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Commedia dell'arte

Commedia dell'arte

The year is 2102 AD, on the lonely blue planet we call Earth. The planet is ruled by cybernetics, gene manipulation, the discovery of "magic" or "powers", and strange beasts and men that are ripping people, and the planet, apart.

847 readers have visited this universe since Lord Saethos created it.
Topics: action, adventure, cyberpunk, genepunk, horror, magic, modern fantasy, mystery, original, and sci-fi (Add Tags »)
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Rain is coming down, in small droplets, but by the hundreds, covering every inch of a quiet forest. A man, probably in his mid to late 50's, is on the ground, panting and breathing heavy, looking up above him with his eyes wide in terror. He's completely encircled by a group of people wearing the iconic "comedy" mask associated with theater, but the eyes and mouth seem to have black fabric behind them, to ensure anonymity perhaps. There's a mixture of both men and women among them. Some have cybernetic implants, some seem to be mutated from black market gene manipulation, and some are perfectly normal. But all of them are armed, and covered in droplets of this man's blood.

One of the group, a man dressed in a grey business suit, leans down. He wears the same mask as the others, only his seems to have a black, liquid like substance coming from the eyes and mouth. "Now now, my little Capulet, you've gotten quite in over your head it would seem. You thought you'd be spying on some Montagues, finding out some information to bring back to your spy masters I suspect. But instead, hehehe.... All you've found is tragedy. Don't you just love irony?" The man pointed at his mask as he burst into a mad fit of laughter

The man on the ground was beginning to hyperventilate, knowing there was no practical way out. "L-look! I don't have to tell anyone about this! Just let me go and I'll take this secret with me! Please, I swear this will all stay with me!"

The grey suit man began to cackle in a fit of hysterics. "You think you have something to tell anyone? Oh my poor little Capulet, you know NOTHING about what we are, and the absolute HELL we are going to bring to Earth. Oh no, you haven't even seen the tip of the iceberg yet. We could very easily let you go, there is nothing we would have to lose from it in fact! Except.... for our dinner."


Police would stumble across the body of a middle aged man approximately thirteen days after the incident, in a remote patch of forest in Wisconsin. The body was mutilated almost beyond recognition, with a hundred or so cuts and stab marks, bits of flesh ripped off, and what appeared to be human teeth marks. Strange marks were found in the area too, footprints that looked like they belonged to a moose or something, and further scratches and pierces on the body that looked like they were from antlers. There is no officially named suspect at this time, but rumors are circling that some cult, gang, or secret organization is behind it. Those who know the rumors well enough refer to them as...

Commedia dell'arte.




Earth is an abysmal place to live right now. Sure, every period of history has said that before, but in 2102, it's about as bad as it's ever been.

The population of the little blue planet is now well into 15 billion. Cybernetics are commonplace today, but if you can't pay your bills, you'll be paying in arms and legs. People are starting to develop "magic" or "powers" that no one can explain, and that fewer people are "okay" with. And even now, governments around the world are dabbling in the idea of legalizing gene manipulation for commercial use, an "alternative" to the cybernetics that are so common. Of course, you could end up with more arms than you were asking for...


And that's just a few social issues. Poverty is rampant, globally. Couple wars, race conflicts, and economic collapses will do that to a planet. Land is getting scarce, and polluted. Food is getting closer to short supply. Murder is becoming a sport. Sure, you could move to one of the space colonies, but they're not even finished being built yet, and can even the "ocean" of space separate us from the problems of Earth?

If you're poor, you'll probably die of an overdose, murder, or starvation. If you're rich (but not rich enough), you'll probably die in a Corporate War, killed off by a private army owned by some other greedy billionaire. On this Earth, your life is hanging by a thread, no matter who you are, rich or poor, magical or not, cybernetically enhanced or totally flesh, genetically modified or pure human.

But hey, that's the life you're used to. This isn't news to you, just something to shrug at.


Now the rumors about demons and monsters creeping up around the Earth? That IS news to you, and definitely not something you've heard before. Strange monsters in the forests of North America, demons stalking the streets in Japan and China, evil witches and other cryptids in Europe. Rumors are rumors you'd say, nothing to take seriously, but what about the strange murders that follow them? People ripped apart in ways that look like animals did it? Bodies torn apart and thrown around? There is something strange about that, even to you.

And some how, none of this seems to compare to "Commedia dell'arte". The gang, or cartel, or cult, or big group of psychos that seems to be terrorizing the world. Who are they? What do they want? Are they connected to the "animalistic" killings we've been seeing? Or the appearance of "magic" and "powers" in human beings? And do they have a specific target, a group of people they have chosen to hate and destroy, or is their chaos random?

I guess the question is, how far are you willing to go to answer these questions? But more importantly, how far are you willing to go to survive in this world...



Character Sheets

Race/Nationality/Species: (Including Citizenship, what country you are legally a citizen of)

Occupation: (Your job(s))

Factions: (Will include more later as things develop more)

Religion/Philosophy: (Optional)
Political Ideals: (Optional)


Skills: (The things you're good at)

Transportation: (How you get around)
Home: (Your house, city, country, etc.)


Powers: (Magic or other abilities you may have)
Augmentations: (Cybernetic or genetic modifications you have. Can be combat related, medically related, etc.)

Picture: (Of your character)
Appearance Description: (For when a picture isn't enough)
Theme Song: (Also optional?)


1. There is a lore that shall unfold, so as you would with any other roleplay, don't go and attempt to hijack it.

2. Be respectful with each other. I don't have time for people to have needless and pointless feuds with each other, so treat each other like any rational person would.

3. Your character is not all powerful. Powerful, yes, but remember that powers often have limitations. Keep that in mind when writing characters.

4. As per usual, both players get a chance to "react" in combat and other situations. If you both are uncertain how you want to roleplay the outcome of a scenario, dice can be included to help make decisions better.

5. Third person past tense. "He's walking down the hallway" doesn't sound as nice as "he walked down the hallway" or "he walks down the hallway". At this rate, I think this is just the common way most people write anyways.

6. Post on a semi-regular basis. I'm approaching these roleplays like I approach DND, so I DO NOT expect posts on a daily basis, however I DO expect you to try to post regularly, and also to make an effort to collaborate with others in finding days and times that work for many of us to get together and push aspects of the story forward. I will obviously make exceptions for life events (including midterms and finals), but do try to keep in touch with me and the group.

7. Is STILL my favorite number.

8. Have fun. Failure to do so will result in an invasion of Eastern Europe. Prussia, Poland, the Baltics, the Slavs, all the way till I get to Russia and eventually fail to win the snowball fight.

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These characters are currently marked as available. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie "Why do good people never have power?"
Character Portrait: Peter Radovan "My gun will settle the debate before your words can."
Character Portrait: Vincent Roberts "Non mihi, non tibi, sed Nobis."
Character Portrait: Zilas Black A Hero and a Villain, his mind has long since been subjected to madness.
Character Portrait: Bashemath
Bashemath played by MartinVole
An experiment with black blood that can reanimate the dead.
Character Portrait: Xander
Xander played by MartinVole
A hulking and lanky experiment that possesses the ability to "anchor" himself in space.
Character Portrait: Alexis Graves Cyborg Merc for hire
Character Portrait: Victor Bentley "Ambition is rewarded only when action is taken."

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These poor, unfortunate souls were once a part of this great world, but have been abandoned. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?

View All »Places in Commedia dell'arte

Earth, 2102 AD

Earth, 2102 AD by Lord Saethos

"How did we ever let it get this bad?"

New York City

New York City by Lord Saethos

"Can a city that never sleeps ever be a city of dreams?"

Pacifica City

Pacifica City by Lord Saethos

Jewel of the Ocean, Hope of the Future.

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Commedia dell'arte

[Lord Saethos] Absolute, unrestricted, inhuman brutality. That is the only thing that is known without a doubt about Commedia dell'arte. Who they are, and what they want, however, are entirely unknown.

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Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan
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Undisclosed Location, Northern Wisconsin

The rain was coming down hard when Arthur had arrived at the scene, the water already beginning to pool into large muddy patches across the area. Plenty of trees in this part of Wisconsin, but the investigation was looking at this clearing, where yet another brutalized body has turned up. Report says some campers came across it, a father and his young son. What the report didn't say was what a mess it would be.

Arthur knelt down beside the body, observing every nick and cut on the skin, every bruise, every puncture. It'd be a wonder if there was a drop of blood left in this guy. And then of course there were the teeth marks, and the strange hoof prints that had been left out of the report.

"Beautiful night ain't it Arthur?" The voice that had called out came from a man standing off to the side, who'd spent a fair amount of time silently observing things for himself. "Almost makes you wish we hadn't been dragged into the middle of nowhere to see nothing new."

"Good to see you too Peter." Arthur mumbled in response. "What's the story on the prints and other strange marks? It's looking like some kind of cervine was involved in this? That's... New I guess."

Peter shook his head hearing this, the feelings of annoyance starting to throb in his mind like a headache. "Yeah, well maybe we're dealing with gene manipulating deer, I dunno and I don't personally care. You think we'll be able to figure out who this guy is?"

Arthur nodded from side to side, signaling there was a good chance. "Well he's still got his face, and if we look a bit closer... Yep, looks like he's got teeth still. If this guy is anyone we should know, we will know soon enough." Arthur stood back up, looking around the area. "You know why they called us out here Peter? I mean, a murder is a murder you know. Yet they decide we're needed all the way out in Wisconsin-"

"Shut it Arthur." Peter monotonously snapped at his partner. "I don't want to hear any more about this being that 'cult' or 'gang's' doing. I'm getting sick of hearing about them, really and truly." Peter produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one up, and began puffing away at it. "I'm not saying any of that to be rude Arthur, but honestly, it's a bunch of sensationalism. A couple crimes are committed, someone produces some 'evidence' linking a creepy looking group to it, and suddenly you've got an online joke that's become a real life conspiracy. I mean the crimes don't even ever fit together, some of the evidence contradicts each other, and this? A deer?"

Arthur stood back up, looking around at the ground, the body, and the trees on the outskirts of the clearing, shaking his head slowly. "Honestly Peter, I have no clue. I'm as lost about this as you, and neither of us even know why we're out here..." He sighed, before looking at the body once more. "Well at least one thing seems certain at this point.

Peter cocked an eyebrow hearing this, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth a moment. "And what's that partner?"

With a look back at his partner, Arthur smirked. "Some of the people doing this are the same." He pointed to the body. "Some of the cuts and teeth marks... I can already tell I've seen them at other scenes before." Arthur looked back to Peter now, his gaze a bit more serious. "We're hunting these people down. That's the job we've been given. To somehow find Commedia dell'arte, or whoever it is that's responsible for this."

There was a slight eye roll as Peter walked over to Arthur. "Look, I'm not trying to insult you over this stuff. You and me have been through a lot together Arthur, we both know that. I just don't want you getting caught up in some wild goose chase, especially if any of this ends up being legit and gets targets on our backs." He smirked slightly as he put a hand on Arthur's shoulder and leaned in closer to him. "Look, we've done all we can here for tonight. The evidence has already been pretty well taken care of, we're not doing much good beyond that now. There's a plane that's heading back to NYC in 3 hours. I think we can make it there in time, if we hustle now. So come on, let's head back home."

Arthur shrugged mildly in agreement. "I guess that's as good an idea as any." His eyes lingered over the body, and the clearing once more, his mind trying to recreate a horror he would rather wish to not see. "Can't be any worse than this place..." His words trailed off as his eyes watched the strange hoof prints on the ground, seeing them fade as he and Peter began to make their way back to NYC.


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Character Portrait: Zilas Black
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Unnamed Factory, Unimportant Location:

Smash! Clatter clatter!

If anyone around was even going to bother walking in this area, they might hear the sounds of violence and gangs. They would hear the sounds of broken bottles and metal bats. But then, they might also hear the voices of the future victims.

"Clarke! They are getting closer!"

"Clara! Stay behind me! I will protect you!"

It was two young children that were the supposed victims. It might seem strange for sure, but this was a calculated attack. Recently, other groups had been getting more of a ruthless status, so they decided to correct that mistake, and they figured this was the best way to do this. These two siblings never did anything wrong, even as the large man raised his bat. But in this world, image and fear was important.

Yes, he would swing his metal bat into their skulls and become the true king of ruthlessness.


And yet, a single voice made everyone freeze, if only for a moment. The gang leader, and the various members with him, turned around to see Zilas Black with a confident grin on his face.

"Well, that would just be a waste. I know, you two!" Zilas said, looking over to the eleven year old boy Clarke and his nine or ten year old sister Clara....clearly whoever named them was going for soem sort of theme. "How would you like to live as my servants? To be honest, its really hard to clean my entire home myself so I have been considering it for some time. Well? Being able to live in exchange for serving me?"

Of course, Zilas actually hated people who would pick on, and especially experiment on, children, so he was always going to help regardless. But Zilas was still selfish, and wanted to get something out of this.

Unfortunately, Clarke just saw what he believed to be his only ray of hope, so he decided to take it.

"Yes yes! So please, save us!"

The other gang members looked around confused, not seeing how Zilas could possibly kill them, and so they started to run towards him...but then the one who was closest to him seemed to explode for no discernable reason, and the second one was knocked back by the force of the blow.

"Now now, lets be patient here. You, how about you have a chair?"

Suddenly, an old metal chair flew through the air and smashed into the man's skull. At the same time, one man's arms who was wearing these obnoxious metal bracelets. It was a lot easier to telekinetically control objects rather then people, though Zilas could do both.

At this point, Zilas seemed pretty scary now....although in truth, he actually had a poker face on. No, he expected he could kill them all, and was prepared to do so but...why did that first guy explode? Even Zilas had no clue what happened there? Did that guy have grenades on him or something, and Zilas hit them with a telekinetic blast? That would explain everything, except why they had the grenades. Well, given everything that goes on in the world, Zilas was sure illegal weapons were traded all the time, but grenades seemed a bit too difficult to procure.

He made a mental note for later, look into illegal weapons distribution. Maybe, he would have use for this guy after all. He still had some empty cells on his ship.

Either way, Zilas still had some thugs. It looks like one of them finally had the smart idea to try and take hostages, a first considering so far all they did was act poorly. Zilas teleported over there, and unleashed psychokinetic bolts at once while creating a barrier between them. The comical scene of watching a man smash into a wall was also quite soothing for Zilas.

Though, when a wrench came from behind and started beating him to death, while his partner fell after being killed by psychokinetic bolts, that was pretty much it.

"I give F. First off, their response time was sloppy. Secondly, I was here for some time before they even noticed me, moving things into place. Third, they had guns, and they didn't use them at the start? And, it took them that long to think of using hostages? Terrible, absolutely terrible. Its like they were intentionally trying to fluke this fight".

"Well...they do usually rely on raw power rather then strategy..."

"Huh...well, didn't do them much help here. Had they bothered thinking things through, this would not have been so easy for me. Or you know, if some of them wore body armor and didn't just carry grenade...oh, right. There is that other bothersome group, I heard a rumor they were doing trades with weapons brokers to...this guy, he is the leader right?"

Clarke just nodded at Zilas' words. Zilas waved his hand and the wrench fell to the ground before it could finish the guy off. After that, he picked up Clarke, Clara, and then kicked his foot into the nearly dead guy.

"Well then, maybe I can get some information from him in an interrogation. And a deal is a deal, remember that".

The siblings gulped as he said that, but in truth Zilas had another reason for doing this. If they had run here, instead of home or somewhere else, and given their appearance, ZIlas was sure they were orphans on the street. Given how chaotic things were getting, especially in this area where apparently they had grenades now, it didn't feel right for him to leave them in such a dangerous place.

And then, he teleported them all away....where they would all subsequently puke afterwards. Teleportation is something you have to get used to, the first time is always unpleasant. Even Zilas puked his first time.

A few days later, and he learned about the arms dealer that had given them their weapons, and that this person was apparently going to New York to make more deals.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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"Get away from me!" a man's voice cried out, in a dimly lit New York back-alley. It was barely audible over the heavy downpour of rain as a lone vagrant ran from an unseen pursuer. The man was was absolutely terrified, half drunk, and was nearly stumbling over his own feet as he scrambled out towards the road. It was his hope that he could escape into public eyes. But he couldn't keep it up, he had to stop to catch his breath, gasping and coughing, looking back at the alley behind him. He laughed hoarsely to himself, a half-crazed kind of laugh. "Just my nerves playing tricks on my brain..." he muttered, leaning against the wall with a sigh. Reaching into his ragged coat he pulled out a bottle, popping the lid and tipping it back to his lips.

"Tsk, that's bad for your liver, you know?" a soft female voice said, somewhat muffled as something snagged the bottle from his hand. That something was a tentacle of some sort, coming from an average height humanoid female in a black full-body suit. The man froze in response, refusing to even look at the figure, the look on his face frozen in horror. With a sudden twist of his body, he threw out a hand and produced a burst of steam and swung around, arms flailing, to run around the other way, but only hit another, taller figure, and fell onto his back causing a splash of water, and is knocked cold. The female immediately kneels down and leans over the man checking his pulse. "Geez, Xander, we need to be careful!"

"I am sorry, Bashemath, it was not my intention. He was behaving erratically," the tall figure responded. His voice strange, masculine but the tone was somewhat monotone, soft, and somewhat... distorted, not as deep as would be fitting to his body. The figure, Xander, squated down and propped himself on his knuckles. The figure, while... sort of human-like, was otherwise very tall, gangling body and arms, also fully suited but in a considerably different style, serving a different purpose. Xander, scanned over the body of the man. "The damage is superficial, he will survive. Besides, this simplifies acquisition."

The female, Bashemath huffed slapping her hands on her lap. "It's the principle of the thing! But... I suppose you are right... just, we can't go around hurting people, alright?"

Xander hoisted the man over his shoulder and stood up. Looking down at Bashemath, he simply nodded and held out one of his long arms, prompting her to climb up onto his arm and was hoisted onto his shoulder as well.

"Hey, Xander... we are doing right, right?" Bashemath asked.

"We are not violating our protocol," Xander answered.

"Not quite what I mean," Bashemath responded, laying her head against his shoulder.

"Left to own devices, this one would have died of any number of diseases, or alcohol poisoning, or murdered, or subject to a hit-and-run, or, likely a combination of all scenarios," Xander answered, more in depth.

"Again, not what I meant, but... all the same, thank you Xander," she responded with a short sigh.

"Should I include the potential for lethal animal attacks as well?" Xander asked.

Bashemath laughed. "What? No! I get it, okay, point made," she said, patting Xander on the head. "Lets just deliver the guy before he gets sick from all this rain, okay?"

"Understood," he responded. Undaunted by the weight of the two passengers, he turned and took off towards and unknown destination to deliver their captive, to a benefactor shrouded in mystery from the public eye.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan
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As the plane started to make its descent on New York, Arthur couldn't help but admire the skyline a bit. The city was big now, incredibly so. Old buildings like the Empire State Building were dwarfed next to some of the new ones that had been built, and many other areas had to be ripped up to fit in more places to live for its growing population. The ghettos and slums were nothing to admire either, but this was home for now. Whether Arthur liked it or not.

Peter sat reading the news paper, mostly quiet and keeping to himself. "Looks like our Commander in Chief is busy once again." He said mostly neutrally. What he was referring to specifically was the threats by the President to shutdown the government. Bickering over funding, probably a lot of it a result from the runaway poverty.

Arthur nodded, partly to Peter and himself. "They say jump, we ask how high."

There was a smirk from Peter, thinking over some of the 'personal' business they had to take care of in the next few days. "Yeah, well that's why we have our independent operations isn't it Arthur?" His partner remained silent. Peter sighed slightly and went back to reading his paper.


After the plane had touched down, Arthur and Peter made their separate ways, agreeing it would probably be best to meet the next day and grab some coffee. Of course, coffee meant business, and business meant (usually) either dealing to people or dealing with people. Neither of which he relished.

Arthur had picked up his car from the airport and had started to make his way home. It was getting late, and he knew he should sleep. But he also knew he couldn't right now. He missed his turn off (intentionally) and continued to another part of the downtown area. After probably a 6 or 7 minute drive further (the traffic was easing up by this time of night), Arthur pulled up in front of a diner. It was old, and a bit worse for wear looking, but it was his favorite spot, and a place where he felt comfortable. He parked the car, got out, and went inside.

Without waiting for any indication from a server, Arthur took a seat at an empty table near the window, sitting in the seat facing away from the door. It was pretty much empty in there at this time, but most places stayed open late these days, partly for security and partly because there can be (on most nights) enough business to make it worth it. Arthur had pulled out his phone and started to browse, pretty much anything and everything. News, social apps, even some profiles for 'interested persons'. He quickly placed his phone down as he caught movement at the side of his eye however. Turning and looking up, Arthur smiled at the waitress who'd just arrived at his table.

"Hey Tracy, good to see you again.

The girl flashed him a big, friendly grin. "Good to see you again too gramps, how's the funeral business these days?"

He smirked. "Is this how you flirt with all your customers?"

Tracy gave him an exaggerated look of annoyance. "Only to the old men that go days without coming in to see me."

"Well I'm sorry Tracy, works been busy, so I'll just have to make it up to you now. Also, I'm only 43 Tracy, not an old man. And what are you even, 27?"

This time, she exaggerated the look of taking immense offense. "I'll have you know I'm only 25 sir! How very rude of you to insinuate I'm old!"

There was a slight chuckle from Arthur. "Alright, sorry. Guess I'd better be coming in more often then to make that up to you too."

"You better! Girl starts to feel like she just isn't important when you ignore her like that!"

"Alright alright, I'll be in again more, I promise." He said with a pleasant sigh.

"Fine, it's a date then." She said playfully.

"Oh so that's what you're looking for is it?" Arthur asked with his own exaggerated 'machismo'.

Tracy grinned and bent towards him. "Only if you keep coming in and keep tipping." She said with a wink.

Arthur nodded, the smile not yet faded from his face. "Well then, how about you start me off with a coffee. Hold the sass though."

"Rhymes with something I'm sure you'd much rather have." She responded with a small laugh as she went back to the kitchen.

The smile stuck with Arthur for a few more moments. Tracy was a sweet girl, though seriously wasting her time. He knew she had some brains, probably as good as her looks. Working in a diner in New York was never going to get her anywhere, so he seriously hoped she changed that.

Something else caught Arthur's attention, outside of the coffee shop. It was Peter, standing there beside his own car, giving a wave, and making his way to the door. What was he doing here so late? They had agreed on business tomorrow, not tonight.

And then everything stood still for a moment.

Both Arthur and Peter's eyes widened. It took a moment for it to register with both of them, but they had just heard a massive explosion. Peter looked around frantically, trying to get a view of what was going on. He gave up after a moment though, the buildings obscuring his vision too much, so he ran inside instead.

"Arthur, did you just hear that?" After Arthur gave a slight and sullen nod, Peter looked around the room somewhat frantically again. "That was either really close, or really bit. What was that?"

Tracy entered the room again, her eyes stretched in shock. "W-what was that?" She asked, the sound of building anxiety clinging to her voice.

Arthur looked around in complete confusion before checking his phone again and going to the news. Peter had turned on a TV in the diner and began flipping through channels. Nothing was coming up on either for about 5, maybe 10 minutes. Then finally something appeared.


"Just moments ago, a massive explosion erupted out of a New York City food supply building, just a few blocks away from where we are reporting. We don't know what has happened yet, but we know this specific building is one of the very crucial ones New York has set up to help deal with food shortages and poverty. The Fire Department, Police, and Medical Services are on their way as we speak, but still no news as to what has happe- Wait... We have breaking news, which may be related to this incident. At almost the same time as the explosion here in New York City, there was a similar explosion in a food production building in Pacifica City, in the South China Sea. We do not know yet what has happened, but some sources are indicating they may be connected. We-"


The connection went fuzzy for a moment as something else appeared on screen. It was a man, wearing a 'comedy' mask, standing in front of some kind of flag with Arabic writing on it. He spoke in Arabic, but there were subtitles in English below it.

"People of the world, for too long have you all lived in degeneracy and vice. You have perverted yourselves and the ground you walk upon. Today, our glorious revolutionary group takes action against this disgrace. We have attacked just two very important food buildings in the cities of New York and Pacifica today. This is a small taste of what is to come, but a reminder of the power we wield. Today, we condemn you to hunger. In a month, perhaps starvation. And later, total breakdown of your disgusting societies. There shall be a rise of the true, pure Islamic State, and all others shall be destroyed! Victory shall be ours!"

The screen went black for a few moments before returning to the news, and the startled news anchor.


Arthur looked over at Peter, who stood staring at the screen, jaw wide open in shock. "THEY AREN'T TERRORISTS!" Arthur shouted, slamming his fist on the table.

Peter looked over to Arthur, still in shock at this point. "I- Look, they pretty much just said they are Arthur!"

Anger and annoyance only continued to build in Arthur. "No, THAT was not 'Islamic Terrorism', that was misdirection! These... PSYCHOS are trying to... to..."

"To do what Arthur? This is the BIGGEST thing we've seen as evidence of them, but... I mean this could be ANY terrorist group putting on a creepy mask to scare people! An internet joke stolen by-"

Arthur put a hand up to cut Peter off. "Look Peter, with all the weird stuff that's been happening, you and I BOTH know something else is going on here. I don't know if they did this, or why they would, but I know that IF this group is real, THIS is part of their game." Arthur looked back at the TV, the vitriol only growing inside of him, knowing just how far these people have gone, and how far they'll go. "This wasn't political. It wasn't religious. This... This was chaos. It's their tool. Their plan. Probably even their goal. And they are far from finished..."


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Character Portrait: Zilas Black
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It had been a few weeks since that day, when they were both saved and enslaved, that Clarke and Clara woke up onboard a setting that was becoming more and more familiar to them each passing day. Yes, they were at the mercy and service of the one who rescued them, a boy named Zilas Black, or at least that is what he called himself.

However, as Clarke was waking up early, he and his sister resting in a nice large bed wearing two oversized shirts to sleep in, it wasn't really that bad. The first day had been a bit shocking, but it helped reveal Zilas' true nature to him. Incidentally, the reason that Clarke and Clara slept in the same bed was not a lack of beds, but rather having grown up on the streets, they always slept next to each other for protection. Even though they were safe here, it was not a habit they could kick easily.

Clarke still replayed the events of when they first arrived in his head sometimes, though...

The moment Zilas brought them there, he dragged that man off telekinetically and threw him into a holding cell. It appeared that this flying ship, the Moonray, was both his base and his home, as well as his mode of transportation, and was able to cloak and hide itself. But it was when he got back did the confusion happen. The first thing Zilas did was make them get out of their clothes, all of them. At first, Clarke thought maybe he was interested in something else. He had saved their lives sure, but it gave Clarke pause for a moment.

But then, Zilas assured him it was not what he was thinking, and Clarke remembered how people who did think like that usually looked and felt. Zilas didn't give that feeling at all. Instead, after they were naked, he made them use a decontamination shower twice, together with him to make sure everything got washed. Clarke still had some concern, especially when Zilas took them to another large bath afterwards to help them clean off. But the third thing he did to him confirmed the new theory Clarke had: Zilas was looking out for them.

That was because he gave them a bunch of immune system boosters and vitamins to take. Since Clarke and Clara had been orphans, he had been concerned that they might be suffering or carrying something really bad, and also figured, correctly, they had not had a proper bath in years.

As for the clothes, he had them go through their own decontamination and then wash cycle, on the off chance they could be saved, but figured he should just get new ones for them anyways. Since it seemed like the ship was almost always in the air, the only way in or out was through Zilas' teleportation.

And then, he taught advanced knowledge and training, and various other things such as things vital to knowing how to serve him. He could be insane, utterly mad at times, and merciless. Clarke and Clara saw what he could do, and how powerful and dangerous he could be. The training program they did could also sometimes be strict and merciless, but they had already agreed and he did save his life.

Clarke decided to let Clara sleep a bit more, and got dressed into some sweats to work out in as he started to do a morning jog around the ship. Normally, he tried to wake up earlier then Zilas as part of being a servant, but during his run he heard activity inside the tech room, at least that was what Zilas called it. It was full of computers, news monitoring devices, but it also had some tables and couches and even its own fridge even though the kitchen was close by. Maybe it was meant for a team to use to plan covert ops or something?

As he checked inside, he found Zilas looking at the news...he didn't look upset, but he didn't look happy either. As an orphan on the street dedicated to protecting himself and his sister, Clarke could pick up on these things...

Zilas stared at the news monitor in annoyance until he finally noticed Clarke was there. It looked like he was still wearing his running clothes, so he was probably still in the middle of his morning run. Clarke and his sister, both were already showing so much potential. It made Zilas a bit happier, remembering that he saved them.

"Master Zilas? What is the matter?"

"Well, it looks like the group I had been keeping a watch out for, those clowns...what were their name?"

"Which one? Their official name, Commedia Dellarte, or the one you gave them, Gibberish Clowns?"

"Both is fine..." Zilas said. In truth, he just wanted to see if Clarke remembered. "Anyways, it looks like one of the reasons they were in contant with Arms Dealers was for explosives...look at the news".

Zilas turned on the news, to where Clarke could see the messages laid out before them. The subtitles helped for sure, but...Clarke noticed something, probably what Zilas was testing him on.

"It could just be the way he speaks, but...the subtitles are to distract from that likely possibility right?"

"A plus Clarke, as always. YOu know, for an Orphan you know quite a bit".

"We lived in an old library for some time. It was dangerous outside, so we did nothing but read".

"Ah. Anyways, yes yes. Most likely, the person speaking is not actually some radical islamist. Because there are subtitles, most people focus on that, but the accent...while yes, it COULD be how they speak, or a number of other things, the most likely answer is that they are not Arabic but reading phonetic translations".

"So, the point is chaos..."

For a moment, Clarke considering commenting on why Zilas disliked this group who seemed similar to himself, but held his tongue and didn't say something so stupid. For one thing, Zilas always made sure his actions would not hurt children. From what Clarke and Clara heard so far, they had a rough understanding of what Zilas went through. Hell, when they bathed together they saw the scars.

"Yes, but chaos in the worst possible way. There are differences between various types of chaos, and this...this is clearly a bad type. I am heading into the city, see what the first responders and such find out, and do some investigating myself".

"Do you want me to prepare anything?"

"Yes, I want you to mop and scrub the north hallways naked for thinking for a moment I was similar to them".

"Wait, what..."

"I can read people too Clarke. Otherwise, I will be fine. Oh, and you have to do all of Clara's chores too today for not immediately admitting and accepting it. She gets the day off".

"Yes sir..."

And so, with those words, Zilas set off...although to be fair, given there was only them on the ship, and no one else would find them, the only real part of that punishment was giving Clarke the extra work.

That said, Zilas also did it to distract himself. After all, those facilities they blew up helped children, a lot of them. Therefore, Zilas was actually really pissed off right now...he might just go and kill someone to blow off steam.


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Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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Having arrived on scene, Bashemath walked over to get a closer look at the disaster zone. Xander stayed behind, even in disguise he was still much too tall, much too intimidating. Dust still stirred in the air, officers who had arrived on scene had to wear masks to keep from inhaling possible toxic elements in the air, leaving nothing to risk against what seemed to be terrorists. They were holding back a growing crowd, some weeping for their friends and loved ones who most likely lie dead or dying in the rubble, others yell at the police like they could have prevented this. All the while this is going on, Bashemath snuck her way to the zone, observing the mostly crumbled structure, slightly shaking. Due to the dust and debris carried through the air, and the cover of dark, the officers are left oblivious to her presence

"Why?" she uttered, a slight quiver in her voice. She swallows her fear, she would fulfill her prime directive. She closed her eyes and focused, as a multitude of eyes open elsewhere as figures from the shadows of the streets began to scurry towards her. Vermin and other animals, once dead, reanimated and scattered throughout the city as her sentinels, now by her power came to the call of her will, and, in multitude began to secretly dig into the rubble. Through their eyes she could see, through their ears she could hear, through their bodies she could feel, and through them she could tragically sense many dead... a crestfallen moan escaping her throat, but soon a gasp, as deeper... stifled breath. She reaches out her hands into the air, cupping them upwards as if she was holding something. The creatures, though small, collectively move the rubble and begin to free the entrapped bodies, carefully moving them to the surface with careful surgical guidance. Bashemath herself seemed to dance in a trance, flailing her arms into the air, eyes still closed.

"Shit, have the rats already began to eat at them?" an officer muttered, having noticed the vermin squirming their way through as the dust began to clear. The sight before him was more than what he had imagined, as the rats were exhuming the victims in a systematic manner, and placing them next to each other. He nudged another officer who swatted his hand aside, on edge from the carnage, but paused as the scene caught his eye. "The hell... is this?"

Running over to the scene the officers swung at the rats, and the vermin scattered out of sight. Kneeling over, the officers checked the victims, finding they have faint heartbeats and shallowed breath. Their bodies covered bruises and gashes, but alive all the same. Without hesitation, they began to signal to the medics.

Bashemath watching as they placed them on stretchers slipped quietly back away from the scene, certain she had not been noticed. They would see it as a... freak event of nature, that maybe the rats intended to feed on the food buried underneath and inadvertently freed the survivors. None of that mattered to her, however, she was only concerned with fulfilling her directive.


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan
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It was now approximately 20 minutes after the initial explosion had been heard. Arthur and Peter had quickly left the diner, with Tracy and the other staff being ordered by Arthur to get to their homes quickly, and to make whatever necessary preparations were needed to keep them safe. The two agents had taken their respective cars and headed towards the approximate location of the explosion, but the 'panic traffic' was making the roads more difficult to navigate.

By the time they finally arrived, the building had collapsed completely. Rubble was strewn everywhere, some people wandered the area in a sort of daze, totally lost in shock from what they had seen, while other people... Weren't so lucky.

There was something of a light in Peter's eyes as he glanced around the rubble and bodies. Looking at the ruins of the old building, a theory was building in his mind. "Arthur, this wasn't just something random... This building was supposed to be resistant to most conventional explosives. Even regular demolition explosives would have had some trouble with the building's resistance... This was military grade."

Arthur's face was somber and serious as he walked up next to Peter, keeping his voice as low as possible. "Is this anything that came from you?" He asked directly.

Peter rolled his eyes slightly. "Us Arthur, let's not dance around that, okay? And no. Definitely not us. I've had access to some big stuff before, but this... This would have taken someone with some more 'elite' connections than I have." He looked around the area once more, still somewhat stunned and unsettled by the carnage. "Arthur, there may just end up being something to your conspiracies."

Some chatter could be heard a little ways away from Arthur and Peter, officers remarking on the strange 'occurrence' that had happened, rats carrying survivors out of the rubble. They were beginning to get more talkative, and coming up with their own 'explanations' for what they saw. Arthur and Peter began to make their way over to the group.

"I bet it was one of those f***ing witch people, rats don't act like that! This is why we should be tossing them into a-"

"Officer," Peter said in an even voice. "Have you ever wanted to know what it tastes like to swallow your own teeth? Cause if you do, then by all means, please keep talking." The even, confident, monotone to his voice was almost a little scary in that moment.

The officers were a little stunned for a moment as the one who'd been talking fumbled a response. "Y-you're not supp-"

Peter cut him off by simply flipping his FBI badge. "Actually we are. You boys do your job and keep your mouths shut, and I'll do my job and won't harass your teeth." He kept walking, signalling Arthur to follow him to get a better inspection of the area, and whatever it was the cops had been gossiping about.

That's when they both saw it, the rats skittering away from some bodies that had all been laid out on the ground. They could see a few at least were breathing, so it looked like survivors. Paramedics were closely rushing in to gather them up and pull them back to a safer location before transport to a hospital.

"You think this was actually the work of a magic user?"

"Hard to say. To be honest this is a first for me, so we're treading some very new water here. Best to be-" Peter's attention was caught by something moving near an alleyway.

Arthur noticed as well. It was a man, dressed in very strange clothes. He wore a sweater vest, a pair of brown trousers, and a light blue dress shirt. As Arthur thought about it, he started to get almost a '1950's dad' vibe from the person. But when the man turned, he was greeted by that unmistakable grinning comedy mask. "Peter, we got a perp!"

The oddly dressed man started running down the alleyway, and both Peter and Arthur chased after him. Adrenaline pumped through both of them as they pushed themselves to the max, wanting to be absolutely certain they caught one of the psychos responsible for this. They turned down the alley and ran for a few more seconds before coming to an abrupt stop. The man was just standing there, back turned to the two of them.

"HANDS IN THE AIR OR IT'LL BE YOUR BRAINS!" Arthur shouted as both he and Peter trained their pistols on the man.

The man began laughing, slowly and a bit muffled at first, but it got louder and louder, almost hysterical as he turned around. "SMILE!" He shouted as he extended his arm out to them, holding a detonator in his hand.

Both Peter and Arthur began firing like mad, but it was too late. The man had pressed the detonator.

They had been expecting an explosion, and they got one, but not at all what they had been expecting. There was now a fine red mist where the man's head had been before. There was no bone, no flesh, and no sign of the mask either as his body crumpled instantly to the ground.

Arthur unconsciously fell onto his knees, his hands dropping down to his lap, a look of confusion on his face as he tried to process what he had just seen.

Peter put his gun away and pulled out a cigarette. He went over to a dumpster, leaned against it, and lit up. He took a few puffs as he thought over the whole situation too, his face unnaturally calm and collected, and the little spatters of blood on it seemed to be totally unnoticed by him.

"They're... They're completely insane." Arthur sputtered out. "He didn't even bother to try fighting back... Our only suspect so far... He just... How could someone do that?"

"With explosives." Peter said neutrally with a shrug. "Either in the mask somewhere, or the mask was made out of it." His voice remained monotone.

"That's not funny Peter..." Arthur managed to get out from gritted teeth.

Peter shrugged again, nodding to the body. "He seemed to think it was." A rat then scurried by, followed by another, and another, until it looked like dozens were running past the two agents. Peter curiously followed their run with his eyes, noticing two figures standing in the distance.

"Peter, those aren't cops."


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Character Portrait: Zilas Black
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While most people had rushed off to the scene of the incident that had just occured, although Zilas could get there if he wanted to, he decided to leave the footwork and the mass evidence collecting and scene inspection to the police and government types. Not that he trusted them, but that he didn't feel like bothering with them or doing work he didn't need to. At least not yet.

No, where he went actually was convienent for him. He thought he would have to do one first, and then another, but it turned out that two things he wanted to do happened to be doable in the same place.

A nice and simple looking office building, it was the place where various building and construction records for city buildings was kept. It also had its own security as well, due to the fact that terrorists might come here to look for data that would help them commit terrorism. It had ties to various construction and demolition companies as well, so it worked well to have security.

Of course, what no one including the government knew was that it was also owned by the...

"Umm, hey. So do you really call yourself the Neo-Mob? Really?"

It was not predominantly Russian, Irish, or anything like that. It was a lot of criminal organizations that were smaller, but secretly unified and joined together to become this secret Neo-Mob. It was a rather interesting organization style too. To outsiders, even those in the criminal world, it might look like they were seperate individual organizations. This also meant that anything that seemed too high or advanced for a group individually could be achieved collectively.

Of course, Zilas who had thoroughly interrogating many past legal limits using his powers knew the truth, though it was only from that last guy that he finally had a solid lead on where to search. Which was why he was able to enter and deal with them, because he expected them but they had not expected him.

The person who he had psychokinetically blasted into a wall gave a meek nod with the last of his strength.

"Huh. Anyways, this really does work well for me that you have a base here you know?"

He asked that to the man who appeared to be in charge, that he had cornered in his office. There were two reasons Zilas was here. First, he was going to access the records and see who had gotten access to those building schematics. New York was a prime terror target, so they were extremely paranoid with records like these. If someone accessed those building records, even if it was a residential apartment building, there would be a trail.

And second, these were also the arms dealers that apparently had been moving explosives around. In other words, they were the ones he heard rumors about dealing to people in white masks as well. It was possible they sold the information too.

"So, Mr. Lets play a game. Will you give me what I want first, or will I get bored and throw you out the window first? Let's!"

Hearing those words, and having seen what happened, the man spent no time to save his own skin and give Zilas all the information he wanted, both from computer records and his own memory. The fact that they were using pier 7, the fact that they had sold high quality military explosives that were not limited to grenades, and of course the records of who had access to the plans. From what Zilas learned, they keep the two businesses seperate, so they didn't sell out the building plans as that would make them tracable. In other words, if these people got the plans from here, and Zilas found that highly likely, then they accessed them through legitimate channels. He hoped something in this data would help him.

That said, Zilas started to hear sirens in the area. He wondered if the police, or even the FBI maybe, got the same idea as him, or if they had gotten reports from the area. Still, once Zilas got the information he needed, he figured now would be a good time to check on what the cops had found so far. Maybe something interesting, different from the reports and maps he had, that could shed some light.


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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"O-oh," Bashemath uttered, upon hearing a rather wet explosion, freezing in her tracks as a rat ran up her shoulder. Slowly she looked back over her shoulder at two figures who stared directly towards them. Based on their clothes and general stance, she deduced they were some kind of law enforcement.

Xander turned, his extraordinarily tall form casting a shadow on the agents. "Problematic," he muttered. He began to menacingly approach them, his long arms raising up, but Bashemath tugged on his coat causing him to stop. He paused and looked over at her. She simply shook her head slowly, and, as if understanding his partner's intent, lowered his arms and stood simply as a statue as she walked ahead of him.

"Please forgive my brother, he's just looking out for me," Bashemath said, her tone as friendly as possible. She knew there was no getting out of this encounter, and she wasn't about to let Xander cause harm to people at random. She froze in place, as she now got a better sight of the agent, an audible crack in her throat as she slowly pointed at him, or rather, splatter on his clothes."I-is that..?"

"Blood," Xander bluntly explained. "What is in that alley is most likely not for your eyes."

"What happened..?" she asked, her voice having an increasingly distressed tone to it. She then looked directly to Arthur. Reading his face and body language, she determined that he was also distressed, likely more-so. Based on apparent age, it wasn't deemed healthy to remain in a stressed state. Without any resistance she slowly raised up her arms. "We submit to your authority. Whatever gets him to sit down the soonest," she said, making a motion to Arthur.


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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Arthur's face contorted mildly in confusion. Firstly, why would ANYONE 'submit to authority' of cops, feds, or anyone else? And secondly, they both looked incredibly strange. Arthur assumed the smaller one was a female, who seemed relatively normal in shape (despite her odd clothes, even by modern standards), but many other things about her seemed off. And the other, the giant... Well he was just downright bizarre.

"Alright, you two just stay right there and don't move. Alright? You play cool and we won't shoot." Peter responded with that unnerving neutral tone.

'How is he not even surprised?' Arthur thought internally. 'He looks completely unfazed, like this is an every day thing...'

Peter pulled out a com device, with an ear piece and a glass part that went in front of his left eye. "Control, we have some... Suspects we need to take in, might be regarding the terrorist attack here in New York. We're about a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty meters away from the site of the attack. Requesting an airlift out with the suspects. Bring something... Spacious." When he finished he gave a nod to Arthur and put the com device back in his jacket. "You should probably sit down Arthur, take a load off while we wait."

He nodded in agreement before going to sit down on a trash bin, not taking his eyes off the two strange beings for a long while. When he finally did, it was to look over at Peter, when he noticed the blood was still on his face. He stared for a bit until Peter turned to look at him.

Peter cocked an eyebrow, confused about why Arthur was staring at him so intently. When Arthur signed about something on his face, Peter did a quick check with his hand. Now it finally registered that he had blood from the terrorist on him. He turned away for a moment as he pulled out a handkerchief and quickly wiped his face clean, placing the piece of fabric back in his jacket when he finished.

Arthur looked back at the strange things again, a bit transfixed by them. He didn't say anything, he couldn't find any words worth using.

"Well I hope everyone here likes sight seeing. Sounds like we're heading to D.C. tonight." He leaned back again, pistol out and resting casually against his lap, with no intent showing beyond that he was intent on being prepared.


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Zilas Black Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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Bashemath stood still, not moving from her position, just as she was told. She looked around between the two agents. She then locked focus back on Arthur, who has not said much, unlike his unusually composed partner. She reached over for her helmet and slowly removed it. Her face was mostly human, aside from the somewhat odd discoloration of her skin, eyes, and some dark splotches on her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, to be expected from the helmet. For the man's own sanity, she kept her ears covered for now, and just gave a smile, lowering one of her arms to just awkwardly wave at him.

Xander looked over at his sibling. "Why have you removed your mask?"

"I figured a face would offer some comfort, the man is utterly distraught," she responded. "His partner is quite stoic by comparison, he possesses a much more controlled composure. This likely isn't his... how they say? First rodeo?"

"Is he negligent towards the psychological needs of his partner?"

"What? No, my theory is that he feels it more appropriate to establish control on the situation with the least emotional response possible, a... learned defensive process, he's focused on the task at hand. Not too unlike you, actually. But this is mere speculation," she continues, waving her hand around a bit to Xander. She then turned her attention back to the two agents. "I'm Bashemath by the way, and this is Xander, hmmm... those are pretty complex... um, perhaps... nicknames would help?" She gave an awkward crooked smile and shrugged.

Xander turned his head slightly, sensing another human-sized being alone on the streets. Possibly not a threat, however.


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Zilas Black Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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"Ehhhhhh~" Zilas said, watching from afar with eyes as if he had found a new toy to play with. Of course, this was while he was monitoring the scene from far away. Far enough to not be detected, and to drink a nice glass of wine.

"Should you even be drinking wine?" Clark asked over the comms, even though Zilas had not told him anything. "And what new toys did you find this time?"

"Clarke, why are you on comms? Wasn't it Clara's turn?"

"Remember, you gave me all her tasks today, naked".

Zilas was pretty sure he only said that for the hallway...and he was pretty half hearted about it. Well, that was Clarke's mistake. He would probably figure it out soon anyways, he was a smart kid...he might also be playing it safe.

Or this was all a joke and he lied right there. Would be interesting to find out which.

"Anyways, why do you ask? Are the older toys getting jealous?"

"No way. Anyways, it got you interested..."

"Well, either my eyesight is getting worse..."

Clarke wanted to comment that he was pretty sure those glasses were fake and he had 20/20 vision, but he didn't feel like invoking any more wraith today.

"...or there are two totally non-normal individuals, getting arrested by two completely normal feds".

"Wait wait! Arrested arrested? Not gassed, or trapped in some cage, or whatever, but with actual handcuffs by real cops?!"


"...amazing, to think the legal system actually still works that do you know for certain though?"

"Aside from personal experience...based on what I see through the scouter, one of them has that sort of face..."

"What sort of face?"

"The face you made when we first met".

"Oh...I guess the police can behave like actual people then also...sometimes...."

Incidentally, Clarke had as little, he might even have less faith, in the legal system then Zilas.

"Clarke, there should be some state of the art police listening programs there somewhere, if they make it to an interrogation room, I want to see that comedy show. Make sure we get the recordings".

" dont even care about the information do you? You just want to see how the interrogators handle this".

"Don't you as well?"

"The popcorn will be ready by the time you get back".

"Excellent, now..."

He changed his view from looking through a scouter, to looking down at the factory where a certain arms dealer was currently taking stock of his finest goods. Maybe, given the additional heat that would pour down soon, he wanted to offload them before he got caught or something, though it looked like a good amount was already missing.

And so, seeing an opportunity, with no one else seemingly around, Zilas teleported behind the man, and tapped him on the shoulder while using his most innocent and childlike voice possible.

"Excuse me, Mr...but could you tell me how you contact the people you have been selling weapons and bombs to, and where their base of operations is if possible?"

At first, the arms dealer would likely be very confused by Zilas' sudden appearance from behind out of nowhere, before finally going into shock. Of course, Zilas was already prepared. When the shock wore off, his smile would soon resemble more of an evil demon that had caught its prey.

And should the man try to raise a hand against him, Zilas would telekinetically blast him, and then perform a full psionic interrogation. Of course, so long as they locked eyes, and he didn't do anything to disrupt it, Zilas planned to do that anyways.

Zilas was very careful, but that did not mean he could not get things done quickly.

(My brain was kinda dying a bit, but I managed! Hope its good!)


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Zilas Black Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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Arthur looked over to the two beings again, taken aback when the female decided to remove part of her helmet and wave at him. 'She... Is she a gene splicer or something? I have never seen anything that severe before...' He thought to himself.

"Peter and Arthur." Was the eased response Arthur's partner made, pointing a hand at himself and Arthur. Peter checked his watch, it'd been about ten minutes since he'd made the call, so he was expecting pickup soon. "Never been good with nicknames myself. How about Bash and Xan? Not exactly clever, but it's been a long day."

There was a nod of agreement from Arthur. "Not trying to be rude or anything, but you do have the right to remain silent you know."

Peter chuckled slightly. "I think my partner just needs some quiet for right now." He looked over towards the two strange figures, a calm smile on his lips. "Much as I'd love to hear more about the two of- Oh well would you look at that." A FBI 'drop ship' began to fly overhead of them, straitening itself out and landing near the entrance of the alleyway.

Arthur sighed slightly, getting back up and unholstering his pistol too. He nodded towards the ship. "Alright you two, make this easy for me. Walk over to the drop ship, get in, and don't make any sudden moves or anything." Arthur's tone was emotionless, and a little tired.

"Oh they won't be causing us any trouble tonight Arthur." Peter said with a slight smile. "Not that I want to make any assumptions, but I don't think that's what these two want at all." Stepping to the side of the alley slightly, Peter extended his arm, pointing it towards the ship that awaited them. "After you."


The weapons dealer looked shocked for a moment, but once his eyes had locked with Zilas, he seemed to become at ease. "W-what? People I've been selling weapons to? You mean the Cartels? Or the mercs?" The man's eyes seemed to wander in a dazed state. "I just give the guns to the guys they send, and they give me the money. It's no big deal." His eyes still wandered, he seemed almost totally lost in the daze.

"Lot's of guys come in and see me, they all just pay the money and take the weapons. Oh! There are those weird folks too, they always cover their faces, never say too much either. Just give me money an-"

The man's head disappeared leaving behind a fine mist of blood and gore, while a large hole exploded in the ground nearby (a result from the .50 caliber round that had passed through the gun dealers head). A few flashes of light could be seen from rooftops nearby, all seemingly aimed at Zilas. They weren't from guns however, but from some kinds of cameras.

In another moment, a knife could be felt at Zilas's throat, as someone began to whisper into his ear. "Now now little one, you're going down the wrong rabbit hole. You've got some fine gifts, but they'd be put to better use investigating someone else. Maybe some strange beings caught by the FBI, hehehehe..." The voice trailed off a bit, and the knife pulled away from Zilas's throat.

The masked, knife wielding figure walked around in front of Zilas, still giggling away as they held something in their hand. "SMILE!" was the last thing said before the white Comedy mask exploded, and the head of the knife wielder with it.

The docks were quiet now. Everything seemed to have ceased. No people moving, no machinery running, just quiet, and the sound of rain.


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Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Zilas Black Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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Bashemath simply nodded, her smile unbroken as she walked in without a fuss. As she walked by into the craft, she took another glance at Arthur, who remained silent, and her smile wavered some. She then looked over at Xander who followed closely after her, his eyes presumably remaining forward. As they enter there was a quiet exchange between the two. "He's... sort of life father, right?" she whispers.

"Far less smiling," he responds quietly. "But those were forced."

"Not always..." she whispered back, but suddenly she heard something, or rather, the rats heard something. The expression on her face suddenly turned grim, her eyes blanked, pupils dilated. She turned to Xander again, her eyes pleading. "Ah a-another murder... I think."

"Not our priority," he responded rather coldly, causing his sister to look away and sit down, becoming somewhat despondent. Xander in turn sits down next to her, just as quietly, a considerable feat for a being of his stature. It was clear that he struggled in dealing with the more altruistic nature of his sibling. "I am... sorry... forgive me?"

"Yes, always."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Zilas Black Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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(Sorry for the delay, school stuff kept getting in the way. Actually, I have a terrible headache right now also, but I have some time so I am doing my best)

The moment the man's head exploded, Zilas put his hood up and ducked behind an object. He was not some fool who would leave himself out in the open, but he had thoroughly checked the surroundings. He was sure of it.

I suppose I should give them credit... he thought while taking out a gun he kept with him. Crude, and often unncessary with his powers, but he had to...

The nthe figure started to speak, putting a knife to his throat. That said, some tension was actually released from him, as the figure continued to speak.

They dont want me dead? No, of course. I am too much of an unknown probably. As crazy as they are, they must realize I am some sort of a threat. If they had been watching, they should know I could escape from this which case, they are not killing me because they dont know if I am alone or not probably. Well, they could just be crazy, but they were cautious enough to go through all this trouble.

At the same time, Zilas watched as the man's head explored before he even had time to restrain and psychically interrogate him.

"Hmmm. Okay then, be that way" he said, with a smirk on his face. "Well now, what to do..."

First off, he definently should NOT do what the crazy terrorists told him to do. Unless, of course, they were looking for a challenge? No, but to fall right into their words was silly. That said, they might be watching him now, waiting to see what he would do...who he would contact.

Wait a second...they knew about the capture? That meant, they were watching the FBI, or those things, as well? Ooooh, you silly, silly made a mistake. You told me you were watching them as well, which means you have people there. Obviously they cant be wearing masks, which means...they could be identified! Sorry Commedia, but you made a fatal mistake.
Even if you planned it out, you dont know my full abilities, especially the ones I trained since I escaped. In other words, if I hunt the ones following the FBI, I can use that to find them. Well, I suppose before I do, I should take care of business here.

Of course, by business, Zilas meant stealing the harddrives, phone, and all other objects of note from the arms dealer. He would also get the paper records, and finally...he copied the fingerprints of both the arms dealer, and the headless man, using some common household supplies, such as tape and all that.

Naturally, he took some DNA samples as well. Now that he thought about it, wasn't there a program to recreate the face from DNA samples?

You want me to play your game, Commedia? Well, let me flip that around. Instead of investigating those two people the FBI caught, I will use the FBI and them as bait, and lure you out really should be more careful what you say...huh? Maybe that man didn't explode his own head, but they exploded it for him so he wouldn't talk anymore? Well, it might get a tad bit trickier if they thats true, but none the less, I can use the logs of the Arms merchant to learn what they have. It would suck if they had missiles I didn't know about and such. Well, I suppose I will have Clarke update me on what the FBI are doing, and use that information to move forward.

Incidentally, the reason Zilas knew the member was not a threat was because there was a good chance they had seen him teleport, and yet instead of slitting his throat immediately, did not do a thing. If Zilas had wanted to, he could have easily escaped that man, but he just kept on talking, so he decided to keep it going, let him think he had the upper hand, and get some information out of him.

And Zilas had a good theory that was worth testing out, so it worked out well.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arthur Mackenzie Character Portrait: Peter Radovan Character Portrait: Zilas Black Character Portrait: Bashemath Character Portrait: Xander
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7am - Washington D.C.

Arthur shuddered periodically as he slept on cheap hallway chair in the offices of the FBI. He'd been exhausted from the day before, and was trying to remedy that with some sleep now, though his dreams continued to show him things he'd rather not have seen.

Peter was standing in another part of the top floor offices, watching a TV that was playing through the news as he sipped away at a coffee and puffed away at a smoke. He hadn't slept at all since yesterday, and was ready too either.

A younger man sitting at a desk close by looked over to Peter, a look of annoyance on his face. "Peter, could you put that out? You know you're not supposed to be doing that in any building, never mind a government one."

Smoke billowed out of Peter's mouth as he turned to look at the young man. He stared him right in the eyes, face totally devoid of emotion, or any real sense that he actually cared about what the boy had to say. "Thomas, please don't interrupt me while I'm having my Canadian Breakfast." Another office worker chuckled before Peter turned to him too. "That wasn't a funny joke Kevin. Stop fake laughing."

Kevin coughed slightly as he embarrassedly settled back in and looked away from everyone in the room. Thomas just felt unnerved by how much Peter didn't seem to care. Lame jokes aside, he always just seemed like nothing in this world had any value to him. If Thomas was being honest, it scared him a little.

Peter continued to watch the TV, but did manage to take a quick look across the room to one of the window-sided offices. It had been converted into an interrogation room for the time being, and both Xander and Bashemath sat in there at the moment. Most of the employees hadn't seen them yet, and those who had were disturbed. The room wasn't conventional, but it was also one of the few rooms that the building had that could accommodate at least Xander's size.

From what one of the higher ups said, they probably wouldn't be able to start the interrogation till about 8 or 8:30, so he was stuck to his coffee and cigarette for a bit longer. Apparently there was going to be some announcements on the TV for last night's bombings soon though, and the President and Congress are both expected to make statements about the government shut down that could be happening today.

There was a lot going on. A lot of chaos, and a lot of people trying to take advantage of it.

Commedia dell'arte: Out Of Character (OOC)

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Re: Commedia dell'arte

I was thinking she is more of a solo act not part of a group

Re: Commedia dell'arte

Butterfly Effect wrote:haha now for the hard part though...

Finding how to best get Alexis in the story. from what i've read it seems like there where terrorist attacks and now the group is investigating them.

Maybe government hired her to help the FBI?

Sorry for taking so long to reply Butterfly! Had a lot going on lately, so just starting to catch up on some of the other roleplays I've been behind on now. Was gonna say, I had an idea for something Alexis could get hired for if you'd like. Was thinking a "Body Guard" job for another corporation, the owner might want some added muscle for a bit. Let me know what you think.

Also, did the Merc group Alexis works for have a name yet? Does she work for a group?

Re: Commedia dell'arte

haha now for the hard part though...

Finding how to best get Alexis in the story. from what i've read it seems like there where terrorist attacks and now the group is investigating them.

Maybe government hired her to help the FBI?

Re: Commedia dell'arte

The only problem is that I have to replace my mouse now from smashing that accept button. lol

But seriously, I so far really like the looks of this character and the depths she can bring. Plus, you got to do the whole "glowing cybernetics" thing before I told everyone I'm ripping off Cyberpunk 2020 and 2077 by letting people have "sub-dermal" tattoos that glow. xP I mean really, if it's possible to do it, I guarantee you at least some people will do it. lol

Re: Commedia dell'arte

Well I ended up going with a more cybernetic Merc character.

Re: Commedia dell'arte

Butterfly Effect wrote:Hmm how am I just now seeing this for the first time? I will most likely throw in a character for this thinking some kinda of cyborg female merc or ninja

The... First time? *triggering intensifies*

It's not your fault you didn't see it obviously, clearly I need a better marketing strategy for my RP's on this site. Much better. lol

Anyways, I would LOVE to see a character like that honestly! I must admit to you, at this moment the world is a bit "disorganized", I have a very clear direction with where I want the story to go, but I'm still trying to figure out how to get everyone there. So, for the first few weeks (or longer) this roleplay might be a bit "directionless", but I'm hoping more characters and factions will help fill in those gaps.

Again, I know WHERE I want us all to go, I just need to figure out HOW to get there. But by all means, send me a character and I'll look him/her over and let you know what I think! If you need help figuring out where to go, just ask me and I'll be more than happy to help you figure out a direction.

Re: Commedia dell'arte

Hmm how am I just now seeing this for the first time? I will most likely throw in a character for this thinking some kinda of cyborg female merc or ninja

Re: Commedia dell'arte

We're in need of more people for this roleplay, hands down. Still open and accepting, and I'd like to inform everyone who's reading this that I would like YOU to suggest some factions for the roleplay. I already have pretty much all the most important ones, but I want factions that you guys might interact with on a daily basis, groups you might be part of.

Mercs, gangs, bounty hunters, hackers, corporations, etc. Let me know what you want, and let's see if we can make it happen. I want this roleplay to be exciting and for the world to start moving.


Re: Commedia dell'arte

Just an update on some "lore" in this universe as well (just one bit for now, might add more later).

In the 21st century, during what became the "Third World War", the White House had been attacked by drone strike from an unknown enemy (possibly Russia or China at the time). The attack killed both the President and Vice President.

At this time, the war had already been underway for a few years, but a few years prior there had been another conflict that America had been facing, an internal one. The House of Representatives was having difficulty electing a Speaker of the House. Both sides were somewhat equal in terms of seats, but to make matters more complicated, both parties struggled to find candidates that were unilaterally liked.

After months of bickering within both parties and the House, Gordon Caldwell was elected in a landslide vote by both Democrats and Republicans. Though he was a Republican himself, he was known for working well with Democrats, and being pretty uncontroversial with his party as well. No bad connections, no conflicting interests. The perfect candidate to be Speaker of the House during war time.

Gordon Caldwell was 25 when he took on the position of speaker. When the President and Vice President were killed, he as 27.

The line of succession for the Presidency states that the Speaker of the House comes after the Vice President. But the constitution says that only someone 35 years of age can be president. This caused immense debate with the government, trying to decide what should be done with the situation. Some suggested skipping the Speaker, but the others next in line for succession were controversial, and had immense push back from opposing parties. Some suggested having another election, but that was deemed impractical since it would take too long.

Instead, the government did something different. It took time, and the cooperation of both Houses (of Representatives and Senate), as well as the Supreme Court to pass an Amendment to the Constitution that lowered the minimum age for the Presidency to 25 years old. As said earlier, Gordon Caldwell was 27 at this time.

And so Gordon Caldwell became the youngest President in US history, and ran the country moderately for the 8 years he was in office. He was never exactly an amazing leader, but he was what America needed at the time, and kept the country moving forward until the war eventually ended, and later his presidency.

Gordon Caldwell was the first, and so far last, person to be elected President under the age of 35. But the Amendment still remains...

TL;DR: People 25 years and older can now be President of the US. It was just easier this way. lol

Re: Commedia dell'arte

So the RP is almost ready to go. I need more players obviously, but I think I have the basic starting locations I want, and other necessary information. I'll try to add some lore as we go and as seems needed.

For now, NYC and Pacifica are acting as the starting locations for characters, to keep it relatively simple. More settings will be added as we continue and as is needed, but I don't want it to get too complicated just yet.

Furthermore, Earth, 2102 AD (roleplay/commedia-dellarte/places/earth-2102-ad) will act as a "catch all" setting to RP in. If there's a specific setting players want to RP in that isn't big enough or relevant enough to be its own setting, you can RP that setting in Earth, 2102 AD. Just have the specific location you're rping in listed at the top of each post your characters make, to avoid confusion.

I haven't finished "Earth, 2102 AD" yet, but I will add more later when needed. At the moment, it's just a blank roleplaying setting that's waiting to get filled up a bit later.

Also, I may post another "setting" that will act as a "News Station" in the universe. This will basically be a place for me to post about "big events" that have been caught in the News and are relevant to the story of the universe. It'll give the players, and their characters, a way of knowing what is more or less going on in other parts of the roleplay, even if they aren't in that location. Sort of an easier way of keeping characters informed about what all is happening to other characters or events in the world.

Anyways, I think that's it for now. Let me know if anyone has any questions (especially about lore) and I'll try to answer as best as I can.

Commedia dell'arte

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