Alaska

[font=georgia,serif][size=4]24 May 2015[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4][i]Somewhat near Phénix 2230[/i][/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] The engines screamed, pushed to the limit. Amongst the Berserkers there was an air of dutiful malaise; but they had to push on. As the headlights swung around a corner they illuminated a tall, lithe figure. Itâ??s skin scarred, pitted and grey. Its face contorted into a sinister smile and its eyes wide. Instantly, it began to hyperventilate in its anticipation of the coming confrontation. [/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??**** this.â? Oxt growled as he swung around the windshield and catapulted himself from the jeepâ??s hood. The transformation was instant. He jumped as a man, and under the light of the moon, he descended as a wolf. Oxt roared, his left claws outstretched while, with his other hand, reeling back his axe for a lethal blow. This would have all been just so, had the Nightmare not revealed long, razor-sharp knives where he used to have fingers. Fingers that dug cleanly into the warriorâ??s chest. Oxt was stunned for a moment, then gasped and twisted, pulling the Nightmareâ??s arm across its body. [/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] Then came the jeep. As the two struggled, Oxt turned the beast around and they crashed through the windshield. They rolled off the vehicle and, finally, Oxt came free. He collapsed to the ground and clasped his chest; the adrenaline surging through his system exacerbating the blood loss. The jeep skidded to a halt and Makt lunged for his brother. Meanwhile, Jinn had used her whip to strangle the life from the monster; and it now lay on the ground a smoldering carcass. [/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??Oxt! Dammit!â? Makt cursed as he surveyed the severity of his brotherâ??s wounds. The others came up and a weightless stream of water cascaded over the injured Berserker. Makt looked up confused, then saw Sobek drawing from her jar.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??Itâ??s not perfect. But I can create a makeshift bandage to slow the bleeding.â? Her words were heavy with concern. Makt nodded, and then he and Orin hoisted their comrade onto the back of a jeep. Neptune attempted to start the damaged one; and with a strenuous whine, and a great stroke of luck, it kicked on.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??Now, letâ??s get the hell out of here.â? He shouted. And the crew roared on into the night. [/size][/font] [center][font=georgia,serif][size=4]******[/size][/font][/center] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] Varg, now in wolf-form, had his claws locked through the fingers of one of the Pride Nightmares. With a surge of strength, he broke its hands and forced it to the ground. As it writhed in pain and fury, Varg heaved his spear through its throat. He had but a moment before his duplicate was upon him. The imperfect wolf-warrior imitation tackled him from his blind spot and they began to grapple on the ground. Varg couldnâ??t help but muse. How existential. His wry smile was reflected in the impostorâ??s large, black and empty eyes. He clamped his jaws around the Nightmareâ??s throat and jerked his head with all his might. It worked, and he felt the flesh give way. His foe whimpered, that was his window. Varg pushed the beast over and, standing above it, pummeled its face into a bloody pulp. [/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??You canâ??t beat the real thing, asshole.â? Varg grunted, he raised his foot and stomped on its neck. It now lay motionless. He straightened up and got his bearings. Near War lay a few mutilated corpses and a twisted body clad in crumpled and burnt armor that he took to be his Envy. Addley had used the kinetic energy she reaped from a Pride and was slashing it with her scimitar at a superhuman speed. Varg smirked, impressed. As the beast, clearly on the defensive, backed blindly towards him, the Wolf-Warrior delivered a spine-breaking punch. The Nightmare shuddered and fell limp. Vargâ??s sigh of relief was undetectable as War approached.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??Well, it appears we got through it alright.â? Varg offered. War looked at him for a moment, but the Berserker couldnâ??t read his expression from behind the helm. Addley stepped forward.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??We should move if we want the make it there in good time.â? She swept her head to the side, motioning to the jeep. The trio piled in.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??We should make it back to the foot of the mountain in about two hoursâ?? time.â? Varg began. â??But weâ??ll have to proceed on foot from there. The trails have long since become ill adapted for vehicles.â? With that he started the engine and they took off up the old highway.[/size][/font] [center][font=georgia,serif][size=4]******[/size][/font][/center] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] Makt was in wolf-form and rushing through the trees with his brother strapped to his back; Orin to his side. The three Mentals were close behind. Makt was increasingly frantic as Oxtâ??s breathing became fatigued and shallow. Crashing through the overgrowth he caught a familiar scent.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??Weâ??re close!â? He called to Orin, who leapt up into a tree.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??I can see the smoke from the chimneys.â? Orin called down to him as he descended. As they broke branch after branched, carving a train up the mountainside, the outer wall of Hlidskjalf came into view. They burst through the gateway but came to a sudden stop. There was nothing, no one around. Orinâ??s face grew pale as he realized the smoke heâ??d seen came not from the chimneys, but from the smoking remains of much of the architecture. The Mentals arrived only a moment later to see Makt had fallen to his knees.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??We were only gone for a few hours.â? He spoke softly.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??They mustâ??ve become overrun shortly after we left.â? Orin tried to piece together what had happened. They moved further into the village. The armory had been emptied and their hearts sank further as they found two bodies for their people. Makt couldnâ??t speak.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] â??It looks as if they defended while the others evacuated. First things first, we must bandage Oxt, then we can give them a proper burial.â? Orinâ??s voice was even and decisive.[/size][/font] [font=georgia,serif][size=4] The moon had set and they began their search for the remaining fallen in the darkness.[/size][/font] OOC: I will post a follw-up post to this. This is like part one, of a two-part thing.

[size=4][font=georgia,serif][i]24 May 2015[/i][/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif][i]Phénix, City Hall, 2200 Hours[/i][/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] At the very least, Vargâ??s demeanor could be described as apprehensive. The four large men had been situated in the reception of the Phénix City Hall and stripped of their weapons as a result of a safety precaution. Oxt shifted uncomfortably in his seat.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Iâ??m getting a bad vibe from this place. It seems so impersonal, mechanical, it-â?? [/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Be wary of appearances, Brother. Though these people followed a different path than we did, perhaps they are just as sensible.â? Makt chided. â??However, I too have a bad feeling from this place.â? He added quietly. The two looked over to their leader; his eyes fixed forward, jaw tense, spine rigid. [/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Perhaps it is more than just a gut feeling. Iâ??m picking up a wicked scent, almost like a funeral pyre.â? Varg added slowly. Orin furrowed his brow.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Me too. A Nightmare?â? He questioned.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??No, weâ??re too far within the city, an abomination like that wouldnâ??t have been able to infiltrate so far.â? Makt assured him. However, Orinâ??s heart sank.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??That seems to be more concerning.â? He sighed.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] A small group entered the room, led by a masked figure clad in white. Oxt frowned and shot a glance over to Varg, who shook his head and stood uncomfortably for a moment as the figure drew near. He then noticed the odd juxtaposition of their dirty and torn clothes with the pristine chamber and its blanched envoy. [/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??The Berserkers, I presume.â? The voice was that of a strong, authoritative woman.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Yes,â? Varg began cautiously, â??and you are?â? He attempted a friendly smile, but the tenseness shone through. The woman extended her hand.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Presidente Cerbero. I am the leader of the city of Phénix. Now, I understand you have some urgent news for me and my city.â? Behind her mask, Cerbero raised her eyebrows, Warâ??s prophecy still fresh in her mind. [/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Indeed. The jeep we commandeered to reach your city was a military recon unit headed this way. It would appear the US has some sort of ill plans for your city.â? He paused for a moment and looked back toward his comrades. â??We were, ourselves, out scouting the region for a new encampment. You see, we come from a small village in the South Sierras called Hlidskjalf. Weâ??ve lived in seclusion since the Fall, but as of late, the Nightmare population in the forest has been climbing. Because of this our food sources have been all but depleted, and out safety just the same. I am Varg, the chief,â? He motioned to the Berserkers, â??and this Makt, his brother Oxt and Orin.â? The three nodded in a serious manner. â??Now, we come to your city in the hopes that you might help us in our time of struggle. I donâ??t wish to impose, but is there any way you can support us until weâ??ve successfully relocated? Be it through rations or building supplies?â? He took a deep breath and waited. The President couldnâ??t help but smile to herself at this manâ??s humility, especially in comparison to Warâ??s excessive sense of superiority.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Sir, your people are welcome to reside in our city for as long as you need. We have recently finished construction on two new districts; and, really, in these troubled times we need to take care of one another.â? Her hidden expression changed at the thought of the General. â??Especially when all things seem to be working against us.â? A wave of relief washed over the Berserkers. This time Vargâ??s smile was genuine.[/font][/size] [size=4][font=georgia,serif] â??Madam President, we would be ever in your debt. The only other request I have is that we require something of an escort. There are only about 40 villagers, and while some are trained in basic combat, none have quite enough strength to take on the Nightmares.â? As he spoke his gaze shifted to the doorway. The four men grew tense at the scent of War as he strode confidently into the room.[/font][/size]

[font=times new roman,times,serif]24 May 2015[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif][i]South Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, near Hlidskjalf, 0515 Hours[/i][/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]The sun had yet to rise as they stalked through the trees. All was dark, silent and still. The hunters had managed to acquire only two carcasses in the two hours theyâ??d been prowling. This, however, was not for a lack of ability, but rather those had been the only deer theyâ??d happened upon. [/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]The six Berserkers moved in formation, Varg took point with List and Orin on the right flank, Makt and Flytt to the left, and Oxt bringing up the rear. They entered a clearing and the leader raised his hand, the five stopped immediately. He set his spear against a tree, crouched down to place his palms against the ground. He closed his eyes and sniffed the night air, waiting in vain for some kind of sign. Makt stood over his left shoulder, his massive form barely visible in the absence of light.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??Itâ??s a veritable purgatory here; the forest seems nearly devoid of life.â? Maktâ??s voice low and cautious.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??The worst part is that I canâ??t sense anything nearby. It really seems abandoned here.â? Varg sighed. â??Wait, I just got something.â? His eyes widened and his jumped to his feet. â??Everyone, on your guard!â? His exclamation came out hoarse and strained as he tried to maintain their secrecy.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]The group moved closer and turned their attention outward. Then the silence was cut with a chorus of screeching. The source of which could be heard swiftly approaching, the cracking of branched echoing throughout. [/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]Then they were there, just beyond the edge of the circle, hunched over between the trees. They stood, breathing heavily; trembling in anticipation. All aspects of their humanity had all but been erased in the presence of the oversized, gaping maws. Their numerous fangs dripped with corrosive spittle. As penance for their sinful ways they were stripped of their sight, and in return granted an insatiable hunger; thereby forced to consume all they encountered. They were gluttony incarnate.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??Nightmares.â? Oxt sneered. There were three beasts; the one on the left lunged forward to engage the Berserker who spoke. Oxt, as colossal as Makt, his brother, obliged. He swung his axe laterally, the beast dodged to the right, but too late. The blade of Oxtâ??s weapon glided through the monsterâ??s cheek. It just howled, invigorated by the taste of its own blood. [/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]This prompted the other two to strike. One turned its gaze towards Orin, who, in one fluid motion, nocked an arrow and fired into the face of the approaching threat. The beast clawed at its face, falling backwards as List sailed through the air, plunging his spear through its chest, pinning it. Orin drew his sword cut through the Nightmareâ??s taught, sinewy neck.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??Neutralized!â? He called, turning to see how the others were faring. Flytt and Oxt had eviscerated the first Nightmare, and Makt was approaching Varg, who was grappling with the last. Makt caught his eye and nodded. Varg sucked the quickly sucked the air through his teeth and shoved the beast back and transitioned to his Wolf form as Makt did the same. Maktâ??s war hammer collided with the beastâ??s skull, disorienting it. Varg grabbed at its legs and Makt its torso. With one violent motion, the two ripped the Nightmare in twain.[/font][font=times new roman,times,serif] Returning to their human forms, they clasped the otherâ??s forearm.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??Never gets old.â? Makt laughed.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??It never does.â? Varg returned. He turned to the group. â??Is everyone alright?â?[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??Weâ??re good.â? List and Orin chimed.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??This little guy took a tree to the head, but I think weâ??re fine.â? Oxt teased Flytt, whose face twisted into a sarcastic smile. The group laughed to themselves, but their laughter quickly faded as their attention turned to the two deer theyâ??d caught, one of which had been mutilated in the brawl. Varg closed his eyes and sighed.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??This wonâ??t do. When we return to Hlidskjalf, weâ??ll call a town meeting.â? He spoke wearily to the gang. â??It would appear that the time has come to wake from this dream of ours.â?[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]The horizon was glowing with the coming light.[/font] [center][font=times new roman,times,serif]******[/font][/center] [font=times new roman,times,serif]An older villager was ambling through the town square dousing the torches from last night. The Berserkers strode solemnly through the archway and dispersed without a sound. Varg, accompanied by Makt and List, took to the platform in the square and struck the bell to call all the people forward. Meanwhile, the other three had gone to the armory. The townspeople were few; there were perhaps only 30 or 40, including children and the elderly. As they gathered, Varg spoke.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??My clan, I apologize for calling you from your beds so early this morning, and with such grim news. They impending threat of the Nightmares is upon us. Before we were safe in numbers; our ranks easily besting the small population of those wretched beasts. But theyâ??ve been coming, and theyâ??ve been devouring our food supply. It is no longer safe here.â? He lingered on that remark, choking on his words. â??The time has come we must find a new home. One more sustainable, but we neednâ??t all venture off just yet.â? Oxt, Orin and Flytt emerged from the armory with armfuls of supplies. â??We have decided that four of us will go scout the region for a new camp, at least a temporary one. Flytt and List will remain to train the able bodied and fortify the perimeter. I will see you all soon.â? Varg stepped down from the platform and took up one of the packs prepared by the others. [/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif][i]I hope to see you all soon.[/i] He thought. The crowd only whispered as the Varg, Makt, Oxt and Orin left through the same gate through which they had entered only moments before.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]The sun was just above the trees now.[/font] [center][font=times new roman,times,serif]******[/font][/center] [font=times new roman,times,serif][i]Near Old Bakersfield, 2000 Hours[/i][/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]Having utilized their Wolf Warrior forms, the group was able to cover much more land than they would have otherwise, and by nightfall they had reached the ruins of Bakersfield. They moved cautiously through the city, prepared for an ambush, but it seemed to be for naught. As they came upon what was left of the 5 freeway, headlights shot out over the horizon. Makt and Oxt lifted a large piece of rubble to block the thoroughfare, and the group ducked off to the side of the road. Sure enough, the driver stopped at the impedance. It was a US military jeep driven by two soldiers headed south. When the passenger got out to investigate, the driver received an arrow to the back of the head. As his body fell out of the vehicle the other soldier raised his weapon, but was blinded by the headlights and didnâ??t see the spear. [/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]The Berserkers collected their weapons and, after removing the obstacle, boarded the jeep. When searching for any other items of use, they came upon an old roadmap which seemed to indicate a city called Phénix only about 200 miles to the south.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??It would seem like our only real shot.â? Orin shrugged to the group.[/font] [font=times new roman,times,serif]â??Well, itâ??s only about two hours away. But I want everyone to be on their guard.â? And with that said, Varg started the engine.[/font]

[size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Name: [/b]Unknown at This Point[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Codename:[/b] Varg[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Age: [/b] Appears to be in his early 30s[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Gender: [/b] Male[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Appearance: [/b]Varg stands at 6â??4â? and possesses a muscular build. His face is hard and weathered; and is framed by short, dark, dirty hair and an unkempt beard. His eyes often seem to be focused on something far off in the distance. His attire is minimalist and utilitarian. He is not opposed to wearing industrially fabricated clothing, but eschews constructs of civilization, and therefore is relegated to scavenging. Otherwise, he and his tribe are apt to making their own garb. The tunics and pants they weave usually take on earth tones, such as browns, tan, black and white; and the clothed scavenged range from durable jeans and military BDUs to flannel shirts and heavy winter coats. One outstanding characteristic of the tribe are their cloaks made from wolf and bear pelts.[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Personality: [/b]Varg is a kind and courteous man toward those whoâ??ve earned his trust and respect. He reveres nature and strives to create a symbiotic relationship between his tribe and the Earth. A fierce warrior, he relishes in the visceral art of combat and fights with all his passion. His demeanor is typically relaxed and somewhat stoic; however his heightened senses of sight, sound and scent allow him to remain observant and ever-alert.[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Power/Augmentation:[/b] Ulfhedinn (Wolf-Warrior) Form â?? Varg can, of his own volition, transform into a bipedal, werewolf-like beast. He maintains his cognitive mind, insofar that the lupine form entrances him with a frenzied desire to fight without reservations. In addition to this, his strength, speed and resilience increase dramatically.[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Gang:[/b] He and many of his tribe with like shape-shifting ability have formed The Berserkers.[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]Weapons:[/b] Varg normally wields a dagger, a medium-length sword and a spear. He, however, is also very skilled in archery and the use of axes and hammers in combat.[/font][/size] [size=3][font=georgia,serif][b]City: [/b]Hlidskjalf â?? This village is perched atop a mountain in the Sierra Nevadas of California. It is relatively small, but houses a highly self-sufficient clan of huntsmen, smiths, weavers and warriors. Vargâ??s position is that of a Chieftain, and he stands as the sole executor of all decisions. That being said, he values greatly the opinions of his clan and seeks their advice and counsel on all major acts. Given the smaller population, this method is highly effective at creating a universal contentment within Hlidskjalf. It should be noted that, while in a secluded are, the people are not at all unaware of the world around them, and comport themselves in a steadfast, but sensible fashion when interacting with outsiders.[/font][/size]

[color="#006400"][size="2"][font="Book Antiqua"]Hello to you all and welcome to the general questions and discussion thread for Sar Wars: Universe in Flames. What we will be doing here should be pretty self-explanatory. A sister thread will be posted soon in the backstage that will serve as a comprehensive index of the key players in the RPG. Remember, the auditions thread will always be open. Also, the Theater thread will be under way very shortly. See you there! [/font][/size][/color]

[color="#006400"][size="2"][font="Book Antiqua"][b]Name[/b]: Brekt Carreta [b]Gender[/b]: Male [b]Age[/b]: 19 [b]Race[/b]: Umbaran [b]Class[/b]: Sith Padawan [b]Weapon[/b]: None at first, then he gains a standard red lightsaber with a long, dual-wielding hilt. [b]Character Description[/b]: Brekt hails from the planet of Umbara, a dim world of perpetual twilight. Due to this fact, the Umbarans have light-sensitive vision and have the option of seeing in ultraviolet light. In addition to this ability, they are known for their shrewdness, ability to impose their will upon others and morbid senses of humor. On Umbara there exists a rigid caste system and only the upper echelons are allowed to legally leave the planet. However, the clan Carreta was not part of the privileged and had to be smuggled from the planet when Brekt was twelve. They eventually arrived on Coruscant and took to the underworld of the urban sprwal in the employ of a local Hutt crime lord. Brektâ??s father took up the position of a drug-runner to another Hutt on Tattooine. However, his father stole drugs from the Hutt and for his treachery he was killed. Fearing a gang war the Hutt from Coruscant turned out the mother as a prostitute and offered Brekt as a slave at fourteen to the associate Hutt. On Tattoine, Brekt was plagued daily by the harsh suns of the desert planet. Try as he might, the Hutt, bearing a everlasting vendetta on the Carretas, would often torture the boy; forcing him from the darkness of the stronghold and would beat and whip him for the his amusement. This carried on for five excruciating years as Brekt awaited his revenge to come to fruition by poisoning the Hutt with a slow-acting venom to avoid detection. [b]Physical Appearance[/b]: Brekt is bald, with dark, sunken eyes, as is charaacteristic of his people and stands at 6â??2â?. His build is lithe, but tone and somewhat emaciated from starvation. He is garbed in slave rags and chains originally. When he later is recruited by the Sith he wears the standard black robes and boots. In addition to this he wears dark goggles to shield his eyes from bright light. [b]Personality[/b]: Brekt is calculating and often focused; though he isnâ??t devoid of personality and emotion. He is amicable to those he is close to, which at this time are his fellow slaves. He also possesses a morbid sense of humor, as is characteristic of the Umbaran people. [b]Ship/Transportation[/b]: None [b]Starting Planet[/b]: Tattooine[/font][/size][/color]

[FONT="Book Antiqua"][SIZE="2"][COLOR="DarkGreen"][B]Military File [/B]MX-981 ?Lucky Number 9? or ?Number 9? [B]Android Age[/B]: 20 [B]Classification[/B]: Bio-Android [B]Gender[/B]: Male [B]Height[/B]: 7' [B]Weight[/B]: 300 lbs. [B]Specialty components[/B]: -Nanotek Synthesizer -Specialty synthetic L5 class radiator system -Specialty class 5 synthetic plastique muscle tissues -High speed reactor D model -Arm mounted laser gun -Boomer Missle Launcher -Berserker protocol -Arm mounted flame thrower -Sniper Class optics -Magnetic distorter -GS Bio-mech Organs -Telepresence Abilities External Weaponry: 2 18? bayonets attached to his arms facing backwards off his elbows that he can swing forward and use as twin-blade knives. Occasionally he wields a heavy SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon) machine-gun. [B]Original usage[/B]: Infiltration [B]Android status[/B]: Destroyed [B]Known history[/B]: Originally constructed to aid squads in breaching the strongholds of the military?s malcontents, Number 9 quickly proved himself to be instrumental on the field of battle. Much like Project Metus, he became known widely throughout the enemy ranks for his out-living of the other few members of his particular project. On one such mission, however, the enemy base was completely annihilated from within, leaving the military to believe that, in a last ditch effort to stop Number 9, the enemy self-destructed. No trace of him was found in the wreckage, so it is asserted that he was vaporized at ground zero of the blast. [B]Appearance[/B]: [URL="http://www.freewebs.com/britishunitedfront/Members%20pics/Damon%20Baird.jpg"]Clickity click click[/URL]. This, but with dark hair and withing the afroementioned hight and weight. [B]Personality Side notes[/B]: His is often serious. He has the good habit of keeping his wits about himself in the field of combat; however that mentality tends to carry over outside of battle. Those close to him have been welcomed to his more amiable side. Despite his great ability, he is never arrogant and often opts for a more humble and respectful demeanor.[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT]

[SIZE="2"][COLOR="DarkGreen"][FONT="Book Antiqua"][B]Name[/B]: Harper Crowe [B]Superhero/Supervillain Name[/B]: Machine [B]Age[/B]: 32 [B]Gender[/B]: Male [B]Appearance (In and out of costume)[/B]: As it stands right now, he?d donned a pair of straight-legged jeans and a dark grey t-shirt enclosed in a medium-brown canvas jacket. He stands at a towering 6?3? with a broad, built stature. His facial features include a strong jaw complemented by a chiseled nose and intense green eyes. He tends to keep his hair short, brushed to the side and slightly forward. [B]Personality[/B]: As it stands, he has lost part of him that makes him human and therefore has a somewhat blank, serious demeanor. His actions are pragmatic and he?s lacking somewhat of a moral compass as a result. However, his character will grow to be less static in time as he reclaims memories of being a person. [B]Powers[/B]: He possesses the power of telekinesis, insofar that he can control the movement of matter, but has yet to gain full mastery of this ability. Presently, said power is mostly controlled by his knee-jerk reflexes, and often unconsciously. In addition to this, he is unnaturally knowledgeable. [B]Equipment[/B]: He carries a folding knife in his back pocket and a watch on his right wrist. [B]Character Bio/Snippet[/B]: He has no knowledge of his former life, suffering from selective amnesia, and therefore doesn?t know his name, or age for that matter. So, unbeknownst to him, he used to be known as Harper Crowe and had an insatiable, faustian thirst for knowledge. His studies had led him to a remote location; whereupon he encountered texts in an ancient language he was moderately versed in and began to read in scripture, when his vision became engulfed in a blinding light. The intense feeling knocked him down and left him writhing of the floor. Ultimate knowledge began to download itself into his mind, but he was only human, and his concentration broke and he became unconscious. He resurfaced in Gotham, after what seemed like a dream. He had no understanding of how hw got there or where he came from. Simply, that he knew at one moment he came to be, as if waking. Feeling confused and afraid, and yet, strangely serene, he set out to discover who he was. He currently has no alighnment to good or evil.[/FONT][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE="2"][FONT="Book Antiqua"][COLOR="DarkGreen"]I'd say the song that really describes right now is either Even if it Kills Me by Motion City Soundtrack, or Ever by Flipper.[/COLOR][/FONT][/SIZE]

[COLOR="DarkGreen"][SIZE="2"][FONT="Book Antiqua"]Some Favorites are Alkaline Trio, Motion City Soundtrack, Descendents, Black Flag, Bad Brains, Big Black, Flipper, The Pixies, The Vaselines, Nirvana, The Doors, Muse, Johnny Cash, Nine Inch Nails, Portisead, Grizzly Bear, the list could just go on and on.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[FONT="Book Antiqua"][SIZE="2"]Bedlam left the room without pause. Back in the corner sat Cael and Clockwork. They had gone for some time without saying a word, Cael exhaled and Clockwork stood up. He turned slowly towards the others. ?You understand,? He began evenly, ?you understand that [I]we[/I] are supposed to be against the emotionless trash that don?t give two shits of human life right? You hopeless shells of what you could be, you sicken me.? He took a long drag on his cigarette, exhaled and left without another word. However, he did cut a dirty glance to Trance, and a pitying one to Feirska. He closed to door behind him to an empty boulevard; or what could possibly be construed as a ?boulevard?. He sucked the ash to the filter and dropped it. ?Fuck.? He mouthed mostly, letting the majority of the smoke exit through his nostrils. He began to walk and deeply inhaled the frigid air. It was so sobering. He wished there was a sky to be seen. There were faint steps to be heard echoing in the distance. Splashes and hard steps. [I]He could?ve taken three, something?s different. He was done. He simply checked out. Good for him.[/I] He mused. [I]But? We?re still here. And we will stay here until it?s done.[/I] ?Brother!? Clockwork turned to see his brother approaching him. He waited for him to catch up. They looked at each other, and the younger nodded. ?Yeah, I know.? ?Life is long. Death, however, is short.? ?What is it that gets you so hung up on death? I?ve seen you kill many people. What?s the deal?? ?I don?t know. I guess it?s the one who is doing the dying that matters.? ?Those who deserve to die?? ?We [I]all [/I]deserve to die, Cael.? He stopped walking and slowed his speech as he said this. Caelus didn?t respond. He didn?t need to. Then they heard something out of place. Rapid footsteps. Frantic footsteps. Then they saw it. Bedlam bolted past them, Clockwork began to shout, but quickly stopped. He looked at his brother. They both took off after him.[/SIZE][/FONT] OOC: Ok, sorry it's so short. I really wanted to get something down.

[FONT="Book Antiqua"][SIZE="2"][B]Name:[/B] Gaizka ?Clockwork? Nebulous [B]Age:[/B] 19 [B]Gender:[/B] Male [B]Appearance:[/B] [URL="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/Reizou/1172167188584.jpg?t=1238320654"]A portrait of Gaizka Nebulous.[/URL] His hair is a darker brown (as opposed to in the picture), and instead of glasses he sports a pair of goggles, an earring in each ear, an industrial in his left ear and a nose ring on his right nostril. He wears close fitting jeans tucked into black steel-toe combat boots, a black t-shirt with a torn off collar and an old, brown, faded coat. The H tattoo is located on the back of his neck. It is black in a bold sans serif font with the bottom two legs of the ?H? about twice as long as the top two. [B]Personality:[/B] Clockwork, as product of his upbringing of always smiling, seems to be good natured and happy, yet he is truly filled with such bitterness that he is hardly appeased when he is apart from his violence. He, however, harbors not an ounce of hatred for his comrades and especially his brother, Caelus. With them he can truly feel at ease amongst moments of great stress. [B]Short Bio:[/B] Clockwork was born Gaizka Nebulous to Gerhild and Cornellia. His father was a figure of the High Church and his mother a submissive housewife. He was raised with his younger brother, Caelus, to be wholesome and pure, and far sheltered from the evil and litany of the human condition. His life in a religious family began to weigh heavily on his moral complex and his inner tension between natural impulses, such as anger and lust, and the sterility of his life. He soon became aware that he was in an invisible cage. Free to do what he wanted, just as long as it was how he was instructed. This gave birth to a swelling bitterness; one that cooked beneath the surface in wait for that day, that day when he would take his life back. For Gaizka, that day actually came in the form of night. Gaizka, who had gained the nickname Clockwork from his younger brother, had wandered into the seedy part of Salvation City. He witnessed the murders of three children of clergymen. He immediately recognized their freedom and pleaded with them to join their ranks. They, however, knew who he was. Though some one heretic thought they should simply kill him then and there, another believed they should test his resolve. He was to murder the remaining son. The victim was about his age, he was on his knees and his hands were bound behind his back. He killed for the first time that night. The crack he felt in his palms made him twitch slightly as he released the boy?s neck and let him fall limp to the ground. Without a word, he was freed. He was sixteen. In some time he learned of his brother?s joining. He hadn?t seen his brother in a while, but he knew of his family?s treachery. He requested that Cael be repeatedly tested to ensure that he hadn?t succumbed to the indoctrination. He finally saw his brother again, as a comrade. [B]Weapons/Special Skills:[/B] Clockwork, at all times, carries a push dagger sheathed inside his right boot. Otherwise, when he knows he?ll need it, he?s armed with a Jericho pistol, bought off of an underground arms dealer. His special skills consist of the ability to remain calm under great stress and execute tactical decisions and to some extent he possesses medical know-how to aid his injured comrades. [B]Vice:[/B] His vice is wrath. He is short tempered and prone to wanton violence. He holds a special loathing for the Theocracy and especially enjoys their suffering. [B]Writing Sample:[/B] The fog was cut by a biting wind. A man stood alone on a rooftop. Clutching his arms, he shivered as a shadowed figure approached him. The figure stepped into the glow of single light. Clockwork spoke: ?I apologize for Sparhawks absence. He had other more pressing matters to attend to.? His tone became obviously condescending. He produced a smallish box. ?That?s the stuff? It?s not what I thought it would look like.? ?Is it ever?? ?Right.? The man stammered nervously. ?Let me have it.? ?You junkies, man-? Clockwork began, then, ?So, the agreed payment?? ?Oh, yes? well let me see, I must have it somewhere?? He fumbled with his jacket pockets. Then he suddenly produced a knife and lamely stabbed at Clockwork. The would-be victim had expected this and easily deflected the assault by clasping the man?s writs and bringing the knife down to rest in the man?s leg. He screamed but was quickly silenced as his attention turned to his hand. Which was now held out before him. He was paralyzed with fear. Clockwork took his index finger, and broke it. The snap made the man gasp and silently scream. His screams became audible as Clockwork further twisted his finger, tearing the skin and separating it completely from his hand. He smiled and raised the disembodied finger to the man?s face. ?Tch tch tch, no no no.? He sounded motherly. The man was thrust to the ground and Clockwork proceeded to violently kick and stomp his chest. He, the man, was now hanging over the edge of the building, lying on his back. Through the froth of blood he gurgled: ?Mercy.? ?I shall give you your mercy.? Clockwork said slowly and somberly as he slid the man over the edge. Tens of stories to his swiftly delivered death. Clockwork turned towards the stairs to meet a smirking Caelus. ?Brother,? he spoke, ?and what of the other one?? ?He?ll have headache when he come to I suppose.? He paused before laughing as they strode past a body slumped in the corner with a partially collapsed skull.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT="Book Antiqua"][SIZE="2"]?Mr. K? Mr. K I need you to wake up. The Master wishes an audience with you.? K?s vision was blurred, becoming focused on a young scout. ?Mr. K?? ?The one and the same.? K relied raising his eyebrows and smiling slightly. He looked behind him and saw that he was still sitting before Seraphim?s chambers. ?Well anyway, I suppose I?m in the right place.? The scout smiled weakly and said that indeed he was. ?You needn?t look so afraid. My wrath is for my adversaries, and there?ll be plenty of them to deal with in the time to come.? He stood up and put one arm around the young one?s shoulders. ?Get some rest, I?m sure you?ll need it.? ?Very good sir.? And the scout turned away towards his units quarters. [I]It has certainly been a while since I was in your very place. I am most grateful to you for that, my friend and leader[/I]. He about faced and turned the knob to enter the structure. He was now standing in a large foyer where a doorman, of sorts, had swiftly made his way across the room to meet him. ?You are?? The doorman inquired. ?You may call me K. Seraphim sent for me, I believe?? The doorman cocked his brow briefly at K addressing their leader by his name. ?The Master,? he emphasized, ?is currently entertaining a guest, you may wait for- ? ?That won?t be necessary.? The doorman jumped ever so slightly at the abrupt entrance of the voice from behind. ?I?ve been expecting him, though not quite this quickly.? ?Seraphim, I happened to be in the neighborhood.? K gave the Master a bizarre look. The doorman stepped back and bowed slightly to the two vampires before him. ?So, shall I wait?? K questioned. ?Not at all, we can begin right away. Actually, I am additionally waiting for Nemo, he?s a sprite-? ?I actually came across him on my way. Seems nice, but kind of in a hurry.? They both entered the main chamber. He took in the room. For an office in the middle of a forest, it was quite nicely adorned, but sacrificed none of it?s spaciousness. Classy. ?Silvester.? Seraphim noticed his aloof expression and brought him back. K?s eyes fell upon a beautiful woman seated back in the room on a generously upholstered chair. K gripped the top of his hat and raised it in salutation. ?Good evening to you madame.? ?This is Firenze Nuri. She will be joining our coalition,? He paused, ?at my side.? K. held out his hand. Firenze stood up and look at his outstreatched limb. Then firmly grasped it. ?Silvester K. I?ve been a comrade of Seraphim for some hundred years now.? ?He?s definitely carved out an indispensable position for himself.? Seraphim added. Firenze moved closer to K and sniffed the air clandestinely. ?You are a vampire.? She stated. ?That wasn?t a question, was it?? He said flatly, with a hint of caution. ?I am a vampire,? there was a pause, ?but you are not, are you?? ?No, I am a werewolf.? The way she said it made it seem like ?werewolf? would have been capitalized. A Werewolf. ?Will that be a problem.? ?No.? Seraphim stepped in. ?He isn?t ignorant like some vampires or lycans, who believe we are enemies.? Firenze looked at him for a minute. Then nodded slightly. ?Now, to you, Silvester, I should welcome you back from your trip, I haven?t seen you since Europe. Did you find what you were looking for?? ?Somewhat. I?m ready to be return to your side.? K moved across the room towards the window. He observed the movement, not the individuals, just the motion. His mind blurred the faces so there was only motion, so much of it. ?So, Seraphim, how has your? er, [I]son[/I] been?? ?He?s grown much, he?s strong.? ?Strong? Your brand of strong?? ?He?s capable, and very charismatic. [I]You?d[/I] like him.? ?How do you figure? I mean, I?m sure I will, but, why me specifically.? ?How do I put this. He resembles a certain dichotomy I see in you?? He paused and smirked. ?I will formally introduce you two soon.? ?Well, pleasantries aside, what will be our next move? I hate to say this, but as fun as the bombs may have been, I am capable of so much more.? ?I?m well aware of that, Silvester, and I will divulge that unto you momentarily. Nemo should be arriving soon. We?ve merely started. [/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT="Book Antiqua"][SIZE="2"]K. flowed along the boulevard. He dodged between the crowds of humans. He thought of everything and mostly nothing. He also thought of the cadets who fled quickly back to the base camp. He supposed that he would too. As he seemed to drift further into madness he required a distraction, ?Where?s Seraphim?? He wondered aloud. ?He?d know what to do. This bombing was a farce anyway. What was the point? To make humans afraid? They already are afraid. We?re afraid, well, the young cadets are, anyway. Really, the only thing that separates Vampires and Humans is that Vampires understand death and fear it (for the most part), whereas humans fear death, but don?t know why.? ?It?s a silly thing, really.? He continued down the sidewalk. A young man came into his proximity. K. disregarded him, and as the young man walked parallel to him, K. grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar. He yanked downward and the man?s upper back slammed the pavement. If he survives the crowds, he?ll live more for it. ?That was unkind.? ?I?m aware of that.? ?Where am I?? K. stopped and for the first time stopped ranting at himself and observed his surroundings. He righted himself. ?I almost lost you there for a second.? He commandeered the third car he saw. *** He had abandoned the automobile and was feeling more in control. K. had been walking for a while now, he wasn?t sure how far. It was cold, cold and sobering. He really hoped to see Seraphim there, knowing full well that the Master would be busy and probably wouldn?t want to see him in return. He is the Master after all, even if he is one of the few others that he knows. He told himself to never mind. He told himself to observe the night instead. And it was a beautiful night really, there wasn?t a cloud, only stars. There was a stillness in the air. All he could hear was his breath, and his steps crunching across the forest floor. He drew his gun, pointed it, then holstered it again. Something was bound to happen, happen soon. He spotted lights and movement in the distance, he had arrived. He recognized the sprite, and an unfamiliar young man with him. K. made a bee line to the pair. ?Greeting,? he began, ?we haven?t met.? He made a somewhat ridiculous face for only a second. ?Yeah, I may have seen you in the city, you are??? ?K.? K. appeared to have an awkward presence about him that Nemo wasn?t in any position to deal with. ?Anyway, I must be getting some rest now.? He began to slip past the stranger when he was suddenly stopped. ?Is Seraphim in his chambers?? ?Yes, er, but he?s? indisposed.? ?Indisposed?? ?There?s a woman? I believe. But don?t quote me.? ?Lucky man.? Nemo began to leave again, this time K. stopped the young man; leaning in close. ?What?? The younger one asked, become self conscious of the man scrutinizing him. ?Lycanthrope?? ?Yes.? ?The least willing yes I?ve ever heard.? He was silent. ?Well anyway, you have a name I presume.? ?Dash.? ?K.? They both left. K. made his way to the Master?s quarters. He waited outside, and remained silent, boiling in his own thoughts.[/SIZE][/FONT] OOC: I apologise for the lack of length. But I'm back now.