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Found 4 results

  1. Real Name: Oneca Isabel Bahaar Nicknames: Demona, Lilith, 'Neca Occupations: Mutant High School Student Legal Status: American Citizen, minor. Aliases: Demona, Lilith, DarkFlame (all 'net handles) Place of birth: Los Angeles, CA Age: 16 Marital Status: Single, dating Warren Verona. Known Relatives: Mother (Scandanavian, Asa's fleshing her out as she's ported over from Jason's backstory, she's already a Valkyrie-like Superhero), Father (Rahim Bahaar), older sister (Sonja Bahaar), little sister (deceased, Saja Bahaar) Group Affiliation: None so far. Mutant Expression: Attempting to summon a demon to fetch the spirit of her dead sister. Height: 5 feet 7 inches Weight: 126lbs. Eyes: Tawny Gold Hair: Black Distinguishing Marks: Intricate vine tattoo over her face and down the left side of her body. Strength Level: Low-end superhuman. Known Powers: Destruction, flight. Abilities/Special Skills: Goth angst. Weapons Used: Sarcasm, hands. Personality: Gothier-than-thou. Personal Interests: Poetry, mythology, Morticia Adams. ,, Oneca is the middle child and youngest surviving child of the Bahaar family. Her father is a wealthy banker that married a Scandanavian super-hero; her elder brother became her elder sister a few years ago and was sent off to the mutant school in upstate New York. Her younger sister Saja died from injuries and exposure after sneaking out of the house when she was supposed to be down for a nap when she was about 6. Her parents have always felt guilty over the death, but Oneca took it the hardest and became obsessed with finding a way to contact her dead sibling. As she became a teen, this morphed into an obsession with the goth culture and magick (because with a 'k', it's real!). She triggered as a mutant last Winter Solstice while trying to summon a demon to go fetch the spirit of her sister while her parents were at a Christmas party. Her powers have morphed through her somewhat twisted view of the world and reflect demonic powers. ,, She has shown the ability to destroy items with a controlled brimstone-smelling fire, although she doesn't seem to be able to control fire itself. She has the ability to fly, most likely inherited from her mother as is her well above human level of strength, though it is on the weaker end of the mutant scale. During initial testing she also once ripped through brick and wood using only her hands; there were burn marks left on the material. The triggering also greatly enhanced her body, though save for the strength only to the limits of human possibility instead of beyond; she also manifested a vine-like tattoo over her face and down the left side of her body. When questioned about it she merely stated that it was a mark of 'favor', whatever that means. She is being observed at the school for any other powers, as a psychological profile shows that she could be prone to abuse of more subtle mutant abilities. ,, Character Sheet Attributes: STR: 3 DEX: 3 STA: 4 (Tenacious) PER: 3 INT: 4 (Pragmatic) WIT: 3 APP: 5 (Exotic) MAN: 4 (Devious) CHA: 4 (Alluring) Abilities - Might: Brawl: Throwing: Artillery: Awareness: 1 Investigation: 1 Navigation: Disguise: Intimidation: 1 Style: 2 Archery: Athletics: 2 Drive: Firearms: Gunnery: Heavy Weapons: Ledgerdemain: 1 Martial Arts: 1 Melee: Pilot: Ride: Stealth: 1 Academics: 1 Bureaucracy: Computer: 2 Demolitions: Engineering: Gambling: Intrusion: Linguistics: 1 (Latin) Medicine: 1 Science: Survival: Tradecraft: Diplomacy: Hypnosis: Interrogation: Seduction: 1 Streetwise: 1 Subterfuge: 1 Endurance: 3 Resistance: 3 Arts: 1 Biz: Mediation: Rapport: Shadowing: Tactics: Weave: Animal Training: Carousing: 1 Command: Etiquette: 1 Instruction: Performance: 1 Backgrounds - Allies: 1 (Father, rich banker) Attunement: 1 Backing: Cipher: Contacts: 1 Dormancy: Equipment: Eufiber: Favors: Followers: 4 (Two girls from the school - Rachel (goes by Raven) and Lily (goes by Lilith)) Influence: Mentor: 3 (Warren, bonuses congruent with skills from living on the streets and knowledge/unlocking of power) Genome: 5 Rank: Resources: 1 (allowance) Uniform: 12 (Nanofluidic, 4/5/3, 10% minimum cover) Willpower: 4 Focus: 4 Soak: 9B/ 7L/ 0A Healing Rate: 5x Mega-Attributes: M-STR: 1 (Thrower) Quantum Powers: Flight - 3 Entropy Control - 2 (Bioentropy Storm, Probability Corruption) Claws - 3 Merits & Flaws: Sexy - 1 pt Merit Nightsight - 3 pt Merit Lusty - 1 pt Flaw Obsession - 2 pt Flaw (Ghosts/Death/Evil) Addiction - 1 pt Flaw (Nicotine) ,, Logs FB's - 5 in Attributes, 2 in Willpower, 8 in Backgrounds PP's - 15 in Focus 9 in Quantum Powers (5 for Entropy Control, 3 for Flight, 1 for Claws) 3 in Mega-Attributes 3 in Attributes (9 Attribute points) XP Log: +108 (108) - January 2013 XP backlog - 30 (78) - Uniform 1-5 - 6 (72) - Flight 2 - 6 (66) - Claws 2 - 14 (52) - Entropy 2 (Probability Corruption) - 18 (34) - Flight 3 - 18 (16) - Claws 3 + 5 (21) - Bonus XP from Four Hours in Hell
  2. February 9, 2012 August jerked into sudden wakefulness, blinking at the sunlight-bathed wall opposite her bed. Green eyes rolled wearily upward and she groaned and shut them again when she saw it was seven in the morning. Why the hell was she up at this hour? A second later, the culprit identified itself with a muted buzz. It was her cell phone, buried under yesterday's jeans. Mumbling curses at the caller, August fished out the offending machine. "What?" she snarled as soon as she'd thumbed it open. "August, are you alright?" The sheer concern in Madeline's voice removed August's anger. "Yeah, I was asleep," the brunette said, sitting upright and pulling her knees to her chest. She hadn't meant to put so much emphasis on that word. "Oh, what time is it? Eight, which means its seven for you. Oh, hon, I'm sorry," Madeline said apologetically. "I just woke up and immediately called you." "Alright... apology accepted," August said, aware that she was being way too nice but too well socialized to stop herself. "Now, why did you call?" "I think I had a bad dream," Madeline said. "It must have been. A ghost was warning me that you were in danger." August swallowed. She'd seen ghosts here and there; it'd gotten better for her once she'd accepted them. They'd ignored her for the most part and she'd ignored them. It had worked well for her to this point. The thought that it might change soon was disheartening and terrifying. Why couldn't they leave her alone? "But you think... it's a dream?" Madeline paused. "I think so. I was asleep and usually ghosts only contact me when they're awake." "Alright, so a bad dream," August said. Her phone beeped and she pulled it away from her ear enough to see that she had a call from Remy. "Madeline, Remy's calling. I should take this." Even if I don't want to take it. "Just be careful, please," the older woman said, the relief that had been in her voice being replaced by worry. "Ask him to call me as soon as he's done with you." "I will, bye!" August said and switched over to catch Peter. "Hey, there. What's up?" "August, I need some help," Remy said with little preamble. "I have some associates who have gone missing. They were filming a haunting in a mental asylum - one of those reality show things - and have all gone missing. Given the setting, this calls for your particular talents." "Wait, you want me to go into a haunted asylum?!" August barked, her green eyes growing wide. "Do you think I'm dumb or suicidal?" "There are people missing," Remy said with quiet intensity. "They may not have been the smartest people, but they were decent. Jack's got a little girl and a wife. Duke's his mother's only living child. Renee is a film student at the Academy of Art. Neil's -" "Stop it," August sighed. "I get the idea. Tell me everything you know." "The show is called Grave Encounters," Remy said immediately. August could hear the relief in his voice. "They were filming their seventh episode. The usual pattern is that they get locked in the haunted area overnight. The caretaker was supposed to come back and let them out in the morning. When he opened the door, he found some of their equipment in the lobby but no people. He hollared for them but became upset when he saw one of the lights was broken. You know the big lights?" "Yeah, I'm a film student," August reminded him. "Those are pricey." "The caretaker was concerned by this," Remy told her. "So he called me." "Why you?" "Because he was instructed to do so," Remy replied. "If there were any problems, he was to call me immediately. It will be another twelve hours before we can file a missing persons report and I fear for their safety if we wait that long." "So you want to go now," August sighed. She could call Declan and ask him to go with her so she wouldn't be alone. Thank god this was a Saturday and he had the day off. They'd planned to go hiking up into the mountains together. Not as a date. No, no... just two friends hiking together for the day. "Hey, Dec, I know we were supposed to go kick about in nature today. How about hunting down idiots in a haunted asylum instead?" "Yes and I need a medium." He didn't see her wince; she hated that term. It made her sound hokey, and she wasn't comfortable with having that label applied to her. "I've got two other people going with me..." His voice trailed off into a sigh. "And if I don't include Oneca, she'll set me on fire." Shit... August wasn't sure if Declan would be alright working with other people. She knew what he was and that was awkward enough. More people knowing wouldn't please him. "Uh, I had plans, but I'll cancel them." "Thank you, I appreciate that," Remy said sincerely. "I'll be by to pick you up in thirty minutes." "Right. See you," August sighed as she hung up. She immediately called Declan, sure that unlike her he would actually be up at this ungodly hour. He was much better then her about maintaining a 'normal' schedule, ironically. "Hey, you," she said, smiling involuntarily as he answered. "Sorry to call so early, but something's come up. I wanted to yet you know that I have to cancel on you sooner rather than later. Maybe we can go tomorrow?"
  3. Sunday, August 21st Kaitlin puttered around the house, an ice-pack strapped to her left ankle. It had been two weeks since she had moved in with Oneca, August, and Aradia - and Satan - and she was both relieved and chagrined that the issue of rent hadn't come up yet. She still had some (dwindling) savings though, so she was able to buy most of her own food and contribute to the household larder. Which she was happy to do, since there wasn't as much meat in their diet as she preferred, and the other girls found out Kaitlin was also actually a pretty decent cook. It didn't stop mentions of her carnivorous appetites, but Kaitlin didn't apologize for them either. An active girl, Kaitlin spent a lot of time outside - sometimes even looking for a job she could tolerate between idly eying the rich homes in the neighborhood for easy opportunities of wealth equalization actions. She would have been today as well, except she had sprained her ankle yesterday when a loose roof-shingle had slipped out from underfoot. It wasn't that she couldn't fight against the pain when she had to, but like more freerunners, she was conscientious about exacerbating a minor injury into a more major or long-lasting one. Which didn't mean she wasn't disappointed. She had had the idea of trying to find out where in and around LA MTV's Ultimate Parkour was being filmed and she didn't want to find it while driving her rust-bucket Camry or not being in top condition to show the stars what she could do. So, instead, Kaitlin wandered around the luxurious house, seeing what she had overlooked before. There were quite a few books on the various shelves and in the study, which made sense, since the other four girls were all in college. She sighed with bitter melancholy. She wasn't all that interested in more years of school, but she was pretty sure her athletic scholarship to UNLV was going to be a lost and she wouldn't be able to afford college otherwise. Not without a serious score, at least. She cocked her head to the side, a finger tracing the bindings of the books, only now really noticing the titles. These weren't sciency or arty textbooks. They were about the supernatural and occult! Just fiction - of course, they had to be - but maybe they were based on the real thing, from way back when. Kaitlin glanced over her shoulders, self-consciously making sure nobody was watching her, then pulled the heavy hardcover Encyclopedia of Vampires, Werewolves, and Other Monsters from the shelf. She hobbled over to the couch, flopped down onto the plush cushions with her legs thrown over the side and propped the book on her chest, leafing through the pages, looking for a heading on powers and weaknesses... Gonna need silver. Stupid silver! It gives me a rash.
  4. {Saturday, 13th August, 2011} Adanedhel finished his preparations and sat back on the throw-pillow, looking at the tools spread out before him. Tonight was the night! A full moon, when the gateway between the worlds was at it's narrowest. After tonight, he wouldn't be Evan Nelson anymore. Poor sad Evan, with his greasy hair and coke-bottle-lens glasses, would fall away from the shining truth of his soul like a husk, and only Adanedhel would remain. It had taken so much work. The labour of months, years even, ever since Adanedhel had realised his true identity whilst attending a Lord of the Rings LARP in San Diego. The way his peers had marvelled at his grasp of Qenya, at how melodically and fluidly he had spoken it. He had read them poems he'd crafted in the ancient tongue, and they'd applauded, and the lady playing Galadriel (who'd looked much more lovely and ethereal than the woman who'd played the role in the movies, but Adanedhel still considered Cate Blanchett as very fitting for the role) had kissed him on the cheek and told him he had a truly Elvish soul. An Elvish soul! Of course he did - it made perfect sense now! His whole life had been one of loneliness at best, torment at worst among the brutish, unrefined herd of humanity that had been his lot. His father had called him a faggot for wanting to study poetry and literature, and his mother had just fretted and sighed that her son was a dreamer. Of course he was a dreamer! Who wouldn't want to dream of something better than this inelegant, mundane pigsty. Well, tonight that would be over. No more dreaming. It had taken him a while to find the right rituals, pieced together from fragments of so-called 'Satanic' texts, truths hidden in 'fiction' and even some passages of the Bible! The truth was indeed there to be found, if one but wanted badly enough to perceive it. He picked up the knife and examined it carefully. It was perfect, a shining steel blade with silver Qenya runes etched into the blade near the hilt. It was a reproduction Elven dagger, but the runes were Adanedhel's own addition, signifying transformation and new life from death. He was proud of the work. He set it back onto the cloth roll with the rope and ceremonial robes. Outside in the van was the final component for the ritual - a tormented but pure soul who needed to be released into the grace of the Valar, who would receive her and in the process grant Evan his release from this ugly, frail mortal shell. He'd watched her for weeks. She was a film student, and she was beautiful and good at heart, but tormented. He'd followed her on her visits to her doctor, seen her leave with troubled expressions on her face. He'd watched closely as she seemed to recoil at things that were not there. Poor fragile soul. He knew that he was doing her a kindness, and that she would be better off in the afterlife. Earlier this evening he'd caught her as she'd come out of the doctor's again, taking her by surprise and pressing the chloroformed pad to her face. She'd gone limp almost immediately, and he'd dragged her to the van. Before she woke, he would have to change her into the simple-yet-lovely Elven gown he'd bought for the occasion of her escape from this horrible life. He looked at his clock: a half hour till midnight - time to go. He gathered up his robes, the gown, the rope and the knife, and left his shoddy, shitty little apartment for the last time. It was a full moon, a bright night despite the permanent haze that hung over L.A in late summer. Owns-The-Night was enjoying the night air in one of his favorite lazing-spots, a dense thicket of trees and bushes near the girl's dorm. There were other reasons besides the cover that he liked that spot. He was looking at two of them now. The vargr may not have been a gentleman, but he knew what he liked. Besides, the night was quiet, all the pimps and dealers seemed to be indoors or doing business well away from the campus, so really what better use was there for his time than to watch young women flitting around their dorm rooms naked but for a pair of panties. The freshman drew her curtains, ending the peepshow, and the huge wolf whuffed softly under his breath and flowed to his feet with a grace eerie in an animal so unnaturally large, shaking himself lightly before heading off on another round of his territory. He moved with uncanny silence and stealth, barely seeming to disturb the gloom between the trees as he ghosted past two young lovers walking along a path, holding hands and talking about the movie they'd seen. The humans never had a clue he was there, and beyond the ring of light thrown by the lamps lining the path, silver eyes watched them with a sense of proprietary satisfaction. They could walk aboard safely because of him, and that was worth all the work of the last eighteen months. This campus, and the blocks surrounding it, were his, and he guaranteed safety to the inoffensive and death to the intruder with equal fervor. Vampires, drug dealers - it was all the same to him. No-one fucked with this place unless they wanted a faceful of vargr. That was something to be proud of. He was moving with a steady, ground-eating trot along the western rim of the UCLA campus near the graveyard when the wind shifted, blowing from the west now rather than the north, and carrying a familiar scent to his nostrils. August, and she wasn't far away either. The vargr's head tilted as he considered that. She must be across the street, and that meant she was in the cemetary. What the hell was she doing there at night? Junkies and bums sometimes crashed there, and whilst it wasn't a terrible place to wander and think, it wasn't exactly safe after midnight on a Saturday. With a low puzzled growl in his chest, Owns-The-Night waited for the road to be clear before bounding across, clearing the wall in one leap.
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