear the shuffling of feet accompanying a ceaseless trickle of machines beeping in tandem with heartbeats and stability. The song of a hospital, a never changing string of lyrics Connor had memorized, and could very well turn into a painting with closed eyes. An ironic thought, marrying sound and color in an attempt to witness harmony, or discord, depending on the long awaited result.

Slowly, each claw clicked against the long since chipped table Connor had adopted in regards to homework and assignments. Not an activity native to Saturdays, but responsibility overpowered comfort. Though, having been promised dinner with his mother for the first time in what felt like a millennium, Connor could not abandon a chance at the scenario. Something he had been looking forward to. An odd prospect, perhaps, for what teenager wanted time spent with their mother? It was a vacancy only truly understood if felt.

Closing his book, Conner exhaled a long breath. Maths, his worst enemy. The Variant would rather have stood beneath the sun than withstand another hour of numbers circling his mind like merciless blades. Rather, Connor substituted his notebook with a sketchbook, which in itself offered a world of difference. He dragged his pen across the page in a repeated fashion, the boy’s free hand resting beneath his chin. A knight slaying a dragon, the forces of good striking down at those of evil intent. The display caused Connor to chuckle quietly. If only the world beyond his sketchbook was as easy to manage. If only it was as black and white as the image coming to life before him.

Easy to manage, a curious string of words, indeed. Reality was anything but simple, and the many shades of grey coating a beautiful, yet cruel world made itself known through every action rippling across time and space. Connor could still recall the term for it. ‘Butterfly Effect’. Everything was a chain reaction. No matter how miniscule an act, no matter how complex or pedestrian, monuments find their infancy in pebbles.

It was impossible to tell what had led to Midtown’s unfortunate disaster, as a slideshow of events would end in the very beginning of time. However, what continued to branch from such misery had found its way far closer to home.

An explosion echoed throughout the New Haven State Hospital, causing Connor to nearly fall from his chair. Cries of agony and terror shot through every corridor like banshee howls, the scene shifting from a mellow, if relaxing moment to chaos, and destruction. The transition was abrupt, a line in the sand which promptly shifted calm past to disastrous present. Despite being on the fourth floor, Connor saw how walls shattered in response to an attack, every calculated strike rippling from within the hospital by enemies who knew exactly where to position themselves.

An attack. When the situation dawned on him, Connor found himself frozen by the threshold separating a long corridor from the nurses’ lounge. Dust particles floated throughout the building, remnants of interior which the now paralyzed boy tried to summarize within his mind. An attack. One reads of this constantly, every news outlet covering one disaster after the next but no matter how close, Connor found it impossible to equal that with what he was feeling at this moment. Dread. Never before had he understood the true meaning of such a word, as when he stood in the middle of a warzone.

If he was to describe the situation, slow motion would likely do it justice. He was unsure if he remembered to breathe, or even blink. Every second passed as if a prolonged eternity, chaos swirling like a tornado across what he had once considered a second home. Once the shock began to slowly settle, it was instead replaced by deafening screams, accompanied by what could only have been inhuman powers. It was an assumption which bore fruit, as Connor’s obsidian gaze slowly turned towards the end of a shattered hallway, where three Variants were paving a path through bloodied shapes coating a previously white floor in red crimson.

Another explosion echoed across the fourth floor of New Haven State Hospital, only moments before Connor felt himself pushed into the nurse lounge. His ears were ringing, body aching from the pain of a shockwave, but the Variant could still note a presence above him. “C-Connor..,” came a forced statement, the boy’s eyes widening as he saw his mother shielding him.

”Mom..,” the little ‘Monster’ tried, a warm sensation seeping through his clothes, and blanketed the pale skin beneath. ”Mom!” Connor exclaimed, his eyes adjusting to the dust-ridden sight, clawed hands attempting to gently move his mother over, where a sanguine picture confirmed every terror and fear which had been building since the moment Connor regained his composure. ”Mom!” The boy repeated, tears now forcing themselves through black orbs where they were fixed, on his mother who had protected her son from devastation. Splinters filled her back, wooden debris forcing itself through her frame haphazardly. A mere look further down would reveal for Connor a black substance trickling down his side.

Words were traded for cries, trembling hands attempting to lift the woman enough to meet her gaze, a faded lifeless expression which caused Connor’s heart to stop beating, if such a thing was possible.

The sound of footsteps across shattered glass and splintered wood turned the boy’s attention forward, a gathering of three Variants standing in front of him. Pain, fear, and anxiety gripped the boy with iron fists. A lifeless mother laid motionless in his arms, breathing growing heavier, and less stable. ””M-Mom.., please.., wake up..,” Connor pleaded, his consciousness slowly fading in response to a wound tearing itself through his side.

“Come with us,” a voice pierced the silence, though it was not possible to deduce who of the three had spoken.

With his claws nearly digging into the body in his arms, Connor’s tear-filled gaze fixed itself on those who had joined him in what remained of the nurse lounge. It was anger, the feeling taking over every fraction of the little ‘Monster’. The anger which remained hidden behind countless layers of confidence, security, and alleged understanding. Anger which soon turned to hatred, which in turn resulted in an inferno. Much like Connor had learned the meaning of dread, he would also soon understand the meaning of absolute, unhindered hatred.

There was no response to the trio, but rather, a roaring scream, the boy’s ghostly voice shaping itself into its true purpose. A spectral shout, a warcry, accompanied by an extended hand which had been coated in a liquid darker than the deepest of night. As if a wind, a torrent of force manifesting itself into a furious wave of crashing energy, Connor called forth a necrotic judgement slamming into the Variants before him.

Skin was ripped from place, flesh melting, and rotting in response. Limbs were torn from their sockets, eyes withering into nothing but liquid. Screams once belonging to victims were soon replaced by attackers’ anguish, their bodies ripped asunder beneath Death’s embrace. With wounds ripping themselves open across the Variants’ frames, mortal coils flayed and rotted, little remained other than faded memories of shattered bones. It was followed by absolute darkness, and at long last, silence, where Connor’s vision faded into obscurity alongside his consciousness.
In Pariah → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
R H A M S E S
& N D

Location || Warehouse District
Timeline || October 25th, 2130; 7:00PM +


Sometimes, his human emotions were annoying. A self reflection brought from a moment of standing in one place for seemingly too long. His path was impeded by a wooden door that normally stood no chance against him. Anxiety kept him on the outside of it, and he wasn’t sure where it came from. He did not feel it when he saw what the media considered a tragedy simply two days prior to this one.

A variant had attained to some sort of insanity or something similar, as it went on a rampage through New Haven. It was along the way to the meeting with his fellow Undergrounders, his seeker eye caught view of shadowy creature. It killed indiscriminately, and killed many. Brought destruction with it too. NOVA Agents and Soldiers made their way on the scene to chase the creature down and contain it.

The task took them longer than The Watcher calculated. It even managed to take some of their lives as well. It looked dangerous, and even tapped into Rhamses compassion for the surface. He would have stepped in to try his hand at containing the creature, but they managed to corner it. Volts of electricity weakened it enough to be drawn away from the area.

His seeker eye saw this, recorded it to memory. Soon after, when he met with the others, he shared the recording as a projection. The reports that followed did not present variants in a favorable light, and was only going to prove to increase tensions between human and variant kind moving forward. It was advised to keep a low profile for some time, even lower than they normally did. This was concerning...Baba was taken by humans, for a purpose unknown to him.

Rha’s brain recollected this information, and used it as motivation. To summon up the courage to knock on Connor’s door. It was strange, that he felt dread pass through his system. His heart’s pace quickened, and the slight breeze decreased in temperature, causing his skin follicles to clump together; goosebumps. It was odd to feel this considering the boy was much smaller than he, however he felt the need to be more direct this time.

For one, he was delaying a little longer than The Watcher anticipated that it’d take for him to walk out with the canine creature. For the second...Rha was overthinking the simple task of knocking on a door. In order to prevent any further delay, he raised his hand to the wooden prism, and


Knock, knock, knock

It wasn’t long after Connor had lowered the phone that he heard a knock on the door. Calling these series of scenarios an eventful evening was an understatement, by far. For a brief moment, a split second one might say, Connor froze. Was it the police? Did they want to take him into custody as a precaution? No, that was ridiculous, a result of the boy spiraling into a downhill series of thoughts. ”Pull yourself together,” the Variant mumbled, his petite frame moving in tune with annoyingly recurring distress.

”I am sorry for all the distractions, Cerberus,” the teen forced a smile down at his beloved companion, ”we’ll head out, soon,” he finished, attaching a leash which maintained itself as a formality. Cerberus overpowered his owner with ease, and a leash managed little in regards to control. However, one ought to keep up appearances.

The click of claws tapped against a metallic door handle as Connor pushed it down, and dispelled the barrier between himself and a crashing wave of emotional chaos.

So different, but yet, so alike. Memories made flesh, longing and sadness personified beneath dark, brown skin. An onlooker would likely find it odd, the Variant once more freezing, but this repeated reaction lingering due to justification. Legs grew weak, a body trembling, and obsidian eyes watering from the sight. Connor’s fingers fell limp, the leash soundlessly meeting with a carpet by his feet. A single step back made him feel a thud against his backside from Cerberus’ wagging tail, curious grey eyes gazing at the lengthy figure towering above the beast’s master. There was a distinct presence Connor knew all too well, a flash from years now long gone, and a wound only somewhat healed, though slightly torn every time he held onto cherished headphones.

With a shaky breath, the Variant attempted to grip his senses as to not completely lose control of an already damaged equilibrium. ”R-Rashie..?” The name was one which had remained unsaid for ages, Connor’s pale cheeks now wet with streaks of glistening tears teasing at his throat, all the while. A trembling hand extended towards an old, vanished friend, as if the image was hard to believe, only for salty pearls to grow more prominent as Connor’s dainty appendage came in contact with a dear memory.


At first, there was an unfamiliar sense of tension in the air that Rha can say that he never felt before. Something strange, as though excited and afraid at once, and this feeling only extended upon the door opening. His human eye gleamed its once natural color, trying to understand what Connor’s reaction was. In that way, they both seemed frozen, the door’s archway a barrier.

The sudden thickness of the air was filled when the name was said. One that panged a piece of his memory. He heard it before, from this voice, and the feeling was something that words could only barely describe. Many images came of this boy’s face, albeit, he was smaller. They were often smiling, and varying piano tones played in his head. An inner warmth that brought a small smile to his face, after many days that he didn’t. There was never a reason before this moment.

“Felice di vederti, Connor.” Were his words, consumed by a form of nostalgia that he could only liken as being
childlike? The phrase felt familiar to his tongue, and yet so foreign to his memory. The words he said were italian...inherently, yet, from seemingly nowhere. Yet, it felt nice to say them, as his emotions could confirm in this moment; it was ‘nice to see him’, again.


Swallowing his tears, the Variant moved a hand towards his eyes before a futile attempt to dry those pale cheeks followed. There was no use in seeking stability, anymore. Without another word, Connor stepped forth, his slender arms wrapping themselves around the taller individual, tightly gripping him in a desperate embrace. ”I thought you were dead..,” came a weak string of words, Connor’s attempt at clinging to his friend ending only once the hug reached a natural, if reluctant conclusion. ”Everyone..,” the Variant continued, shaking his head softly, ”thought you were dead.”

Rha’s disappearance and presumed death had been reported on several times, and once the investigation was abandoned, Connor’s heart sank into a pit in his stomach. He could recall it, still. A best friend, an only friend, lost and gone from this world without anything to come from it. ”What.., what happened to you, Rashie?” Connor continued, his dark gaze rising towards Rashawn’s features. This was not the same person from all those years back, clearly.


The hug was an abnormal gesture to him. Something that his brain could logically define, yes, an affectionate embrace that usually involves one being looping their arms around another. But the emotion in the moment transcended the definition entirely. Those were real tears that Connor was releasing, and to be honest, he could feel the stinging behind his eye as well. He tried to process what Connor was saying as he pulled at least one arm up to his back. His dreads drooped down from where they were under the hood and rested around the smaller boy’s head.

Rha tried to process his words, taking in what was already new information. Connor apparently thought that he was dead. When he extended the phrase to ‘everyone’, it seemed, this past person his bare memory could only somewhat piece together was very important to Connor, as well as the people they interacted with. Furthermore, his absence, being the catalyst for the belief of his passing.

His thoughts carried him out of the moment for a second, coming back only when their hug ended. Rha blinked back, and his seeker eye glowed brightly, as if it had momentarily went to sleep. Connor’s question became one that hit his psyche perhaps a little harder than he thought it would. His arms shook a little and his expression defaulted to dumbfoundedness. He couldn’t even cry, and the look of desperation was a little more obvious than he may have wanted to let on.

“I...I don’t know.” He admitted, voice cracking a little, sounding like an audio recording glitching. He looked over his shoulder to peer down the street. Paranoia set in as he wasn’t sure who was listening, despite there being only sparse foot traffic on the block at the moment.

“I don’t know anything
” He confirmed his earlier statement, turning his head back to Connor. By now he noticed his slight tremble, and stopped himself consciously.

“All I know is you.”


Reaching past his friend, Connor pushed the door to a close. Sadly, Cerberus would need to wait for a fair bit longer before that promised walk. ”So you disappear..,” the Variant spoke, a small sigh making its way past his lips, ”and return a.., cyborg..? And you don’t remember anything,” he continued, more a statement than a question. Letting his arms fall to his sides, Connor stepped back and dropped onto the same armrest he had considered ever so comfortable only a few moments earlier.

Unable to stifle a chuckle, the pale Variant raised his hand, wiping what remained of those tears, even though they were soon replaced. ”Today’s been so fucked up..,” he grumbled, though paused soon after Rha’s final statement. Clenching his teeth, the boy raised his dark eyes to meet the taller figure, ”I’m pretty hard to forget..,” came a small joke, desperately forcing itself through the sadness in an attempt at humor in this emotional hour. ”I guess I could ask you a million questions.., but honestly..,” Connor started, his clawed digits moving together where he sat, ”it doesn’t seem like you can answer them, so.., all I can ask is..,” the teen paused, considering the notion before eventually speaking, ”you’re here now, that’s what’s important, right? What.., do you plan on doing now?”


As the emotional high seemed to be evening out, Rha’s logical mentality slowly began to trickle back in. Honestly, he was a little surprised that Connor believed and recognized him so quickly. Regardless of that though, he took in his question. He felt the urge to look around again, but didn’t give in to his paranoia this time.

“I have to find Baba. Men with suits took him away, and I can’t determine where. My mind tells me it was the same people that took us
” Rha’s eye aimed toward the ground. “Though, I remember what that place is, and how it looks...I can’t pinpoint where. Memory indicators are foggy.” His Seeker eye started blinking, and Rha felt the past couple of days weigh on him.

“Life Support Systems, forty percent
” He said quietly, again with an android’s echo. There was a moment of silence as he thought, face aimed toward the floor. 40 wasn’t great and he definitely needed some time to recharge, but Rha significantly cared less about that in the current moment with Connor.

“My hope in finding you again is if you have any information about what happened to me. Hopefully that could lead me back to free Baba
” Rha explained, aiming his eyes back up.

“Please...I must find him.”


Attempting to compute with everything a long lost friend had been saying, Connor raised his hands, gently rubbing at his forehead. The worst thing this Variant had been expecting when waking that morning was more prejudice. However, what he got by far surpassed the fears brewing within. Despite the short span of time which had passed between each, and every event, Connor was barely able to link them together, anymore. It felt like days, even weeks, had managed to pass across the period of a few moments.

”I..,” Connor tried, lowering his dark gaze to the floor, ”I don’t know anything, Rashie,” the boy spoke, his senses back to what could be considered normal. ”And, wait.., forty what? Are you hurt?” A moment’s lapse in composure caused the young Variant to stand from where he had been sitting, ”maybe we should go to the hospital, Rashie, I mean.., no, we definitely should but I’ve watched enough movies to know that the people who are after you..,” he stopped. Trailing off was not ideal, right now. With a deep breath, Connor shook his head. He needed to stay calm. No good decisions were made in panic. ”I’ll.., I’ll help you find him.., I mean.., of course I will,” the Variant stated. It was obvious, and there was no other path to take in this scenario. ”But.., I don’t even know where to start.”


A sharp pang hit Rha in the chest when Connor came to the revelation of not knowing anything. The stinging behind his eyes got worse, and his skin flashed white only very briefly before he quickly regained his composure. It was as though his world had come to a startling crash around him, as this was his sole lead. Connor was a key piece to his memory, and even him not knowing what happened was disheartening.

It was in these moments of doubt that he missed what Connor had said partially, but picked up when he mentioned a hospital. He quietly blinked but slowly nodded at his friend redirecting his interests away from a physical facility. It wasn’t what he needed, but he could tell the information was overwhelming Connor to an extent. A comforting warmth radiated from within as, even though having no idea what was going on, he promised to help Rha anyway. The bionic being smiled.

“I only require access to a common electrical outlet...There I can recharge my energy...It’s been several days.” Rha explained to answer Connor’s concerns about his health earlier.

“A place we can begin is perhaps discovering what happened the last you saw or heard from me, or Baba perhaps.”
In Mahoukyo: A Tale of Three → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Full Name
⚫ Artemis Rin.

Nickname
⚫ Arty.
⚫ Bullet Mage.
⚫ Little Shit.

Gender
⚫ Male.

Age
⚫ Sixteen.
⚫ (Twenty-seven).

Birthday
⚫ December 1st.

Affiliation
⚫ The Rikimaru Family.



Appearance
⚫ The first thing anyone would notice upon viewing this young marksman would be his petite frame.
⚫ Standing at a meager five feet, with an inch to add, Artemis manages intimidation on par with a puppy.
⚫ Equally so, his scrawny shape with muscles clearly vacant from every limb leaves him weighing a peculiar sixty pounds.
⚫ Artemis displays a color palette of black and green, a theme clearly followed throughout in terms of fashion.

⚫ Jet black hair, mostly unkempt, cover his head, and often finds its way into his large, emerald eyes, unless kept at bay.
⚫ It is common to find Artemis in a beanie, or headband, to counteract this.
⚫ Further down his pale features, the marksman’s eyes display a pair of jade orbs confessing to mischief.

⚫ One would be forgiven for mistaking this creature a teenager no older than fifteen, and Artemis does enjoy using apparent innocence to his advantage.
⚫ Equally so, the marksman expresses androgyny, which alongside an equally genderless voice can make it very difficult to deduce his sex.
⚫ Clearly smaller, and far more petite than your average male, Artemis is aware of his limitations, and attempts to highlight his strengths when possible.

⚫ Artemis often wears a small smile upon pale, slender lips.
⚫ Balancing between mischievous and polite, it can be difficult to deduce which spectrum the marksman aims to convey with his body language.

⚫ In regards to clothing, Artemis is a simple young man.
⚫ Though he tends towards black, and green as his ‘trademarked’ fashion, he feels most at home in casual hoodies, and cargo pants.
⚫ Across his chest, one will pinpoint a strap connected to a shoulder bag.
⚫ Converse shoes are found on his feet, and Artemis claims that boots are too clunky.

Personality
⚫ Laid back, relaxed, and composed, Artemis maintains curiously monotone state of mind.
⚫ Though he is quite the rascal, and clearly enjoys being a ‘little shit’, the marksman retains a calm, collected exterior.
⚫ It has been stated that his almost apathetic approach can be disturbing, but this is usually regarded with a shrug, in turn.

⚫ While Artemis is difficult to read, his ‘poker face’ on full display, a good eye will catch a smirk, or grin, quite often.
⚫ It goes hand in hand with a fun-loving attitude, which dictates Artemis’ many decisions.
⚫ Some may call the marksman impulsive, but that would go against his entire purpose as a rifleman.
⚫ As such, Artemis claims that he does nothing ‘without carefully thinking it through’ first.
⚫ This is a lie.

⚫ Artemis is affectionate towards those he considers close, and awkwardly shy around those he maintains stronger feelings for.
⚫ He may not speak a lot, but rather expresses himself through gestures, instead.
⚫ A fitting word in describing Artemis’ personality is ‘quirky’.

⚫ He is incredibly scared of spiders, and this fear also extends to wasps.
⚫ Artemis is also aware of his many physical restrictions, and is a humble individual.
⚫ The marksman never tries to measure himself against others, but rather, attempts to leave his staple through acting rather than boasting.

Likes
⚫ Guns, Artemis loves guns.
⚫ The marksman enjoys climbing, and adores heights.
⚫ He has a lot of affection for animals.
⚫ As one might expect from a rifleman, Artemis likes ‘toying with his food’, when distance allows.
⚫ Artemis is addicted to energy drinks.
⚫ He is also addicted to candy.
⚫ The one thing Artemis likes more than ‘shooting shit’, is singing.
⚫ Again, being a rifleman, Artemis likes taking his time, and waiting.

Dislikes
⚫ Manual labor, Artemis is a weakling, and he knows it.
⚫ Vegetables are disgusting.
⚫ Insects are gross.
⚫ Artemis doesn’t like standing too close to the big, burly types.

Strengths
⚫ Marksmanship
đŸ”· Artemis displays masterful skill with firearms.
đŸ”· This is clearly his main, and greatest strength.

⚫ Mobility
đŸ”· Though Artemis is small, it does work to his advantage.
đŸ”· The boy is quick on his feet, agile, and very elusive.

⚫ Composure
đŸ”· Finally, Artemis is very difficult to fluster.
đŸ”· He is patient, and can maintain his aim.

Weaknesses
⚫ Muscles
đŸ”» As one might expect, Artemis lacks in physical strength, quite severely.
đŸ”» Though he can handle heavy recoils, he has nothing to offer in terms of power.

⚫ Vitality
đŸ”» Artemis' small frame isn't just for looks.
đŸ”» It's also fragile, like a little bitch.

⚫ Melee Combat
đŸ”» Being a ranged specialist, and lacking in strength, Artemis is useless in melee endeavors.
đŸ”» He doesn't have the size to make a difference, either.

⚫ Flamboyance
đŸ”» Artemis has no bombastic magical powers.

Relationships
⚫ Artemis had a quiet, secretive relationship with another member of his faction, for a time.
⚫ This relationship did not work out, and the secrecy grew far too exhausting.

⚫ In regards to family, Artemis has very little contact with them.

Backstory
⚫ It might be rather unexpected to see a small, weak, and fragile person in the Rikimaru Family, a faction valuing strength and honor, neither of which Artemis has displayed in any notable fashion.
⚫ However, he has been a member for the past nine years, which warrants a rooted position within the faction.
⚫ Throughout his membership, Artemis has never quite displayed any aspiration to climb the ranks, and appears content with a more laid back daily routine.
⚫ Of course, his ability with the gun was what gave him a position in the Rikimaru Family, to begin with.
⚫ When asked where he came into the possession of his skills, Artemis simply shrugs and claims to have 'been around'.
⚫ In truth, the story is quite simple, and Artemis hails from a military family.
⚫ However, he never had the discipline to follow in his parents' footsteps.

⚫ 'You have all the skills, but none of the drive, and you're about as disciplined as a lazy child,' is an exact quote from Artemis' mother.
⚫ He had a comfortable life, and received a formal education both theoretically, and in practice, but never went as far as to officially join the army.
⚫ Rather, Artemis felt like he belonged somewhere else, and it was made clear that his position as a Rikimaru Marksman was a sure shot.
⚫ This, as one might have expected, did not sit well with his family, considering how both of his parents are military generals.

⚫ 'Why do you waste your potential, like this?', was a repeated question.
⚫ 'Because you don't decide what my potential is,' was a repeated response.
⚫ It is unclear whether Artemis is simply afraid of making himself noteworthy due to his limitations, or if it is, in fact, pure laziness.
⚫ However, if one was to dig deeper, the sentence 'I'm only as strong as my gun, and sometimes, that's scary,' makes itself known.


Potential
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Experience
âš«đŸŸ©đŸŸ©đŸŸ©âŹ›âŹ›âŹ›âŹ›

Aptitude
âš«đŸŸ©đŸŸ©đŸŸ©đŸŸ©âŹ›âŹ›

Magic


Equipment



Extra
⚫ Artemis is a closeted homogay.
⚫ Though he refuses to sing in front of people, Artemis is, in fact, a wonderful singer, with a great voice.
⚫ He is often seen listening to music, with headphones.
⚫ Artemis does not know how old he is.
⚫ Artemis' parents moved to Japan from Germany, shortly after his fifteenth birthday, due to their military careers.
⚫ He has a thick German accent.
⚫ He speaks English, Japanese, and German, however with an accent filling each.

Faction Connections
Elliot Silber
❀ "There are scalpels, there are chainsaws, and there is Elliot. Ah, the fights you get into, genosse, like moths to a.., fire."

Devin D'Artagnan Coal
❀ "Share with me your plans, kommandant, and my rifle will move in tune with your motions. Life is a chessboard, ja? Checkmate is at your fingertips."

Saori Asakura
❀ "FrĂ€ulein.., you terrify me to no end. It is truly quite beautiful.., from a distance."

External Connections
Onassis Daisuke
💙 "Vergib mir Vater, denn ich habe gesĂŒndigt.., inscribe on me your judgement, and expell all my demons. Das abenteuer beginnt."

Jana Reid
💙 "Careful not to let the iron grip of Akechi strangle you, frĂ€ulein. A pure heart makes for a large target."

Enishi Kizuna
💙 "Chains? Oh.., wie frech. I do hope the Akechi keeps you around for other reasons, madame."

Kurokami Takuto
💙 "Schöner Mann. I can't wait to see the poetry hiding within that persona of indifference."

Aruru Ishtar-Gamelat
💙 "Effort is not always a poisnous fruit, mein liebling."

Maya Dozier
💙 "A heart of passion, and joy. Diese frau seems to have it all figured out. Live for the thrill. Yes, ich bin damit einverstanden."

Rinishi Kirizaki
💙 "A bow? How.., archaic, but a beautiful katze you are. Those fuzzy ears.., melting my heart."

Rena Kirizaki
💙 "FrĂ€ulein, we are not short. Everyone else is simply a giant. Teach your beloved brother to be proud of his heritage, ja?"

Akechi Fujino
💙 "What an annoying little mĂ€dchen. Reckless, loud, and obnoxious.., I'm surprised you're not in the Rikimaru."

In Mahoukyo: A Tale of Three → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Pariah → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
&

Location:
Felix’ and Connor’s homes.

Interactions:
Felix and Connor.

Time:
Evening.



Inhaling a long breath, Connor was unable to resist a series of laughs echoing throughout his living room. Merely a moment needed to pass before the boy was tackled to the floor, with a massive canine aquinting him with a large, sloppy tongue. ”Cerberus!” Connor tried, his giggles soon fading beneath a happy bark. ”We’ll never get out unless you move your fluffy ass!” The Variant exclaimed. This was a pleasant variation from what he had gone through since that morning. Never before did he think that words would stick, quite like this. It actually bothered him, to be blamed for an atrocity. Only a day before, Connor was under the impression that nothing could pierce his ghostly skin, and that everything bounced off as if he had been carved from titanium. Perhaps he was wrong.

Pulling himself out from beneath Cerberus, Connor dusted his clothes off with a huff, ”thanks, Cerbie..,” came a faded whisper, ”you’re always there for me.., you big goof..,” the little ‘Monster’ smiled, his arms finding home around Cerberus’ neck in a tight, loving hug. ”Now let’s see if I can get you into a harness without bribing your fat ass,” Connor smirked, his claws moving to gently scratch the canine behind his large, fuzzy ears.


It had been a long couple of hours but Felix finally sat down at his desk to consult his diary, hoping against hope that he didn’t have many admin tasks scribbled down for the evening. His plans for a relaxing reflection had dissipated rapidly upon finding the interlopers in his apartment. What followed was a miserable takeout, a good deal of scrubbing tumeric stains and writing an extensive grocery list of pantry replacements. But he’d decided that buying new spices and condiments was a small price to pay for coming out of a burglary with nothing valuable stolen and no physical harm. What he hadn’t yet fully processed was the fact that two more people, other Variants no less, also now knew his secret. Even more bizarre was the fact that one of them had given him his phone number in what had initially seemed to be a flirtation.

The young teacher flicked open his diary and saw that he only had one item listed that demanded his attention this evening and groaned.



Understandably (given his evening so far), he had completely forgotten that he’d been asked to follow up with Connor’s mother after the event witnessed at lunchtime. All he needed to do was call her up, let her know what happened so she could be sure her son was alright and that he, and the school, would follow procedures and continue to support Connor in anyway they could. It was a standard enough conversation that he’d had before whenever one of his students had encountered bullying.

5minutes later, he’d logged onto the school system remotely and accessed the contact details for Claire Everest. He sat back in his chair as the dial tone rang, his eyes were distracted by the crumpled post-it stuck over today’s date in his diary.


An ever-repeated struggle in getting Cerberus to wear his harness left Connor out of breath, and out of shape. It was no surprise, naturally. The boy was about as physically inclined as a bedridden sickling. In a way, the comparison wasn’t too ludicrous. Connor’s abilities took a toll on his body, and leaving the teenager perpetually fatigued to a certain extent was simply something he could not escape. No matter the hours spent training, nor the copious amount of food he could ingest, he would remain the same for an eternity to come. A scrawny figure, whose skin glowed ever so dimly in response to darkness. He had yet to learn this fact, but it would come, in time. The one resource Connor had far too much of, and a pain he had not grown to understand. Not yet.

”Huh?” The Variant wiped his forehead, raven eyes turning towards a sudden intrusion of noise. Their telephone was ringing. He gently placed a hand atop its shape, and brought the archaic device to his pointed ear. Claire and Connor had considered getting rid of that thing. Few still retained their landline, and cellphones had long since overtaken the market. ”Hello?” The Variant spoke, a leash still dangling from clawed digits, and yet to be used.

It was uncommon to be contacted in this fashion, as the house phone had claimed the role of decoration, more so than anything. Despite this, Connor felt the unfamiliar sensation of a plastic device against his skin, waiting for a voice to trickle through those small, prickled dots in its shape.


Felix was momentarily disarmed hearing Connor’s voice at the end of the phone and not his mother’s. Of course! She worked at the hospital. A nurse he seemed to recall. She may still be at work - especially after last night’s events. But it was still worth an ask.

”Oh hi Connor, it’s Mr Pernass,” he replied, ”Is there any chance I could have a quick word with your mom?”

If the boy said no, well he’d just pop Mrs Everest an email and head to bed. His head had started to pound slightly and he was still itching at the non-existent cut on his palm.


A day full of unexpected events, with some less surprising tidbits sprinkled onto the hours now morphed into a quiet evening. This Tuesday was one Connor would remember, for better or worse. Did it all accumulate with Mr. Pernass’ voice flowing through a barely used landline? ”O-oh, hey, Mr. Pernass..,” the Variant spoke, his voice faltering for a brief moment, before he collected himself. Had he done something wrong? No, Connor never engaged in conflict, even though he sometimes wished for the nerves to do so. Then, why was his teacher calling, and much more, seeking the boy’s mother? ”She’s at work,” Connor informed, softly lowering himself to the armrest separating a larger sofa from the Variant’s frame. ”Is there.., anything I can help with?” The teen continued, his fingers absentmindedly combing their way through Cerberus’ fur, where the large canine approached, still eager to head outside.


He always hated when a student picked up the call instead of their parents. He remembered the feeling of panic himself all too well, even if the call were actually of a celebratory nature. ”Oh no that’s alright, I’ll try her at work.” he assured the teen.

He paused before his goodbye, to double check that that little shit Luke Hemmings hadn’t said or done anything else warranting concern. ”Are you ok this evening? Anything else happen this afternoon worth chatting about?”


Raising a brow, Connor considered what his teacher said. Yes, a lot of things had happened. He had been used as a scapegoat for murder, he helped Chris Redfield escape a hospital, he likely damaged the man’s relationship with a very distrought sister, and now he was going to walk his dog and pretend like nothing of note happened. Clenching his teeth, the boy felt a sense of frustration washing over him. It was unexpected, to say the least. Why on earth did he feel.., angry? ”I’m..,” Connor tried, his voice yet again cracking, ”yeah..,” the boy lied. He seldom ever did. In fact, he could not recall the last time he spoke a blatant lie. Connor wasn’t okay, but blaming what had transpired in the cafeteria for this turmoil would be disingenuous.

There was no simple answer. He was angry because people were dead, he was sad because others were afraid of him, and he was frustrated because he was unable to maintain a stable string of emotions. They bounced back and forth like a rubber ball. The moment all of this faded into the background, he found himself smiling, but once thoughts of reality glaring him down returned, he felt a massive sting boring itself into his chest. ”I’m okay, Mr. Pernass,” Connor lied, again.

How far could a Variant be pushed before falling off the deep end? How long did it take before someone completely snapped? When did the intoxication of destruction overtake a fragile mind? Clenching his teeth, Connor found himself trembling. No, there was no easy answer, no way to pinpoint the source of his unidentifiable mixture of emotions. ”Thanks for checking in on me, Mr. Pernass..,” the teenager spoke, a sense of fatigue gripping every word, ”but I’m..,” Connor paused, his claws moving from Cerberus to the armrest he was sitting on, where they dug into the fabric. ”Okay..,” the boy finished. ”Have a nice evening, Mr. Pernass...”
In Pariah → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



Location
New Haven State Hospital.

Interactions
Connor, and Sebastian.

Time
Evening.


Though the melancholy expression on Connor’s visage revealed a less than sublime experience, his treck through a hospital riddled with the unfortunate victims of a catastrophe put his situation into perspective. Indeed, the boy was cursed for his nature, but the stage he now found himself on spoke of actual suffering. No mean words, or false accusations, but rather, ripped limbs and torn spirits. Gripping the strap of his shoulder bag, Connor’s obsidian gaze traced itself across a lobby of murmurs, and tears. A Variant caused this, all of it. A Variant was the reason for so many eyes fixing themselves on the ‘Monster’ upon his entrance into a filled hospital.

Tensing, Connor’s sharp teeth clenched at the thought. It was just like back at school, as if he was in that cafeteria all over again. ”I’m here to..,” the boy tried, speaking to a receptionist with the occasional glance spared those accompanying him. ”Mom works here, Claire Everest,” he continued, ”I brought her dinner,” the teenaged Variant finished, raising a paper bag into view of the clerk.

“Do you know which floor she works on?” A question arose, clearly indicating that the receptionist was a new addition. Connor was not a person easily forgotten, his appearance and presence offering a more memorable repertoire than most.

”Yeah, the ER,” Connor informed.

“Alright, you know your way around, then,” the receptionist stated, her fingers dancing across a keyboard, “it’s pretty hectic right now, so you will have to excuse the stress.”

”Yeah..,” the Variant returned, a quiet mention before he started towards a constantly moving elevator. Little more than a single button-press brought him closer to the boy’s mother, but with every consecutive step, the aftermath of what had transpired in Midtown made itself very clear.

Stephanie sat in the nurse’s lounge to take a quick breather between patients. She had thought that transferring from the ICU to the ER would be a nice break from the constant pressure of managing patients in critical condition, but then the city fell apart and those hopes were dashed. She stared into space and tried to and tried to remain steady, absently smoothing the thin fabric of her scrub bottoms against her thighs.

The past two days had been the most tumultuous emotional roller coaster of her life. She was still trying to process the events of her brother being wheeled into the ER barely alive, and sitting with him on the recovery ward yesterday still felt like a dream. That gut-wrenching feeling of watching his motionless body get pushed passed her, while she screamed hysterically, returned to her full force as she replayed it in her mind. Stephanie knew that he had started working with a new department in the FBI, but he never talked about the specifics of his job. She figured he was just helping catch criminals, flashing a badge around in a suit and tie just like in the movies. And during the couple of times she had met his friends, telling them to take care of him had been more in teasing than out of real worry.

They were the scariest thing she had ever seen come through those ER doors, wearing all of that gear and armed to the teeth, and looking like they had just been through hell. Was that the reality Sebastian faced every day? She could not wrap her head around him being part of such a team. The memories she had of her brother were of a kind man with a good heart, not a dangerous killer. At the edge of her mind was the realization that in the many years he had been away, Stephanie could not remember a time that she actually knew what he was doing other than serving his country.

Trying to make sense of all of this, and thinking of what it meant for him after he was out of recovery, upset her all over again.

Stephanie had not noticed the entity appear in the door of the nurse’s lounge at first. However, she finally caught the shape out of the corner of her eye and involuntarily looked in that direction. The sight before her was confusing, but at first she didn’t know why. It was a boy, though as the seconds past it became obvious that it was no normal boy at all. He was pale, whiter than Stephanie had ever seen, and he was peering at her through black, pupil-less eyes that were unnaturally large. He was carrying a paper bag, but it was not gripped by human fingers but by black claws that resembled spikes.

Stephanie stood slowly, unable to look away from the boy’s unnatural eyes. She was the only one in the room, and she did not think that he could have possibly come to see her. She pulled her two long, light brown braids over one shoulder and fidgeted with them nervously.

“Hi,” she managed to stammer out. “Are you
 lost? Or
 can I help you?”

Those white walls accompanying a sterile interior had elevated themselves to a second home for the young Variant. He could still recall his earlier days, where he at times waited for his mother to end her shift, all the while killing time in the employee lounge. Six years had passed since that development, and many of the nurses had moved on to other venues throughout the years. The few who still recognized Connor’s presence afforded the boy tender smiles, in between hurried movements.
It was heavily contrasted, however, once the ‘Monster’ had stepped into a less hectic location. Though scarce in decoration, and with humble furniture, the employee lounge was designed to allow for safety, and a moment’s breath. Beyond a single door loomed a battlefield, a buffet for the Grim Reaper. ”Ah, hey,” Connor spoke, his obsidian orbs meeting a young woman who was clearly a new addition to the floor. At the very least, it seemed like the New Haven State Hospital was acquiring more staff, and it took little to realize that the healthcare system was critically underfunded. There was a time when Connor himself considered following in his mother’s footsteps, but a simple gaze across those clawed digits would quickly dispell the notion. He was not built for this, literally. The Variant would sooner cut someone, than aid them in their plight.

”I’m Connor,” the boy spoke, raising his hand to offer a faint wave. She appeared tired, and somewhat disheveled, this young woman who otherwise displayed a pretty visage. She had been through the grinder, more so than many of the other nurses, which was evident from a moment’s consideration. ”My mom works here,” Connor continued, ”Claire Everest, she’s.., been here for a while,” came a quiet chuckle, the boy’s ghostly voice trickling past his pale lips affording a mixture of his teenaged self, and something else entirely. ”I brought her dinner,” Connor revealed, his claws clicking against the fridge handle before he pulled it open to slip the hard-working woman’s food into its confines, before closing it shut. The act, in itself, exposed his familiarity with the locale. ”Maybe I should have brought some for you, too,” Connor joked, his shark-like teeth laid bare before a playful grin. ”You look pretty beat up, are you okay?”

Stephanie managed a nervous smile when Conner introduced himself. He mentioned that the senior-most ER nurse, Claire, was his mother, and by the way he seemed right at home in the nurse’s lounge Stephanie suspected that he visited often. The unearthly nature of his voice as he spoke was unsettling, and somewhere in the back of her mind the word ‘Variant’ seemed to give her pause, more out of curiosity than anything else. She remained outwardly neutral, though, so as not to offend him.

“Oh, I know Claire,” Stephanie told him. “I’ve been working with her for a week now.”
She watched Conner put his mother’s dinner in the refrigerator and smiled sweetly as he mentioned that he should have brought her some as well. “I appreciate the thought,” she offered.

But ‘beat up’? The comment had taken a moment to sink in. Stephanie shifted around self-consciously. She supposed she probably did look quite a mess. Her eyes were puffy and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. The weariness and emotional strain likely made her look as much like a zombie as she felt. At least she had the mental wherewithal to grab the appropriate sized scrub top today, unlike yesterday, when she had been trying frantically to stuff herself into an extra small and had a complete nervous breakdown when she couldn’t pull it over her. Claire had had to calm her down and hand her another top.

“Your mom is actually on another floor with my brother,” Stephanie told Conner. She clenched her jaw at the thought of Sebastian and everything that had happened, but she was determined to keep some semblance of a smile on her face. “She’s making sure all the charting was transferred. He got
 hurt.”

Claire had told her to stay off the recovery ward while she was on shift. There were other people who needed help, after all, and she needed to stay focused on her job. Stephanie pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her scrubs and looked at the time (even though she was wearing a watch). She had a few minutes to spare and a perfectly acceptable excuse to go see him now.

“I can take you there, if you want,” Stephanie said smiling and hoping that she did not seem overly eager. “I’m sure she would love to see you, and you can tell her that dinner is waiting.”

Another family member confined to the walls of a crowded hospital. Connor’s heart sank into a pit in his stomach at the mention, and his unnatural eyes lowered themselves to the floor in regret. Not everyone had found themselves on the surface of a medical bed due to Subject Seven’s attack, but considering Stephanie’s composure and her obvious discomfort, acceptance of the situation had yet to sink in. As had been established, Connor had very few skills, and fewer abilities he could consider useful, but the young painter was perceptive. This nurse had been through a lot, and behind those black, unnerving orbs resting above Connor’s small nose, sympathy was abundant. A single Variant had caused the chaos which now echoed through the New Haven State Hospital, and several terrified expressions meeting him from unfortunate patients were not lost on the boy.

”I’m.., really sorry,” Connor began, his claws quietly fiddling with one another as the teenager attempted to think of what else he could say to perhaps ease the situation. Naturally, there was nothing he could manage which would even dent the misery spread throughout. Today, he had been blamed for this whole disaster, because as far as Connor could tell, he was the only visible Variant in the immediate area. Of course, there were others. One of them destroyed a massive part of Midtown. However, it appeared far more common for Variants to present themselves as completely human, where Connor would sooner fit into a fictional setting. ”Sure,” the boy forced a smile, his clawed digits moving towards the strap of his shoulder bag, which they proceeded to gently grip. ”I’d appreciate it, uhm.., if it’s no bother,” he tried. Bringing a Variant to someone who had, presumably, been hurt by recent events, could backfire drastically. However, this nurse didn’t seem to mind Connor’s nature. Indeed, his appearance came as an unexpected addition to anyone viewing him for the first time, which he held against no one. Though, so far, Stephanie, who remained unnamed, had been polite and courteous, despite obvious distress. If she was ever interested in what this specific Variant could do, New Haven State Hospital was where the teenager had been registered, and his information was clearly available, more so than in any other institution. Connor was aware that if she decided to have a look at his documents, the next time she saw him, her forced comfort would likely crumble. He could be the source of this chaos, just as much as Subject Seven, and he was certain that such a glaring fact would be held against him more than once.

”I’ll stick close to you,” Connor stated, before placing a hand on the doorknob, ”I don’t want to scare any of the others,” he finished with a small chuckle, but there was no jest in his statement.

The first thing Sebastian noticed when his visitors arrived was his sister’s smile brighten up the entire room as she came through the door. He met her gaze evenly, but only for a moment. With all of the sedative and pain medication finally out of his system, he was himself again. Sebastian was back in reality, where he didn’t deserve the way such a smile from her made him feel. He knew she had a million questions that she was too afraid to ask. He knew that even if she asked them, he wouldn’t want to tell her the answers. And so he averted his gaze from Stephanie’s beautiful face, and instead regarded the second thing he had noticed.

A Variant had come in with her. He took in every detail of the scene unfolding in the room with total scrutiny. It was a boy. He heard the nurse who had been working on the computer in his room call him Conner. It was her son. He had brought her dinner and had met Stephanie in the employee lounge of the ER, who had then brought him to see his mom.

In his mind, Sebastian rapidly rifled through dozens of Variant profiles that he had memorized, the SRHRT ‘hot list’ of those Variants that needed to be taken down on sight and with extreme prejudice. Short, ghostly white, claws for hands, unnaturally large and black eyes- none of it matched the description of any Variant on the list. He considered that N.O.V.A. may have him categorized in their database, but he didn’t care what they thought.

His intuitive nature took over when the technical evaluation was done, and he realized that the boy, Conner, was clearly not a threat. In fact, he seemed more afraid of the people there than they were of him. Sebastian noticed the way the other staff looked at him. He noticed that it made Conner uncomfortable.

This was something they had in common at that very moment.

He looked at Stephanie again, but she had stepped over to the other side of the room and was in the middle of a conversation with the nurse who had been checking his chart, Claire, the Variant boy’s mom. It sounded like his sister was being admonished for coming to his room again. He shook his head. He couldn’t keep inconveniencing everyone like this.

Not only that, but there was work to be done, injuries be damned.

He looked Conner again, who was waiting politely for his mother to finish her conversation. Sebastian decided that it was refreshing to make contact with a Variant that didn’t involve him having to shoot at it. There was true evil in the world, both Variant and human. However, there was also true innocence among them all. This was the other side of the story that he always reminded his team never to never forget.

“Hey,” he called discretely to the boy to start a plan in motion. He gestured with his head for him to come nearer. He did, though he was very precautious.

“Conner, right?” Sebastian said quietly. “You know, I noticed that you’re not a real big fan of this place. I’m not either, if I’m honest. To crowded. And the people? Can’t stand them. Present company excluded, of course.” He nodded toward his sister and Conner’s mother.

He didn’t have much experience talking with young people, but he was trying to be relatable and get Conner to relax a little, so he turned the next part into a little game for them.

“So here’s the deal,” he said directing Conner’s gaze toward his hand. Sebastian was holding all of the wires from his telemetry device, which he had disconnected, and the catheter from his IV, which he had removed himself.

“What do you say, you want to help me bust out of here?” he asked with a friendly wink.

”Hey,” Connor offered, his clawed hand rising in a friendly wave, the boy revealing a small grin in unison. Someone who wasn’t afraid of him? That made a handful, at this point, but it was always a refreshing addition. Sebastian was the man’s name, and his athletic, clearly battle-hardened frame confessed to an active life-style. Throughout Connor’s young existence, he had learned a miniscule amount about bodily damage, and basic life support from his mother. Nothing to actually consider a useful skill, but enough to pinpoint a vague assessment of a man’s injuries. Sebastian hadn’t fallen down the stairs. That much was obvious. ”It was.., nicer..,” Connor answered, ”before Midtown was attacked,” he proceeded with a short sigh, the teenager’s unearthly voice trickling past a blanket of quiet noise filling Sebastian’s room.

Managing a slight grin, Connor’s sharp teeth revealed themselves along with the silent chuckle soon following, ”I kinda’ expected you to bail, the first chance you got, Chris Redfield,” the teenager finished. He enjoyed video games as much as the next kid, and this man gave off very specific vibes.

Connor turned his attention towards his mother and Stephanie who both left the room following a short exchange. Not enough nurses, far too many patients. Most would feel sorry for them, and Connor most definitely did. He couldn’t recall the last time his mother was home long enough for a movie night, or game session. With a slight breath, Connor was unable to hide that growing smirk on his face. Warm-hearted, polite, and laid-back, indeed, but he was still a teenager, and it would be foolish to write out mischief from the Variant’s repertoire of desires. ”Fine..,” the boy feigned exasperation, a dainty, clawed hand extended to help Sebastian from his bed. ”But if we get caught..,” Connor stated, mimicking the man’s playful wink, ”I’m your hostage.”

“You kidding me?” Sebastian said taking the boy’s clawed hand carefully when the two nurses had left. “I’m going to tell them the whole thing was your idea.”

He wasn’t sure why Conner had called him Chris, but it was of little consequence. With Conner’s help Sebastian got to his feet. He almost toppled forward on his unsteady legs, but he forced himself to stay on his feet. He gritted his teeth with an audible grunt of pain and his hand went to his side where the bandages were holding him together. But Sebastian had suffered similar wounds in environments much less hospitable than a recovery ward, and lived.

And he wasn’t about to stop now.

“Let’s move,” he said, and it felt good to hear himself give the command; he was still in the game.

They made their way to the door. Sebastian leaned out to clear both sides of the hallway as if he were about to lead a stacked team down a corridor full of hostile combatants. Nobody paid him much mind. Nurses didn’t care about any patients except their own.

They both walked out together and made their way to the nurse’s station.

“Mr. Albright, you shouldn’t be-“ the charge nurse started to say.

“Give me an AMA form and my patient bag, please,” he interrupted her as politely as he could, expertly concealing any amount of pain he felt from showing on his face or in his voice.

“I don’t think-“

“Just do it,” he interrupted again not so politely, and the look in his eyes withered away from the woman any further resistance she may have wanted to give him.

As she got up to comply, however, there came a frantic voice from behind them.

“Sebastian, what are you doing!?”

It was Stephanie. She rushed the nurse’s station, dividing her attention between her brother and the charge nurse. “What do you mean AMA, have you – do NOT give him that- have you done this before or something?”

“Get the form,” he told the nurse who was looking at them wide-eyed and confused. Then, to his sister: “Hospital’s aren’t really my thing. Got work to do.”

“Work!? You have a few stitches between you and bleeding out, you can’t possibly-!”

“I’m not staying,” he told Stephanie harshly. “This?” He held his hands away from his body to let her see the bandaged surgical site. “This is what I do. There’s a lot of people here who get to live normal lives, and feel sorry for themselves when they get the sniffles or stub a toe. You should probably go see if any of them need a glass of water or a nice warm blankie while they lay in bed wasting taxpayer money.”

The look on Stephanie’s face and the tears that rolled down it broke Sebastian’s heart, and he knew that he had just pushed away the only thing he still cared about. But he couldn’t let himself remain her burden. What was done was done.

“Fine,” she whispered, and disappeared down the hall crying into her hands.

“Just sign me out, or whatever you people do,” Sebastian told the charge nurse. “I’m out of here.”

He turned to Conner. “Shall we?” he said and began dragging himself toward the elevator still dressed in his hospital pajama bottoms.

The tough guy was also an asshole. That wasn’t unique, nor completely unexpected, though Connor knew better than to get in between Stephanie and her brother. There was clearly far more beneath the surface, and Connor would require time, and insight for that to be revealed. After all, people were like paintings, and every brush stroke was a purpose, a desire.., or a regret. Lowering his obsidian gaze to the floor, the teenager, maintained his silence. Even if a stranger’s interjection was welcomed, this was most certainly not the place for that. Equally so, he wouldn’t have been taken seriously, especially not by Sebastian.

Did Connor agree? In a way, yes. Some people didn’t have the luxury of feeling sorry for themselves, because a moment’s doubt could very well lead to another’s demise. However, the way this was handled could be compared to furious strokes across an already torn canvas.

The teenager followed along, seeing how elevator doors slid to a close after they were encased by the metal box. Naturally, only one floor would suffice, the entrance. ”Soldier,” Connor guessed, and correctly so. ”No-Bullshit attitude, nerves of steel..,” the boy spoke as they waited for those doors to open, once more. ”Duty above your health..,” Connor continued, his claws gently clicking against the metallic wall of which he leaned against, ”you’re a soldier,” the teen stated, an assessment, more so than a question. Sebastian’s body surely helped in the assumption. ”I’ll have outlived my usefulness as a resource in about.., ” the Variant paused, considering a thought, ”five minutes,” he mused. ”What’ll happen, then?” Tilting his head, Connor studied the older, battle-scarred male. Indeed, the teen was unlike most. He was quirky like few, and the Variant’s ability to simply go with the flow was evident. He didn’t seem troubled, or stressed, but rather curious. Recent events had caused discomfort, without a doubt, but his core state of being was yet to be damaged. ”Am I the annoying kid, pestering the hero, right now..?” Connor asked, a question aimed mostly at himself as a dainty claw rose to gently tap his chin. ”Damn. I don’t want to be a cliche,” he sighed.

Whatever Sebastian was considering would leave him in far worse shape, that much was obvious. He could barely stand, and those stitches resting beneath bandages begging to be displaced would likely tear, and he’d find himself in the middle of conflict again, before the day’s end. That’s how these things went in the movies, and sometimes, fiction reflected reality in perfect detail. ”Ah, right, I didn’t scare you,” Connor noted, tracking back towards his previous statements, ”another point to the ‘Soldier’ persona,” came a playful, sharp-toothed grin. ”N.O.V.A? Mh.., no,” he shook his head, eyes narrowed, ”they’re all mysterious and agent-y,” a word he had made up, but it certainly worked. ”Army? It’s the army, right?” Connor finally decided, just as those elevator doors opened to allow for a long awaited exit.

The elevator doors closed. Sebastian hated himself for how he had talked to his beloved sister. But he knew he would hate himself even more if she got close and hated what she found there. It was an act of mercy for both of them, by his estimation. Maybe when the world was a safer place, maybe when he was a better person, she would understand and forgive him. As much progress as he had made in turning his world perspective around, Sebastian realized that he still didn’t know who the hell he was.

Conner had said a bunch of stuff, he just realized, and began reconstructing the words in his mind that he had been too lost in thought to hear the first time. His comments about having a no-bullshit attitude and nerves of steel struck a dull chord of humor somewhere inside him. He certainly would not have described himself like that. He was just a guy trying to do the right thing.

“You’re not annoying me,” he started out with. “Thanks for being my accomplice. You’re not a resource, you’re now an ally. There’s a big difference. Maybe you understand that.”

He sighed. “What you saw back there, with my sister; it’s complicated. I know it probably makes me look like a bad guy.”

He looked at the boy, hoping that Conner could possibly understand the remorse he felt for talking to Stephanie in such a way, that he didn’t truly believe the patients in that hospital were a waste of time or money. He had dedicated his life to protecting them and every other citizen. The words were meant to serve a purpose, and they had succeeded. Other than his sister Sebastian did not care one bit what anyone thought of him, but for some reason being on the receiving end of Conner’s judgment was unbearable. He represented everything he existed to protect. The feeling he had was something to the effect of, if he had failed in Conner’s eyes, he had failed completely.

But it was what it was.

“Good eye, though” Sebastian said taking a deep (and painful) breath and trying hard to sound nonchalant. “I’m definitely not N.O.V.A.” He wasn’t about recount his service history in an elevator, however. It was just too long and difficult of a story.

“I was in the Army, once,” he said simply. “In another life. FBI, now. Part of a special team that deals with Variant trouble makers. But, if I’m honest, most of the problems we’ve had have been with good ‘ol fashioned humans.”

His eyes flashed darkly as the events leading up to his hospitalization, and subsequently him meeting Conner, replayed in his mind. She had been a little younger than Conner, he guessed. It occurred to him with no lingering doubt that he would have done the same thing if it had been Conner in that office instead.

The elevator doors opened on the ground floor and they walked through the lobby, drawing all manner of looks from the people they passed, until they were outside.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian told him as they stood in the chilly air. “If you want to help an old soldier out, now that we’re allies, do me a favor. When you come to see your mom here, check up on Stephanie for me. I’m the last person she’s going to want to hear from for awhile. And if you ever need anything, you can call me. I’ll come running.”

He tried to smile, but it just wouldn’t come out.

He looked at his bare torso and feet. “Oh, and one more thing; can I use your phone?”

An ally. It most certainly sounded better than ‘resource’, even though the statement was somewhat odd. Connor had never thought of that statement in reference to himself, or anyone. Ally, it was rather official, and reserved for situations of conflict. However, there was something else which quickly confiscated the boy’s attention. ‘Variant Troublemakers’. At the mention, Connor paused, his posture visibly faltering, if only for a brief moment. If Connor ever took leave of his sanity, someone like Sebastian would come for him. Someone battle-hardened and with a finger ready on the trigger. Yes, it was supposed to be like that. Variants were far too unpredictable and blatantly dangerous. The world needed order, and such critical organization was hindered by emotional turmoil. Though the boy wanted to answer, there was little he could offer in regards to the statement, while walking a half-naked man out of a hospital. It was an interesting discussion, however, one Connor had considered many times, in the past.

Time was not left wanting before Sebastian and his accomplice felt an evening sun gently blanketing their frames. One of them clearly found it less comfortable than the other. ”Here,” the boy stated, handing his phone to a battle-hardened soldier he never before expected to come across. A single call introduced the upcoming waiting game, where Sebastian’s friend eventually arrived in a car to spirit the wounded soldier away.

”Sebastian,” a ghostly voice trickled through the evening air, obsidian eyes meeting the soldier’s, as he entered the car. ”I’ll check up on your sister when I visit mom,” he began, a short pause lingering before the teen continued, ”but I don’t think you’ll ever convince yourself..,” the Variant stated, his expression unwavering. ”You’ll always be the first person she wants to hear from,” a tender smile crossed the boy’s slender lips, ”because you’re her brother, and you always will be.” It was a powerful statement, one which Connor was unsure accompanied appreciation. However, with a soft wave in the direction of Sebastian’s ride, the boy started on a straight path home.
In Welcome To The Family: An anime inspired modern fantasy → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@Lunarlord34

I currently have a character in the other RP I am participating in, and I thought that his powers would be fun to translate into Magic, rather than a mutation which is the setting in that RP.

I'd export my character from that RP to this one, and get another feel for the whole concept. Naturally, the character would need to be edited properly to fit.
In Welcome To The Family: An anime inspired modern fantasy → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks
When I get home, I may tinker on a character for this. I have one in mind.
In Pariah → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Location
💀 Havenworth High.

Interactions
💀 None.

Time
💀 Lunchtime.


Dragging his pencil across a previously blank page in rapid succession, Connor was breathing life into the image he had started drawing soon after arriving at school. As per expectation, other students were far more wary of the teenaged Variant than before. Stares had intensified, and avoiding the ‘Monster’ was a commodity. Connor did not blame the other students, for their acts were founded in emotion, and a desire to exclude an obvious enemy, as far as their conviction went. A flow of tears which made itself known throughout the day indicated that more than one other attendant at Havenworth High had family in Midtown, blood relatives now either faded into memory, or struggling for their lives at the state hospital.

Moving his slender hand towards the burger in front of him, resting on the same tray Connor had seen every weekday, his sharp teeth dug into its shape with ease. Consistency was something often lost on the Variant, or little ‘Monster’ as he had christened himself. His inhuman teeth allowed for meat to offer little more resistance than bread. Admitting towards the displeasure of such was uncommon, but present. “Hey, freak!” A voice, loud and tentatively obnoxious trickled into Connor’s pointed ears, soon after he returned the burger to where it had previously sat.

It would be foolish to claim that this scene didn’t warrant attention from the rest of the school cafeteria, but as a pair of obsidian eyes rose to meet the angry gaze of Luke Hemmings, the resident school ‘bully’, Connor understood that this interaction had few varying outcomes.

”Yes, Luke?” The Variant returned, closing his sketchbook and slipped the leather-bound item into his shoulder bag. A continuation of his newest project would need to wait. That much had grown abundantly obvious.

“Remind me again why they let you in here?” Came a question that brought a clear question-mark to the Variant it had been aimed at. Connor had expected Luke to spout profanities, but nothing quite like this.

”What do you mean?” The ‘Monster’ asked in return, raising a thin, barely visible brow.

“Oh fuck you, Connor! You know exactly what I mean!” Luke shouted. There was pain in his voice, more so than anger. Pain, and hatred. Though Connor would admit that very few things affected him, this had proven to be one of those rare exceptions. He found himself clenching his teeth, those large, black eyes lowering to the wooden table where he was sitting. “They keep letting you freaks hang around humans, and when something happens, we’re the ones who get hurt!” It was a statement founded in regret, and misery. However, Luke was not completely wrong, though calling it ‘correct’ would have been an overstatement.

”I didn’t attack Midtown, Luke,” Connor frowned, his eyes moving to meet the saddened glare. It was making itself known that Connor appeared unsure, throughout the interaction, his thoughts set on what he had seen on that television screen. A myriad of people had died because one Variant decided to give in to madness.

“Does it fucking matter!?” Another loud exclamation made its way past Luke’s quivering lips. Never before had he appeared this vulnerable, and devastated. “What happens when you decide to go apeshit, huh? Are you going to kill us all!?”

”Wh-what? Come on, dude..,” Connor tried, stuttering in his statement. He had expected this, but he was far from prepared to face a scolding of this level.

“You can’t even say one fucking word without it sounding like you want to off us all,” Luke spat, pointing out the Variant’s ghostly voice. “Two of my cousins were killed in Midtown yesterday!” The revelation warranted tension now traveling through Connor’s frame. He had no counter to that. “How the fuck can we spend several hours here every day, knowing that if you decide to snap, we’re all dead!?”

It would be a lie to say that using his powers wasn’t intoxicating. Connor knew, better than anyone in that cafeteria, how utterly fantastic it felt to unleash his abilities. It was almost a drug, something which made him want more. It felt like breathing for the very first time. He could still recall it, the exhilaration flowing through him as Necrotic Force danced free. It was a horrifying thought, and giving in to madness was not as outrageously impossible as most Variants wanted to convince themselves of.

Without another word, Connor stood and started on a straight path out of the cafeteria. How could he convince anyone of his innocence when his very existence was the accusation? This wasn’t simply others judging him. He was being blamed for a massive atrocity, and it was only a matter of time before someone decided to take the next step.
In Pariah → 6 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Location
💀 Warehouse District - Connor’s Home.

Interactions
💀 None.

Time
💀 Early Morning.


The sizzling of fried eggs was accompanied by a small yawn from the creature half-heartedly holding onto a spatula, occasionally intruding with the development of a soon finished breakfast. ”Mom got home really late yesterday,” Connor spoke, his attention on Cerberus whose grey gaze was transfixed on the sizzling meal belonging to someone else, entirely. Though an adorable, and fearsome to some, canine, one required the ability to ignore those large, puppy dog eyes pleading for more than they required. Such was the way of a domesticated beast. They had grown complacent. In regards to Cerberus, the alternative was a deterrent. If Connor and his mother Claire had not decided to take the beast in, he would have passed on a street corner long ago, forgotten and faded into obscurity. A true death, indeed, where not even memories persisted.

Sliding the eggs from their previously cozy warmth, to a plate complete with slices of cucumber and tomato, Connor moved the pan he had been using and made sure to turn the heat off. He had forgotten once before, and it was a mistake had learned from, dearly. ”Let’s see what’s on the news,” came another yawn from the Variant, his petite frame dispelling the distance between the kitchen and a comfortable sofa, his bare, clawed feet clicking against the floor with every step.

As was a common, repeated scene, Connor sat with his canine companion, the fuzzy beast’s presence a warm, loving addition to any time of day. It helped, being dressed in little more than a tank-top and boxers, however, as Cerberus’ fur acted as blanket against Connor’s exposed, pale shape. ”Just more debates,” the Variant sighed, biting into a forkful of eggs and cucumber. It would be foolish to dismiss these shared conversations, as their resolution could very well shape the state of America. After what happened, an already fragile truce between Variants and humans had grown exponentially weaker. ”At least human-looking Monsters will be able to get through this easily, enough,” the boy stated, biting into another bout of eggs and vegetables. It shifted his thoughts towards his teacher, Felix Pernass. He seemed quite melancholy through parts of their interaction, and while Connor resented the notion of assumptions, it would be reasonable to regard a less than stellar past. Variants were treated with distrust or hatred in many parts of the states, and considering Mr. Pernass’ apprehension of being exposed as a ‘Monster’, the conclusion was easy enough to draw.

Finishing his meal, Connor exhaled a long sigh in response to events unfolding upon the surface of their television screen. The day would likely result in constant talk about what had transpired last night. He wasn’t looking forward to school, but there was little else he could do, than get dressed and head out. ”I love you, Cerberus,” Connor spoke, placing a kiss on the Wolf Dog’s snout, following his preparation with pants, a sweater, and socks. His shoulder bag soon found home across his chest, and the converse shoes on his feet dotted the final sequence in this morning ritual. ”Don’t wake mom, alright? She’s had a rough night,” the Variant stated, scratching his beloved friend behind a large, pointed ear. ”See you later, buddy, be good,” Connor resolved, opening the door in a path to school. Not a day he was looking forward to, but one he needed to face.
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