WaywardK

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Amidst the chaos of the recent fight within the room, a young man clad in a fur coat had ended up being thrown from his cot to the floor amidst several ghoulish looking dead bodies that had also been knocked over. Compared to the thrashing and wailing of the other, newly turned hunters, the body of the Greywood heir was relatively quiet. He had squirmed somewhat, and if you listened real close you may have heard a faint whimper, but he was uncharacteristically calmer than others. To the waking world that may have come across as strange, or a bad sign. However, if you were to peer into his dream you’d understand why.

Yarrow couldn’t move. In his nightmare he was a corpse. His body laid up against a stone alleyway in a sitting position. He was in another country, far from Yarnham. Next to him, and all along the wall in front of him as well, were other corpses in various stages of decay. The sight of corpses had never really bothered Yarrow, nor the scent, and survivor of the blood moon would be fairly used to the sight. Nor had the smell, for that matter, as the thick, sweet smell of incense could often cover it easily if you burned the right quantity. No, the most important factor in this situation were their faces, the faces of his family.

Yarrow’s nightmare felt like hours, years even. The corpses around him decayed, bloated, crawled with vermin, and he couldn’t close his eyes. Yarrow watched on in abject horror as his mother’s body shriveled, his father’s body eaten away by maggots till only half his face had been left. His grandparents, his cousins, his nieces and nephews… Yarrow could only watch them. He lost track of time, his nightmare lasting eternities. Time had slowed for him, it almost stopped. He was denied the thrill of life, the joy of pursuit. Yarrow was forced to live through, to internalize, and finally face the emotions. He had the time to break, his mind shattered, if his heart had still been beating it would’ve stopped. His mind collapsed upon itself in this hell… and yet the nightmare proceeded unabated.

Eventually, in this long nightmare, his mind came back. Yarrow was exhausted, his will to live almost gone, but he was trapped in limbo. In a long eternity of nothingness until finally his family was nothing but dusty bones. Then, for the first time since he came here, something changed. A shadow sprawled across the alleyway, vaguely human. Yarrow began to hear a soft crying. He could not turn his head to look, he could not stand and move, he could only listen and wait.

The shadow grew larger, the crying became louder, and Yarrow could recognize the voice… the voice of a lover he’d rather regret. Once again, he could feel his now-fragile mind begin to crack. If he was alive in this dream he’d have hyperventilated, or possibly screamed. His soul was on fire with fear as the creature making the shadow finally shambled into vision.

It was a humanoid, yes. It was ashy and grey, like a corpse, shriveled even. It looked bloodless, exsanguinated, but it still walked. Yarrow could tell it was meant to be his lost love, but it was twisted, disgusting, disturbingly genderless. It bent down to look him in the eyes. Their own eyes were nothing but hollowed out sockets. It moved closer to Yarrow. Yarrow could see its arms, slit from wrist to elbow. An inky black ichor leaked from the wounds. Thick like oil, it smelled like pus. Yarrow wanted to disappear. He could not stand to see this abomination. In the waking world Yarrow began to thrash amidst the other dead in the clinic, it hyperventilated.

What was once Yarrow’s love began to wail, slowly its hands reached forward for Yarrow’s hands. “You couldn’t protect me!” it screamed, sounding strangled. “You couldn’t protect them!” it said, referring to his family. The walking corpse grabbed his hands, squeezing hard as if to crack bones. Seemingly ignited by contact, the abomination was suddenly lit aflame and fell back screaming curses. “You couldn’t even protect yourself! Look at you! You’re not a man Yarrow! You’re a walking corpse! You have never had a life of your own! You are a black pit of despair and loathing!” Its words were like lashes to his soul. Deep in his chest he finally found breath in this hell of a nightmare.

Yarrow’s bones surged with flesh, he was no longer a corpse, he was awakening to purpose, to fight. Messengers appeared from the ground and from the alley walls. They shambled towards Yarrow. Some lifted at his arms, he could feel them surge from the ground to push him. The spark of life finally came to him in his dream and he screamed. It was bestial, guttural, and carried all his despair. He surged to his feet in the dream, crying out at the flaming abomination before him.

Yarrow awoke from his nightmare on his feet, screaming at a wall. Around his feet were corpses and those that were still dreaming, he could see others still on their cots, and an open door. He was full of adrenaline, every breath deep and labored. His blood seemed to burn in a way it had never before. Every inch of his body felt new, like he had been reborn. The cracks that had formed in his mind during the nightmare seemed to have disappeared, his control being restored seemed to offer some sort of stability he had not had in that blasted eternity.

Yarrow’s sanity seemingly restored, he calmed himself, slowing his breathing, looking to the door, believing someone was just on the other side. He straightened his back and popped his neck, gathering his bearings quickly, and hid his anguish with a quickness that would be unnatural to most. Anyone who would have been able to notice the change in his appearance would likely be perturbed, had they not had experience as a merchant prior of course. Such control over one’s dignity was second nature for those with his upbringing. If only you could see his soul, you would see how twisted he remained.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

It's quite all right, it was more for what impact it could possibly have on how others reacted to him... but it seems like pretty much any socialite in Yharnam might have a chance of being familiar and/or acquainted with Yarrow. I will keep that in mind for future encounters.

Anyway, I see no reason not to accept your character anymore. I'll go ahead and add it to the list in the OP, and you are free to introduce Yarrow IC at your leisure.

The conditions for his awakening will be thus: he will awaken in the room described in the very first IC post (either on a cot or sprawled on the floor, your choice), only the room appears to have recently been used as a battlefield. Several dead bodies lie among the hibernating people, including a "large huntsman" (enemy type taken straight from the game) with a broken neck. Cots (possibly including Yarrow's own) have been knocked over, blood and intestines have been scattered over a portion of the room, and the single door has been smashed to bits. He will also be hearing voices beyond that door.
And, of course, he will be seeing crowds of Messengers surrounding the sleeping Hunters, including a small crowd curiously examining himself.

@Dark Jack

Aww sweet! Now to proceed to get a Bowblade or Reiterpallasch style weapon.

Edit: I stayed up long enough to completely get caught up and read most of the posts, will post tomorrow.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Yarrow Greywood

Race: (False) Paleblood

Appearance:
Yarrow is imposing in stature but soft in smile. He has acquired a rather unsettling aura, in which you are unsure whether you should be calmed by or scared of his presence. He is neither overly comely or homely, occupying an odd space of attractiveness that differs from person to person. Seemingly on theme, his body type is neither overly muscular, fat, or thin. One could say he’s painfully average, but he doesn’t blend well into crowds despite this.

Yarrow is most notable characterized by a bald head and a goatee with a particularly bearded chin, accentuated by his narrow, almost rodent-like, facial structure. His eyes are of a pale blue, almost green, and seem to glow in contrast to his somewhat ashen, sallow skin tone. His nose is rather large and round, but the contrast to his otherwise narrow facial features seems to make its proportions more balanced than it is. It should be noted his eyebrows are thick and somewhat bushy, giving way to very readable facial expressions.
Proportionally, nothing of Yarrow’s body stands out compared to anything else. That being said, once could say he was thick-boned. His chest is barreled but his musculature and weight make it difficult to distinguish, with thick, but not muscularly-defined, arms and legs. His body-type lends him natural strength and fortitude.

Yarrow’s final distinguishing feature is the size of his hands. Proportional to his size, but wide palmed and long fingered. His hands appear delicate like a musician or artist, but their size affords a deceiving amount of strength. His nails are painted black, with the ring finger on his right hand painted white. If asked about this, he would ignore the question, but in such a way it is obvious a sore part of his history is buried in the practice of this aesthetic choice.

Height: 6’1”
Weight: 250 lbs

Clothes:
Yarrow is dressed like most newly-initiated hunters with a an imposing black garb faintly reminiscent of civilian clothes and fitted close to his form but with enough range of motion to practice the impressive acrobatics of some hunters. The main difference is his coat is lined with fur focused mostly around the collar in a burst of flamboyance that trails down the edges. Most hunters forgo fur as the aesthetic is always ruined by splashes of blood drying and matting the hairs. Yarrow seems unbothered that this will happen as he hunts, seemingly comforted by the presence of furs regardless of their state.

Personality:
Despite his appearance being otherwise average, Yarrow’s personality is nothing but. Yarrow is borderline eccentric. He looks for the unnoticed attributes in his surroundings, and revels in “little wonders” such as the movements of ants or plant-life appearing in stone where conditions would normally discourage rooting. He’s keen to pick up on small ticks others have in their conversations, and sometimes even be bothered by excessive, dramatic movements in facial features.

If one were to start a conversation on the nature of gravel, he would be oddly interested and unable to put down the conversation. “The small details are the building blocks of our grand architects” he likes to say, referring to gods and men alike. While fully able to grasp the big picture, Yarrow will always favor the small details. He is meticulous in his curiosity.

The false paleblood will often disregard social convention for honesty and wield truth like a hammer against clandestine motives and actions. Sometimes it can seem like he doesn’t even understand social cues in the first place, whether true or not is yet to be determined. If Yarrow ever feels deceived, he can become vindictive and hyper focused.

In states of anger, aggression, or bloodlust, Yarrow can begin to seem deranged or unhinged. This is less because of mental infortitude and comes from a place of pride in his strength. Shows of brute savagery are his favored tactic, quickly overwhelming opponents were possible.

Background:
Yarrow was born in Yarnham and has lived in the city much of his life. He has lived through countless hunts in his family’s residence, one of the first built since the razing of old Yarnham. The Greywoods are a wealthy group of merchants who have long procured materials for hunters of all types. Neutral to the different hunter factions, every workshop has at one point purchased materials from the Greywoods. To keep from drawing ire from hunters, the Greywoods have long abstained from partaking in blood outside of when necessary. That is to say, only a handful of people attached to the family are true Yarnhamites. Abstaining limits the appearance of the plague of beasts in the family, protecting them from suspicion.

This of course, has lead to more deaths among the Greywoods than other families. Unable to recover without use of the blood, many Greywoods die from otherwise curable diseases. To ensure the survival of the family the younger generations are encouraged to visit other lands to find wives and husbands. If not for the perceived need of neutral forces in wars and conflicts, the Greywoods would not have adopted these practices.

Being born into this family largely restricted Yarrow while growing up. He had to conduct himself politically, every action of his reflecting on the prestige and importance of his family. Every slight against the public could reflect negatively on business. Publicly voicing support for any single faction in the city could call for punishment. Unable to live unbound by convention, Yarrow turned inwards. While other boys played ball in the streets on good days or teased adults, Yarrow read books. While other boys grew into puberty and cemented their social circles, Yarrow helped his family map out the best routes to transport supplies from outside of Yarnham.

A week before the night of the Bloodmoon, Yarrow left Yarnham to another country to find a wife after his second cousin had died. The family had grown to small in the recent years and Yarrow was the only young adult who was ready to be married. His goal was purely political, to procure the affection of some miner’s daughter, a high standing merchant, or a Noble of influence. His family needed an infusion of wealth and status as the state of Yarnham otherwise began to decline the week prior to the Bloodmoon.

When Yarrow finally did find a lover, it was too late. Unbeknown to him, while he was away the great merchant family of the Greywoods finally fell to the roaming beasts during the Blood Moon. Though, he didn’t return to this news with a lover in turn. He was going to tell his family that he failed, and ran out of resources. The lover he had found was nobody of wealth or status. They had just been a life from the streets. Before Yarrow had left his lover for Yarnam, they also died. The doctors in the other country described it as a disease of the blood, born in their streets among the lowlifes.

When Yarrow had finally came back, it had been a month since his family had been slain. The city of Yarnham was about to begin selling off the estate piece by piece until it was discovered Yarrow was an heir. Yarrow seized control of the estate, hired workers to repair the damage done to the house on the night of the Blood Moon, and closed it to the public. He mourned privately for months after until he eventually became stricken with the same disease that killed his lover. It was at this point he left behind his family’s ideals and sought out the church to become a true yarnhamite in order to heal his disease.

In the 5 years since, Yarrow has come into his own, no longer bound to the ideals of his family. His family had wealth shut up in storage that he was able to live on in the meantime. Instead of finding a job he used this money to learn. He bought books, hired personal trainers, and went to parties. He crammed years of social and personal development he was denied by his family’s ideals into as short a time span as he could. He became known as the “Eccentric Heir of the Greywood name.” Eventually all that wealth dwindled away and Yarrow prepared himself to re-enter the workforce. This time not as a merchant, but a hunter.

Oddity: Yarrow has an unusually high blood tinge for a new hunter, the cause of which would appear to be unclear. As a trade off, he is much more prone to bloodlust than other hunters. As he grows as a hunter he will undoubtedly catch the attention of Hunters of Hunters, as well as Vilebloods, that watch him in the field.

As a rule (as much for you as for any future potential applicants that might by chance spot this post), at least in my RPs, if the first word in the tag-list under the RP title (also visible on the RP page itself by the words "Join status" says "Apply" rather than "Full", it is accepting new players.
Regardless, I'm happy to see interest so soon after posting in the Interest Check. Welcome!

Hmm... interesting. There's certainly something for me to work with on this character, which bodes well for how interesting its story will turn out in the long run. I only really have two points that I feel need clarification:

In the last paragraph of his background, you state that Yarrow discarded the ideals of the Greywoods and became a socialite, presumably trying to build relationships with some of the people he wasn't allowed to interact with before. Anyone in particular? Did he just get buddy-buddy with random (predominantly newly risen due to the Night of the Blood Moon) aristocrats, or do you imagine there's certain people he would have been more or less inclined to associate with? The easiest would obviously have been the Healing Church (specifically the White Church, since the Black Church isn't known for its social graces and doesn't waste their Hunters' time by having them attend parties), but I suppose he could have built other relations if he was cautious enough.

The other thing that needs clarification is the "race" being (False) Paleblood. You aren't the first one to write that, and I see how it can be confusing, so just bear with me for a moment. I use Paleblood about naturally occurring, "true" Paleblood. False Paleblood is the artificial imitation of the former. (False) Paleblood is a shorthand way of referring to both of these collectively. Using (false) Paleblood might be correct if there was doubt which one he was (though it wouldn't make much sense initially, when he'll (probably) still just think that he's an "ordinary" Hunter), but I would like it specified for your characters.
So long story short, please put the race as either Paleblood or false Paleblood.

Beyond that I don't think I have anything to interject.

@Dark Jack

Ack I knew there was something I probably got wrong, RPs with this much information always get something left out, went ahead and changed the False Paleblood, my apologies.

As for his social tendencies? Yarrow attended parties in order to gather worldly experience, and likely didn't care who was throwing the party; whether the church, aristocrats, or average citizens threw the party, he wouldn't have cared. Yarrow probably doesn't even remember a majority of the people he talks to at the parties. He could be best friends with someone at one party and the next day not even remember their name. He hasn't had genuine connection with other humans since he returned to Yarnham, and probably will have a hard time forming relationships. As alluded to his personality section, he cares little for social convention as well, and probably offended more people than he befriended. Speaking of his personality section, he'd likely have a lot of animosity with the church as he despises people who keep secrets, and it's obvious the church keeps a lot of them.

Edit: I would've elaborated upon that more in the character sheet but I felt I was already over-writing it xD
Edit x2 - Electric Boogaloo: I noticed in your edit that you mentioned that he became a hunter for profit, not treating a disease. I would like to point out that he did indeed originally take blood some years prior because of a bloodborne disease, though this one much more mundane, because he contracted it from his foreign lover. (What it was specifically, and who his lover were are unimportant for the roleplay, they're meant to remain a permanent mystery for the character, as who shares all their secrets in gothic horror anywho?)

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

I'm all for more players.

@Habibi359

Fear not! For I have arrived!

I had wanted to join this way back but saw how long ago it had been started and thought you guys might not be accepting. I'm currently reading over the information and am tentatively interested in. I'm not just interested in cosmic horror after all, I'm also a cosmic whore. (See what I did there? Yes? No?... Blame TikTok.)

Edit:
I made a character! I may have gone a bit overboard... lol I decided to differentiate him from the characters I've already seen by giving him an oddity/quirk related to the properties of his blood. If that was too much I'll remove it haha.

Yarrow Greywood

Race: False Paleblood

Appearance:
Yarrow is imposing in stature but soft in smile. He has acquired a rather unsettling aura, in which you are unsure whether you should be calmed by or scared of his presence. He is neither overly comely or homely, occupying an odd space of attractiveness that differs from person to person. Seemingly on theme, his body type is neither overly muscular, fat, or thin. One could say he’s painfully average, but he doesn’t blend well into crowds despite this.

Yarrow is most notable characterized by a bald head and a goatee with a particularly bearded chin, accentuated by his narrow, almost rodent-like, facial structure. His eyes are of a pale blue, almost green, and seem to glow in contrast to his somewhat ashen, sallow skin tone. His nose is rather large and round, but the contrast to his otherwise narrow facial features seems to make its proportions more balanced than it is. It should be noted his eyebrows are thick and somewhat bushy, giving way to very readable facial expressions.
Proportionally, nothing of Yarrow’s body stands out compared to anything else. That being said, once could say he was thick-boned. His chest is barreled but his musculature and weight make it difficult to distinguish, with thick, but not muscularly-defined, arms and legs. His body-type lends him natural strength and fortitude.

Yarrow’s final distinguishing feature is the size of his hands. Proportional to his size, but wide palmed and long fingered. His hands appear delicate like a musician or artist, but their size affords a deceiving amount of strength. His nails are painted black, with the ring finger on his right hand painted white. If asked about this, he would ignore the question, but in such a way it is obvious a sore part of his history is buried in the practice of this aesthetic choice.

Height: 6’1”
Weight: 250 lbs

Clothes:
Yarrow is dressed like most newly-initiated hunters with a an imposing black garb faintly reminiscent of civilian clothes and fitted close to his form but with enough range of motion to practice the impressive acrobatics of some hunters. The main difference is his coat is lined with fur focused mostly around the collar in a burst of flamboyance that trails down the edges. Most hunters forgo fur as the aesthetic is always ruined by splashes of blood drying and matting the hairs. Yarrow seems unbothered that this will happen as he hunts, seemingly comforted by the presence of furs regardless of their state.

Personality:
Despite his appearance being otherwise average, Yarrow’s personality is nothing but. Yarrow is borderline eccentric. He looks for the unnoticed attributes in his surroundings, and revels in “little wonders” such as the movements of ants or plant-life appearing in stone where conditions would normally discourage rooting. He’s keen to pick up on small ticks others have in their conversations, and sometimes even be bothered by excessive, dramatic movements in facial features.

If one were to start a conversation on the nature of gravel, he would be oddly interested and unable to put down the conversation. “The small details are the building blocks of our grand architects” he likes to say, referring to gods and men alike. While fully able to grasp the big picture, Yarrow will always favor the small details. He is meticulous in his curiosity.

The false paleblood will often disregard social convention for honesty and wield truth like a hammer against clandestine motives and actions. Sometimes it can seem like he doesn’t even understand social cues in the first place, whether true or not is yet to be determined. If Yarrow ever feels deceived, he can become vindictive and hyper focused.

In states of anger, aggression, or bloodlust, Yarrow can begin to seem deranged or unhinged. This is less because of mental infortitude and comes from a place of pride in his strength. Shows of brute savagery are his favored tactic, quickly overwhelming opponents were possible.

Background:
Yarrow was born in Yarnham and has lived in the city much of his life. He has lived through countless hunts in his family’s residence, one of the first built since the razing of old Yarnham. The Greywoods are a wealthy group of merchants who have long procured materials for hunters of all types. Neutral to the different hunter factions, every workshop has at one point purchased materials from the Greywoods. To keep from drawing ire from hunters, the Greywoods have long abstained from partaking in blood outside of when necessary. That is to say, only a handful of people attached to the family are true Yarnhamites. Abstaining limits the appearance of the plague of beasts in the family, protecting them from suspicion.

This of course, has lead to more deaths among the Greywoods than other families. Unable to recover without use of the blood, many Greywoods die from otherwise curable diseases. To ensure the survival of the family the younger generations are encouraged to visit other lands to find wives and husbands. If not for the perceived need of neutral forces in wars and conflicts, the Greywoods would not have adopted these practices.

Being born into this family largely restricted Yarrow while growing up. He had to conduct himself politically, every action of his reflecting on the prestige and importance of his family. Every slight against the public could reflect negatively on business. Publicly voicing support for any single faction in the city could call for punishment. Unable to live unbound by convention, Yarrow turned inwards. While other boys played ball in the streets on good days or teased adults, Yarrow read books. While other boys grew into puberty and cemented their social circles, Yarrow helped his family map out the best routes to transport supplies from outside of Yarnham.

A week before the night of the Bloodmoon, Yarrow left Yarnham to another country to find a wife after his second cousin had died. The family had grown to small in the recent years and Yarrow was the only young adult who was ready to be married. His goal was purely political, to procure the affection of some miner’s daughter, a high standing merchant, or a Noble of influence. His family needed an infusion of wealth and status as the state of Yarnham otherwise began to decline the week prior to the Bloodmoon.

When Yarrow finally did find a lover, it was too late. Unbeknown to him, while he was away the great merchant family of the Greywoods finally fell to the roaming beasts during the Blood Moon. Though, he didn’t return to this news with a lover in turn. He was going to tell his family that he failed, and ran out of resources. The lover he had found was nobody of wealth or status. They had just been a life from the streets. Before Yarrow had left his lover for Yarnam, they also died. The doctors in the other country described it as a disease of the blood, born in their streets among the lowlifes.

When Yarrow had finally came back, it had been a month since his family had been slain. The city of Yarnham was about to begin selling off the estate piece by piece until it was discovered Yarrow was an heir. Yarrow seized control of the estate, hired workers to repair the damage done to the house on the night of the Blood Moon, and closed it to the public. He mourned privately for months after until he eventually became stricken with the same disease that killed his lover. It was at this point he left behind his family’s ideals and sought out the church to become a true yarnhamite in order to heal his disease.

In the 5 years since, Yarrow has come into his own, no longer bound to the ideals of his family. His family had wealth shut up in storage that he was able to live on in the meantime. Instead of finding a job he used this money to learn. He bought books, hired personal trainers, and went to parties. He crammed years of social and personal development he was denied by his family’s ideals into as short a time span as he could. He became known as the “Eccentric Heir of the Greywood name.” Eventually all that wealth dwindled away and Yarrow prepared himself to re-enter the workforce. This time not as a merchant, but a hunter.

Oddity: Yarrow has an unusually high blood tinge for a new hunter, the cause of which would appear to be unclear. As a trade off, he is much more prone to bloodlust than other hunters. As he grows as a hunter he will undoubtedly catch the attention of Hunters of Hunters, as well as Vilebloods, that watch him in the field.

Kingdom's Fall: Fantasy RP where the Dark Lord has won

Honestly I'd personally enjoy creating some neutral antagonistic forces to the world such as a pseudo-sentient/haunted forest dividing two major towns/kingdoms or like a group of rogues that travel the countryside. Maybe even like drake colonies along certain mountain regions or giant sentient insects. Something to add to the fantasy and make the world feel more alive outside of the main plot. That and like... in LoTR they befriend the trees who would be otherwise neutral, so these neutral forces can be befriended or antagonized towards other currently existing factions :3

Personally I'd love a race of bug-like creatures with a Queen that has yet to provide support for other factions as of yet.

Kingdom's Fall: Fantasy RP where the Dark Lord has won

Hell ye finally a new, promising RP.

Task Force: Sentinel - Occult Covert Operations

Did.. did we die

Task Force: Sentinel - Occult Covert Operations

Not my best work but now e can carry on :)

Task Force: Sentinel - Occult Covert Operations

Jason was a bit out of sorts when he arrived on scene. He wasn't exactly the most sober. To most 3 AM was a Witching Hour, to Jason, despite being a witch himself, saw it as his bitchin' hour. The horrific things he saw on the job drove him to drink, and being the kind of person who makes friends with everyone at a bar sort of exacerbates that. He had been for sure he was going to have the following day off, but the supernatural hated being ignored it seemed. Some of those on the scene gave him side eyes as they smelled the alcohol on him. Used to such reactions by "professionals" he largely ignored it and just focused on being as sober as possible when he arrived.

The wreck itself was a sobering sight itself, whether that was a good or bad thing for him. The way it seemed ripped apart gave him some reservations, but he HAD seen worse. Bloodied dens of cultist with entrails stapled to walls, flesh literally melting off some shapeshifters, and roaming spirits from the underworld; often appearing how they died; that often carried messages from Hades when the god cared to pay attention to Jason. Whatever gore was at the end of this road wasn't going to be that terrible to him. Jason had gotten sidetracked with this thought, but it did lead to a decent avenue of investigation, one he was sure Sam was going to pursue in her own way.

Psychopomps of all kinds will be hanging around or leaving traces behind at scenes like these if someone died, and Jason wanted to be aware of their presence if they were here. Jason walked from the road to the wreckage, waving a hand and a smile at Clint on his way and taking inventory of how the other Sentinels were behaving. He walked up to the driver's side just after Sam had left it, nodding at her in case she noticed him. The driver's side was the best place to start if they had died, so Jason made sure nobody was paying too much attention and started his work.

Jason reached his left hand into a messenger bag that he had slung over his shoulder, a large brown-leather piece that every Sentinel knew to be curious about. He pulled out a small vial of some greyish paste made with a blend of mushrooms and laurel (bay) leaves and uncorked the archaicly-bottled concoction. He brought it to his lips and closed his eyes, blowing ever so quietly over the bottle before dumping part of the salve in his left palm before returning the salve to his bag. Jason then rubbed the salve into his fingers and then underneath is eyes, nose, and behind his ears. While the magic wouldn't give him the same specialty Sam had when it came to the dead and dying, it would allow him to become aware of the astral plane without having to necessarily enter it, which also meant he couldn't directly interact with it unless he used more magic. The purpose to this, of course, was that psychopomps travelled in the astral. Once the salve was applied correctly Jason let his chi reach out into the world around him, aided by his salve.

Meanwhile, overhead in the sky, dark as the knight sky and flying by the light of the moon, was Astra. Along with cats and dogs, crows were well known natural psychopomps. Since she noticed what Jason was doing, and be known she was very aware of what exactly he was doing, she had every intention on helping.

Task Force: Sentinel - Occult Covert Operations

Okay I should have my post up by Monday, I’m a weekend warrior cause I work from the same computer