ThisIsFine

HEROIC

Good news kids! I finally found a superhero app to replace heromachine (rip) and as such I have designed Wraith a slightly less tacky but no more colorful costume! See his bio for details

HEROIC

The ID badge and other crap can be in the safe perhaps 🤔

HEROIC

Joel Beck
Location: No longer on the floor
Tags: Grim, Bouncer, Ghost Bullshit™

Had Joel not been in an incredibly embarrassing and vulnerable position, he probably would have pushed the other hero away. But he was, and oddly, whatever Grim was doing kind of helped. Joel's heart slowly stopped pounding in his ears, and his breathing returned to normal. He lifted his head, his expression still uneasy. The things he had just seen would haunt him well after the spirits were put to rest.

"I thought this was some kind of human trafficking thing," He said softly, but his voice steady, "But then I found that medical equipment, and I thought organ harvesting..." He paused to take another deep breath and let it out. Joel clutched the desk beside him and slowly pulled himself back onto his feet. His legs were still shaking under him. "Whatever this is, it's so much worse. They...they were tortured to death. And they don't know why." He raised a hand to hold his head as if it was hurting him. All those voices were still ringing in his ears.

His dark eyes scanned the room again. The other two couldn't see the hoard of empty eyes staring right back at them. "Can one of you, very calmly, tell me where it's hidden." A young boy stepped forward, and Joel clenched his fists. A child. A fucking child. He did his best not to let his anger show, lest he frighten the young soul. The boy lifted a silvery finger and pointed to a spot of patched up wallpaper across the room. The apartment had been filled with pitiful patch jobs; this one would have gone completely unnoticed.

Joel released the desk and walked slowly over to the wall. He dug his nails under the square of wallpaper and tore it off in one pull. Behind it, embedded in the wall, was a locked safe. Joel blinked at it, then turned back to the other two living beings in this room. "I don't suppose either of you have safe opening powers?"

HEROIC

@druidquest You got a post in the works?

HEROIC

Aight, so our kiddos will find the clues and plan a meetup the next night, then dip. The clues are gonna be: a stack of Polaroids, a dozen or so bracelets, a scribbled down address, and an employee ID badge for a hospital. Wraith's gonna snatch the bracelets and photos for ghost reasons, and yall can fight over who gets the other two clues. What they ultimately lead to is at your discretion, the general theme being mad scientist experiments and shit

HEROIC

Oh @King Cosmos, did you wanna post again or did you wanna ride it out until the next night?

I figure once the gang is done bumblefucking around in that apartment, we can skip to the next night

HEROIC

Blazy, you alive bud?

HEROIC

I didn't realize until this morning that I accidentally skipped you, sorry fam

HEROIC

Joel Beck
Location: Mental breakdown town
Tags: Grim, Kitsune, Bouncer

"It's a little late for Easter," Wraith said dryly at the reappearance of the rabbit girl. She seemed to be upset, and accusatory. He didn't pay her much mind, however; searching this mess would take hours and he didn't feel like spending it engaged in petty arguments.

"Maybe we did," He said noncommittally, knowing damn well that Devon had likely been gone before they'd even gotten there. He had time to round up his pitiful protection detail, two of whom were still bleeding out in the street. The others? Who cared. The only one still at large that posed any kind of significant threat was that weird mind guy. Wraith paused his rummaging as the feeling of the cold hand reaching into his head replayed. What a creep.

He mostly ignored the other two while he went about pawing through drawers and cabinets for something, anything, relevant to the case. As he flipped through an old CD holder (mostly filled with shitty mix tapes), a soft whisper drew his attention. Wraith turned to look at the other two. No, that hadn't been them. His eyes drifted to the spare bedroom, which looked as though it had been set up as an office.

Wraith walked in. The room was dark, save for the dull light streaming in through the doorway. He caught sight of a small desk lamp and turned it on, then glanced around.

"Yeah?" He said into the empty room, "You got something to tell me? Go ahead, I'm all ears."

He would soon regret those words.

They came at him like a tidal wave, crashing into him and pulling him down. Pain, fear, sorrow, loathing. He was drowning in their final thoughts and emotions. He was trapped. He was burning up. He was freezing cold. He was being cut over and over. Being stabbed, ripped, dismembered. A bright light was blinding him, a small, dark room held him hostage. Hundreds and hundreds of unrested souls, all in agony, all wanting to be saved.

Wraith didn't feel the floor coming up to meet him, but at some point, he managed to crawl until he found a wall and hunkered against it: something solid to keep him grounded. "STOP!" He pleaded. He could feel their deaths, he was reliving each and every last second before their bodies gave up and parted with them. "STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE! I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!"

Instantly, the room was silent again. Or rather, was silent still. The only sound had been Wraith, pleading an invisible antagonist for mercy.

His breath tore out of his chest in heaves. He was covered in a cold sweat. Wraith reached up and tore his mask off of his face. It was too much. All of it was too much. His eyes were wide with unadulterated panic. The urge to give in and let that panic control him was almost too strong, but he couldn't do it; not when all those lost souls were counting on him. There was something in this room that they had attached themselves to, and he needed to find it.

Joel pushed himself into a sitting position with his legs pulled into his chest. He pressed his forehead into his knees and closed his eyes, then took several deep breaths. His therapist had taught him this technique to counter these panic attacks.

"Geez kid, you look like shit."

"Not now, Doug," Joel spoke softly, exhausted.

He knew the ghost was right, though. He'd been putting himself through the wringer recently between the near nightly fights and constant patrols. The perpetual bags under his eyes were a deep purple, and he sported a collection of old bruises and scars. He hadn't shaved in several days. His dark hair was a sweaty mess, sparsely flecked with white that hadn't been there only a few years ago. If the insomnia didn't kill him, this job surely would.

HEROIC

@druidquest You got a post in the works?