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Creators have been among us for centuries. They appear normal, and for every bit they are. They seem to be drawn to occupations and lifestyles which involve creativity, ingenuity, intelligence, wit, and other sharp skills. Writers, engineers, inventors, artists--any could be a Creator, hidden, possibly unknown even to themselves.

The Major Archangel Panel has existed for as far back as the First Creator, serving as the law-keepers. Thirteen white-winged men, standing for truth and justice and fairness for all. The First Creator assembled them to ensure that future Creators would learn the importance to control any Creations that they brought forth--because a completely Independent Creation could not be controlled, and therefore much more difficult to destroy. Punishment was almost always worst for the Creation in particular--until nearly the 500th confirmed Creator, when the Creator in question was brought before the Panel and brought up a very good point.

The Panel could always deal with one or two Independent Creations at a time. But if an entire army were made, then the Panel could easily be overthrown. They would be out of control, out of power.

That simply would not do.

And thus the Panel began to amend the laws of the First Creator, began to violate the rights and powers of the Creators, began to punish any Creator that stepped the slightest out of line, that dared to stand up and speak out against their oppressors.

Once a Creator was confirmed, as the Major Archangel Panel could easily sense their budding presence, a specific Archangel, not of the Panel, but of high-ranking, was sent to fetch the Creator, and they would be brought before the Panel and told the rules and laws until it was engraved in their minds:

All Creations are abominations to nature. An independent Creation is a sign of rebellion in a Creator. All Creators are false gods, playing games with words and thoughts and ideas and ink. The Panel is true and righteous. Their judgment is final and condemning. Do not oppose the Panel, for they hold all of the power.

Failure to comply with these laws would result in a severe punishment and sometimes death. Normally it took a heavy amount of evidence and recurring offences against the Panel, but as time wore on, it seemed to take less and less to provoke a death sentence from the power-hungry group.

And now they are out to strip all Creators of their Creations and power. It is all due to a Creator that they did not foresee, that they did not seem to sense. The 10,000th Creator, a young woman named Cassandra, with over a thousand Creations to her name, is starting to realize that the people she's running into not only look a lot like her characters in her stories and books--they actually are! This Creator finds out easily enough that power is not always transferred down family lines--it can also jump from person to person. With nearly no Creator history in her family going back very far, the development of this powerful Creator begins to send the Panel into a frantic search to see where the power leak is coming from and how many more have been affected.

As Cassandra slowly begins to cope with life as a Creator, swept away to a land she had believed only existed in her nightmares, she finds that she will need the strength of not just her beloved characters-come-to-life, she'll need other Creators, both confirmed and those newly coming into power. As long as they had ideas of worlds and monsters and power and strength and people in their minds, they would be able to help. But armed right now with only a sparse collection of a necromancer, a pair of twins, a demon, a prince, a series of ten monsters that despise her, and a king with a heart of ice, there is no way she can stand up to the Panel and their charges for making Creations that are completely free-willed and uncontrollable.

Are you willing to ride across the nearly barren landscape that surrounds the terrible Nightmare Castle to join the Crusade against the Panel? The train leaves Grand Central Station in New York, bound for Somewhere, in Connecticut--it will bring you to the edge of the barren land. The inn down the lane will lend you horses if you need them, if you only tell them you are off to the Castle. It's a hard hour's journey, but help is needed by any who will come.

Just watch out for the one rock in the entire landscape. I know, it's hard to miss, so do your best.

What do you say? Are you in?

Original characters encouraged, self-inserts accepted, must not be afraid of twelve foot tall Australian-accented spiders, zombies, and sparsely-dressed men, and must be willing to endure light humor.

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Profile Name: HalloweenNumber1
Character Name: Cassandra
Title: Creator and Mistress of the Nightmare Castle
Weapons: Scrolls for Creation and Fragments of Creations
Skills: Can temporarily borrow the attributes of a Creation. Like borrow the power of necromancer from one, or the power to transform nto a bat from a vampire (if he has the ability)
Bio: Born in Iowa, Cassandra has been not that important all her life. Not that she cared. She was second oldest and was content to care for her siblings and hurry and clean the house before her mom walked in the door every night and help make dinner and wash dishes. She was also a writer. After a decent break, a bit of work got published.
Then perhaps it was just the strange way she was, but she began to see the characters in flashes and bursts in her every day life. It wasn't until her infamous King walked up to her and began to speak to her did she realize--reality was hitting home. This was real. Before she knew it, she was plunging into a world of Archangels and demons and Devils and sorcerers. She quickly feared she would not be able to keep her head above water as her new life and the new laws began to drag her slowly downward.
Apperance: Five-foot nine, she is of average build, with pale skin, full lips, hazel eyes, wavy brown hair, and hazel eyes that winked blue from time to time. Usually sporting a brocade Victorian gown or jeans and a sarcastic T-shirt, she can almost always be found with pen and paper in hand, black-rimmed glasses in place on her face, and a hopeful and eccentric nature just bursting forth at the seams.

Character Name: Vaughn
Title: The Lord of the Dead, The Forgotten King, and Lord of the Nightmare Castle
Weapons:Bone-staff, with shadow-obsidian embedded in the end.
Skills: Can summon and control the dead.
Bio: Born from the merged Creations of the Lord of the Dead and the Forgotten King, he is Cassandra's most precious Creation. He is flawless in his design and does not show any sign of dependency to his Creator, a fact he often uses to his advantage. He has been trying to woo Cassandra, since bringing her to his Castle, and has just made a breakthrough recently at the Spring Masquerade--but with the Panel in the way, he fears now that he'll never get the chance to seek out his happy ending.
Apperance: At a towering six-foot-nine, he stands a whole foot over his Creator, his thin frame accented with his deathly pale skin, long black hair, and cat-like grace. He has the demeanor of a lord, and demands the respect of one, always dressing in fine silks and velvets, in jabot shirts and tailored trousers with expensive boots. His crimson eyes seem to be alight with a sort of inner light, as though candles glowed and flickered beyond those garnet orbs.

I can profile the others as they appear. Adrian appears in my post, but a full description will be given later.

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"...And must be willing to endure light humor," the young woman said, typing away like mad on her black wireless keyboard, her eyes glued, true to her strange and never wavering nature, to her fingers as they skittered endlessly over the keys, pausing to glance up, rapidly hit the 'Backspace' button, re-type, sometimes going back and repeating this process again and again. With a broad smile, she looked over her post again and felt proud that she had stuck to her call for help. She doubted she would recieve any reply, and she certainly doubted that there would be anyone on that train, whether there on purpose or accidentally, but she couldn't help hoping beyond all hope.

Her right arm gave a very painful twinge, bringing to mind the last, and possibly most painful, lashing she had received from the Panel so far. It wasn't her fault she was powerful and had no control. All of her Creations were accidents. She had just written a book and a few stories, that's all.

She winced visibly at that thought. Yeah, but the Panel never would see it that way. The bruises and burns and scars proved that. It made her close her eyes and long for home... Tears started to burn her eyes as she remembered what shouldn't be remembered...

"Mistress, you spelled 'Connecticut' wrong..." a soft voice said over her shoulder, making her jump as she looked over her shoulder at the tall blonde man. Handsome and kind, Adrian was one of a pair of twins, almost identical to his brother, Alex. But delving closer into their pasts and interests revealed two completely different men, her Devil Twins.

Blinking away the fresh tears, she gave a trembling smile and turned her attention to the error, correcting it and glancing over it again before clicking 'Post'.

Adrian smiled gently at the young woman. Sometimes he worried about his Creator, but didn't have the heart to tell her. She was so proud of herself, about how independent and strong she was, when he saw how fragile and alone she really was. They all saw it. His smile widened as he thought of Vaughn, the tall, dark, and handsome man that doted on the young woman. He was the most painfully aware, perhaps, of the delicacy of her situation, and probably knew it was best not to let her know... It was just too cruel...

His icy blue eyes followed Cassandra as she got up from her simple desk, her brocade gown sweeping the floor as she stepped to the large window, looking out over the bleak landscape, noting how it looked like rain and wondered if she should have warned about the rain...

"Don't worry, Adrian... We'll have reinforcements tomorrow...They'll see it and they'll know to heed the call... They will know... They will come... They have to..." she whispered softly as she watched the first drops hit the glass panes.

The words she left unsaid were likely the most haunting, as they hung in the air, unsaid by either but equally understood. I don't know what we'll do if they don't...

Profile Name: Keen
Character Name: Raya
Title: No title.
Weapons: None known.
Skills: None known.
Bio: Born an only child into fairly well to do family. Her mother worked as a lawyer, and her father as a police officer. Both jobs consuming large amounts of time, so from a young age Raya was quite independent. After 15 years of living in the same place, she had very little in the way of friends, she often kept to herself, thinking, writing, playing out countless scenes in her head. Often her free time was spent at home on a computer or on a video game console. Raya played any RPG she could get her hands on, browsed countless writing, art, and roleplaying sites, and listened to a very wide and odd assortment of music. Though she didn't show it, she was mostly happy in these 15 years, of course feeling lacking in the physical companionship department from time to time, she was content with being her normal, insignificant piece of the puzzle of life, self. At her 16th birthday, she received her presents from her parents, ate some of her cake (One of her favorite things in life), and was congratulated for existing another 365 days by some of her internet friends. The night was fairly warm, so she headed outside, making her way to the large hill near her house. As she came to the base of the hill, her gaze traveled up. A silhouette of an armored woman, leaning on a rather large sword, lodged in the ground, could be seen imposed in front of the moon. After confirming her eyes were functional, she began to run up the hill. The figure seemed to shift its gaze towards her, but the closer she got, the more the armored woman dissipated, finally vanishing. After spending a few moments atop the hill in disbelief she returned to her house, to her room. The room was pitch black, her face only illuminated by her computer screen. And there, on one of her usual forums, she spotted a post that caught her interest.
Apperance: A small framed girl, her outfits not straying far from a very casual T-shirt (Of occasional odd origin, obscure reference, or simply plain) and plain, blue denim pants. The only physical attribute worth noting is her very long, black hair. It reached to just below her lower back. Her eyes consisted of deep and lovely shade of green.

She read the post countless times over, mulling it over in her head over and over again. What the heck. She shrugged to herself. Worth a shot. Even this is a joke, it might be a worthwhile trip. Raya went over to her closet, took out a suitcase she hadn't touched in years, and began to throw in some pants, and all of her favorite shirts. She had quite a bit of money on hand from the many "Happy Birthday" letters she received from her relatives and such. It took only a few moments for the packing to be complete, she looked up the schedule for the train, looking for the earliest one leaving the next day. With all preparations set, she began to waste her time in any way possible until it was time to leave, she didn't plan to sleep, nor could she. Her heart beat was up, her mind could not stay on any one concept for long. What she had seen on the hill, what she was going to do this morning, it was all very surreal.

Hours later, her mother deep asleep, her father already left for work. She brought up the post one last time, typing up a simple reply. "On my way." Computer shut down: check, money: check, suitcase: check. A deep breath, and out the door she went, making sure to keep quiet. The morning was chilly, she pulled her jacket tight around her and made her way to Grand Central Station, of course, she did not plan on walking there. The station was about an hour long drive from her house, so walking would take too long. She made her way to the nearest bus stop, catching a few z's on the bench and on the bus, she was there in about an hour and a half.

"Somewhere, Connecticut..." she looked over the list of destinations, there was only one bound for Connecticut, so she figured that must be somewhere. Ticket purchased, she boarded her train, bound for somewhere. I don't think I can ride a horse... Then again I've never tried... Her headphones slipped over her ears easily enough, the music drowned out all the other sounds, and let her mind wander... And wander... Fear and excitement mixing, with a touch of anxiety, not knowing what to expect.

At the train station, a pair of matching blondes in identical porters' outfits stood on crates, announcing the call to board the train to "Somewhere", Connecticut on Platform Four. They seemed a little anxious when no one seemed to pay them any mind, they conversed for a moment, concern written on their features before they consulted their watches, beginning their round of announcing the location of Platform Four (between Three and Five) and it would be leaving within the half-hour.

"Any passengers bound for 'Somewhere', Connecticut, please board now!"

They seemed almost a comical pair, trying to direct people in the direction of the large sign that stated it was Platform Four, becoming more and more frustrated as no one seemed to be heading in that direction. Maybe to Platform Three, or to Platform Five, but none to Platform Four...

OOC: Eep, ok, you can discard the last part of my post.
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IC:

I don't see anything for a Somewhere, Connecticut... Raya was a bit worried, she began to wander about the train station. Among the hustle and bustle and loud chatter in the station, her ears perked up when she heard "Connecticut." Somewhere off in the distance. Two odd looking men atop crates were shouting. Raya pushed her way through the crowds until finally stopping in front of the two. "This goes to Somewhere, Connecticut?" She felt a bit silly, sincerely hoping she was asking the right people, and that she hadn't only been hearing things.

"Oh, good!" one of the men said, obviously relieved as he stepped off the crate. "Yes, yes, it's headed for Somewhere. Are you here in response to the post online?" His features looked drawn tight, but still hopeful as he looked at the young woman.

"I hope so," the other said, still standing on his crate. "'Cus no one else has shown up yet and Cassandra's not answering the phone, so we can't see how many replies she's gotten or how many to expect..."



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OOC:
Sorry, that was my fault, I had misread the end of your post, but since we seem to be going okay, we can stick with this... ^^;; sorry!

"Yes yes, I'm here because I saw that post..." Well... If this IS a joke... It's very elaborate at the very least. She looked over the two twins. "No one else? What about you two?... And when are we leaving?" She had many more questions floating about the sea of her mind but decided to put them on hold for the moment.

"Oh, we're here to help get people there safely. She didn't think it was a grea idea to leave a bunch of young kids alone by themselves, especially not where we're going, and not with the bad weather that was brewing when we left..." The first blonde smiled, holding out a hand. "I'm Adrian, the older brother, the Vampire. This is Alex," he said, motioning to the other blonde, who began to resume shouting his message. "He's the Demon. We'll get to that soon, this way," he said, leading her towards the train and boarding to find it rather vacant.

Making his way down a couple of cars, he finally found his apparent target, a young woman dressed in deep burgundy, wrapped tightly in a thick blanket as she lay back on the seat, her eyes closed in exhaustion. Reaching out, he gently nudged her leg, making her jump in surprise, her bloodshot hazel eyes snapping open as she quickly roused herself. "I wasn't sleeping," she mumbled, starting to sit up.

Adrian rolled his eyes slightly. "This is the first to board," he said, motioning to the young woman. "You were supposed to stay awake and keep an eye on the posts and let us know..."

She yawned widely, looking at the seat opposite her where an open laptop sat, displaying a large number of replies. "Most of them are just saying it's a hoax, no matter what I post..."

The blonde looked a little crestfallen at that, about to argue when the young woman smiled. "What's your name?" she asked softly.

"Pleasure to meet you Adrian and Alex. Vampire and a demon? Neat." She gave a little smirk. Raya was at this point happy she came, at the very least, she would meet some interesting people.

Raya's eyes wandered as she followed Adrian, she was indeed the only one who had arrived so far. Her gaze finally resting on the woman wrapped up in blankets. It was cold, but not THAT cold. Raya glanced over at the laptop, briskly looking over the posts, they all seemed to be denouncing what she had originally posted. She wondered how many thought what she herself had posted was just a sarcastic reply.

Her attention returned to the woman in front of her, looking her over slowly. "I'm Raya." She smiled and gave a little bow. "And might I add... I love the color." She was referring to the burgundy, one of her favorite colors.

Her smile widened, her pale face brightening a bit as she sat herself up, moving the laptop out of the way. "Sit, please," she said. "I'm Cassandra. I'm glad you came, it's hard for people to believe anything that farfetched these days... Had I not experienced it first hand, I don't think I would have believed it myself..."

Another man stepped into the compartment, his crimson eyes falling onto Raya for a moment before he nodded slightly in greeting. "Sorry, just wanted to check up on you, Cassandra," he said softly in his velvet-smooth voice, turning his attention to the young woman in red.

She just chuckled at him. "I'm just the same as when you checked on me five minutes ago, Vaughn... Raya, this is Vaughn, he is my first and most precious Creation. Vaughn, this is Raya, the first to arrive."

Vaughn held out a hand to her, a faint smile dusting his face. "A pleasure."

Raya took a seat near Cassandra. "Well, I doubted it when I read it. I even doubted it on my way here. But I'm glad I came." She looked up, a bit surprised at the entrance of the new man. Raya blinked and stood, shaking his hand. "Pleasure's mine." She smiled, taking a seat afterwards. "So... He's your creation? Honestly... I'm really not even sure what's going on." She looked back over at Vaughn for a few moments, inspecting him to head to toe before returning her attention to Cassandra.

Cassandra nodded. That was indeed understandable, it was still a pretty new concept to her as well. "Well, you see, a Creator is someone who can take an idea, a thought, an image, some words, almost anything and make something from it. For example," she said, typing quickly on the laptop, bringing up a publisher's web page displaying the cover of a book entitled The Forgotten King. On the cover was a picture of Vaughn, sitting forlornly on a throne. It stated in large letters, the author's name: "Cassandra Schofield."

"My method of Creaiton specifically is writing," she said. "I write a story, come up with a character, scribble out a scene, and I can make it real. That's how I got Vaughn, here," she said, pointing to the man, who still hovered in the doorway.

Raya blinked. "Wow... That's amazing." She looked from the cover to Vaughn a few times. "So this... Just happens? There's no conscious effort towards it?" She was reminded of the silhouette she had seen earlier atop the hill, perhaps that was what she was talking about. She stared out the window of the train, this thought setting in her mind like a very heavy weight. After a few moments she shook her head and blinked back into reality. "So... What is it exactly that you need from me? From the people you were calling to in that post?"

"Well... You see... There's a Panel of Archangels, and they're trying to take away the power of the Creators, but they just can't do that, it would drain the creators completely, we wouldn't be able to survive... I need to find other Creators to help me stand against them, as just one isn't enough to do it... Hell, if I could just get a lot of people to stand against them, I know my Creations would be able to lend a lot to the situation... But as you can probably tell, they're all dismissing it... I have gotten a few replies asking me about it, but they all say they're too far to do anything..."

"I don't know how you're going to get on that horse, you had to be almost carried just to get on the train," Vaughn said softly, making Cassandra chuckle.

"I have my ways." Turning to Raya, she said, "Sometimes the Panel will take a Creator that has broken their laws and will... harm them to make an example of them... to show other Creators what happens when you defy them..." As she said this, she started to roll up her long sleeves, revealing thin, brutal marks and dark bruises and savage burns that ran all up and down her arms. "They do stuff like this to us... It's worse if you struggle... Or if your Creations try to stop them..."

"And it's torture for us to watch and not be able to help..." Vaughn said again in that soft voice of his, looking away from her now.

"There is some conscious effort towards Creating, and sometimes it makes the Creator feel tired or dizzy, but it really varies..." She turned back to smile at Raya. "I probably sound crazy right now... That's how it sounded to my editor when I called her in the middle of the night, screaming that the Forgotten King was on my front porch..."

"Oh, yes, that was interesting to explain later..." the raven haired mand said with a slight smile. "I still don't think she believes you..."

Cassandra shook her head. "She doesn't..."

Raya blinked, this was quite a bit of information to take in at once. When she saw Cassandra's wounds she frowned, "That's terrible!" She could only imagine how much that might hurt, and even then it was probably far worse. "So... Well, yesterday, I saw something that might have been a creation of mine... But it disappeared before I could get very near to it. And, I've never met, let alone heard of any of these archangel people... And, I know this may not mean much but, I'm sorry for what happened to you..." Raya looked down for a moment. "But, I'll help you any way I can... And I'll do my best to see to it that something like that doesn't happen again."

Cassandra nodded. "That seems to be a real problem wit the Panel, they haven't been sensing some of the more recent Creators that are popping up, and they're getting worried because we're getting stronger and harder to stop and pin down..."

Smiling a little, she continued, "So tell me about it, this person that might be a Creation. I know what happened with me, but I know I'm a special case anyway. Did they seem familiar to you in any way, like you had seem them before?"

"I see... Well I suppose that isn't an entirely bad thing." She looked up at ceiling of the train cabin. "As for what I saw, it looked a lot like one of my characters, she's one of my favorites. But, she was just standing atop the hill near my house, I couldn't make out any details aside from her general outline."