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Alistair D. James

"I do what I have to do. No questions."

0 · 311 views · located in Earth

a character in “How to spot a Faerie”, as played by TaniaSoulEater

Description

Alistair Duff James
Breathe Me - Sia


Image

Height: 6' 0"

Appearance: Alistair is tall and slender, generally a very good-looking guy. He keeps his appearance immaculate, careful to make sure that his clothes, hair and general appearance are perfect. Because of his height, he is easily seen in a crowd, but his training enables him to stay nondescript. Having originated from Scotland, he has a very thick Scottish accent.

Alistair has short, neatly styled black hair, sometimes slicked back with gel. His eyes are a deep onyx, having the effect of trapping people within their depths, despite wearing serious glasses - also black. He occasionally gets rings under his eyes due to lack of sleep. He has a rather intimidating stare, and you would definitely not want to get on his bad side. Despite his slender frame, he is very strong, and should not be underestimated.

Alistair inherited lots of money from his parents, so he is very rich. He wears designer clothing, and prefers suits even when he's not on duty. He also has a preference for plainly coloured clothes, and darker colours. It's rather rare to see him in bright colours, so he is mostly black, white, and sometimes grey.

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight/Heterosexual

Age: 21

Species: Human

Role: IPAF agent

Abilities:

Strengh
Alistair is a very strong individual, both physically and mentally. With a well-placed blow, he is able to break bones. Don't be deceived by his intellectual appearance. He is also able to resist most Faerie tricks.

Intellectual ability
Alistair is also a very smart person. He excels particularly in strategy planning.

Sharp shooting
Alistair is great with a gun. His aim is almost perfect, as long he as remains composed.

Preferred Weapons: Alistair likes feeling the weight of a gun in his arms. He uses silver bullets, efficient and deadly. He usually carries a Sig Sauer P226 and a few spare pistols, although he has been known to use rifles occasionally.

Personality: Alistair is a very quiet and reserved individual. He doesn't open up easily to others, and so far the only person who knows him through and through is the girl he shares a house with (see Other). He feels a strong sense of duty, giving him a serious air and the motivation to follow through on tasks. Organised and methodical in his approach, he can usually achieve any task he undertakes. Loyal and dependable, he places great importance on honesty and integrity, and keeps few secrets. Whatever task IPAF gives him, he carries it out without any question.

Though he has doubts about the way IPAF works, he doesn't question anything and follows orders. Likewise, he may not like some aspects of people, but he will still consider it from their point of view. Being logical, he always thinks things through before acting. He has very little impulse, and has a reason for all his actions. Of course, he has a higher IQ than most - 160. He believes in laws and traditions, and usually goes by the book.

He works long hours, and doesn't sleep much. He also has insomnia, which causes him to get only a few hours of sleep at most every night. Usually, these few hours are punctuated with nightmares, so he rarely gets any peace. Alistair only shows weakness during sleep - when he is awake, his protective walls are up.

Quirks: Due to force of habit, Alistair worries about his appearance a lot. Mostly unconsciously, he will smooth his hair back, straighten his clothes, fiddle with his glasses. Small gestures, really, but when you observe him doing so over a period of time, it become a little obsessive. His one vice is carbonated drinks - look in the fridge at home and you'll find a shelf almost stacked full of soda.

Likes:

Peace
Believe it or not, for such a seemingly peaceful person like Alistair gets very little peace. In those rare moments when he's alone - or with Elena - and not asleep, he spends the time doing something productive.

Reading
In order to constantly learn new things, Alistair reads a lot. His personal study is filled with shelves and shelves of books, most of which the general population of NYC would not even think of looking at.

Animals
Due to his housemate's influence, Alistair has learnt a lot about animals. Like her, he would like to own a pet, preferably a cat, but he has no time to take care of it. He thinks that the poor animal would probably die under his neglect.

Planning
Like the intellectual he is, Alistair enjoys planning - it allows him to organise his many confusing thoughts.

Soda
Alistair has an addiction to soda. He loves carbonated drinks for some reason, and drinks quite a lot of them.

Dislikes:

Crowds
Too noisy, too little personal space. Alistair absolutely hates it when IPAF sends him to a crowded place.

Showing weakness
Over the years, Alistair has developed resilient walls to hold back his emotions. Showing weakness is allowing cracks to invade those walls.

Noise
Alistair lives in a relatively quiet environment, and doesn't like too much noise - it irritates his sensitive ears.

Mistakes
Alistair makes no room in his life for mistakes, and gets very disappointed when they are allowed to happen, regardless whether by himself or others.

Being at loose ends
In order to keep up appearances, Alistair has to keep himself busy. When he's at loose ends, he'll busy himself with something. It's rare to find him not doing anything.

Biography: Alistair was born in Scotland. His parents were very rich, his mother being a lawyer and his father the CEO of a large company. He also had a younger sister, Elspeth, who he doted on dearly. Despite his parents' wealth and the influence they could have easily provided, Alistair worked hard in school, earning many scholarships and awards. He became a very popular person. Many people in his school knew him well, and he welcomed new friends openly. He was different back then, a warm and friendly person who worked hard for what he thought was right.

Elspeth, however, was not so lucky. She had cancer, and was not responding to chemotherapy. Alistair and his parents were worried for her, but she was a strong girl and promised to pull through. Alistair promised her that he would work hard for her, to make her happy.

When he was 19, he won a scholarship to New York City, USA. While studying there, Elspeth became weak and passed away. When he learnt of Elspeth's death, he was overcome with grief. Everything he had worked hard for was gone. He became quiet and withdrawn, building up walls around himself to prevent himself from trusting, and effectively being hurt.

He decided to stay in NYC. He rented a relatively large house, and stayed on his own. While there, he met a very nice girl, Elena, who became his best friend. They came from similar backgrounds, and he could relate to her. When she left her family, he offered her a place to stay with him.

When Alistair heard about the Fey arriving on Earth, he joined the IPAF to defend Earth from them. He refused to stay in the dormitories, however, and continued staying in his apartment with Elena.

Other: He shares a rented house with his best friend, Elena D'Angelo. Despite them having spent some time together, he has no romantic feelings towards her - she's just a really great friend.

So begins...

Alistair D. James's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Azriel De'mourn Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Raena Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Jenson Xion Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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#, as written by Layla
Image

"What do you do for me Kiser?”

Well, well. Kiser would admit, Anastasia's fit was rather... Unexpected. Yet, strangely arousing. Leaning back against the car seat, Kiser propped his legs on the dashboard, rubbing his lower lip with his thumb and then pressing them against Anastasia's mouth. "Sorry about my disobedience and all that jazz. It's not like I'm a wild lion or anything," he said, pressing his lips together and failing in his attempt to not grin. "In my defence, I do a lot for you. Satisfying all your sexy needs 24/7," he said with a bark of laughter. God, Ana was fun to mess with.

"Cut him some slack. He's just seen our friends die and Kiser would never betray you," the Werewolf beside him said. Huh, Kiser thought. Coming to my defence? He didn't realise their brotherly bond extended so far; it was cute. "C'mon, I can't wait to start a 'killin already. We can talk more on the way, alrite?"

"God, more killing?" Kiser cracked his knuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "You'd think I'd seen enough death to last an hour." The Werelion lifted his arm, looking at the black and iron laid watch encircling his wrist. "Hour's up. Let's start killin'," he said, beaming at Rorgen. He loved the guy when he wasn't being a moral killjoy.

He stared at the roof of the car as Leau and Anastasia continued to talk and bicker, his long limbs combined with Rorgen's filling much of the vehicle. A certain line stood in contrast. "He goes by the name of Capricorn... He's the King's second in command."

"Wait, king? What king?" Kiser asked, sitting upright and staring intently at Leau. "Great, the Faeries have a monarchy now?"

"Leau... I'm sorry. But you are asking me to risk not only your life and mine, but Kiser's and everyone else associated with us. We can not hide this Fey from the IPAF, the risk is far to great." Hide things from the IPAF? Kiser frowned, wondering what Ana hid for surely, she hid things from them. Say something, Leau.

"Understood, Ma'am." That was it? 'Understood, ma'am?'

"We bett-" he began.

"The mail has been delivered," a familiar voice vibrated from his earpiece.

"Dunkelzahn," he called Zahn by her full name. "You're not dead," he mused. He had to admit, he was impressed. Zahn was difficult and her life could easily be named 'Taming of the Shrew,' okay, minus the taming, but she did her job well. "Great. We won't have lesbian body parts to clean up," he joked. He sucked at jokes. Kiser tapped his earpiece, adding Alistair and Jenson to the call. "Meet us in the IPAF headquarters. Ana's big bad office." Kiser slapped Rorgen's steering wheel, throwing Leau and Anastasia a look. "We're not exactly in the best place to talk."

A hooded figure stood in the shadows, his presence invisible to all.

Minutes later, the group of IPAF operatives stood behind Hotel Pennsylvania. The building loomed overhead, its old structure abnormal in the midst of contemporary, newer buildings; it was one of the few structures that remained untouched after the Technological Revolution of 1914. Kiser felt the bricks of the wall, running his coarse fingers along the bumpy surface. "There," he whispered to himself. He tapped on a brick thrice, the slightly paler, newer colour of it imperceptible unless one knew what to look for.

There was a stillness, followed by a soft ticking as if within the brick was an atomic bomb. The brick shifted backwards with a groan, leaving a scanner in its place. Kiser grinned, pressing his palm to the sleek glass just as two lasers beamed into his forest green eyes. "Authentication successful. Welcome, Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood," a computerised voice said. The scanner turned green before disappearing, the brick that was there taking its place. Kiser grinned at his comrades - he'd never get over IPAF's technology - as a section of the wall in the shape of a door moved backwards into the darkness, revealing an elevator with iron gates in its place. Kiser stepped in.

"Come on, we don't have all day," he said to the IPAF agents.

28.43 seconds was how long it took for the elevator to arrive at the IPAF headquarters deep underground. Agents bustled about, a few robots scattered about, running errands and processing information human, Were and Vampire minds could not. The iron furnishings and structures drenched the headquarters in a metallic scent. Men and women slapped both sides of their chests and then their foreheads in greeting as Anastasia passed them by. It was the worst salute in all of Earth's history, but it appeared IPAF's creator had run out of imagination. Kiser chuckled at the greeting, returning it with a mock salute.

Image

ImageSoft hands grasped her shoulders, a hand caressed her hair, easing the pressure of the ceiling as it pressed down on her mind, tampering her light. She was no longer running and now, instead, the crumpled to the ground, her fingers tangling themselves with the leaves - the pillow. "My name is Praxis Lethe, and you are Raena," the mesmerising creature said. The dream shifted, the beasts evaporating into the depths of her mind, leaving a throne room in its place. A domed roof that seemed to be as high as the clouds was only overshadowed by a throne of glass, crystal and light. Silver sunlight streamed in from the opaque walls, scattering the light and creating a kaleidoscope of colours as it was fractured by the multi-faceted crystals that made the Throne of the High Queen.

"I am here to help you see again."

The strands that made Order's tattered dress began to unwind, replaced by a dress with cloth made of sapphire and amethyst liquid. Her eyes sieved through an endless stream of colours - some of Earth and others of the Faerie Realms - at the speed of light. Her white hair bled into silver as it grew, lengthening till it touched the floors made of crystal and clouds.

"I am your puppet, and you are a hypnotist, the master of all that is just. You only have to breathe in what you had forgotten." A blue shadow began to form before the throne, struggling to seep through her subconscious. Remember.


Raena awoke with a start, nearly smacking her head against Azriel's. She breathed heavily, her eyes darting around the room in search of... Something. She looked at Azriel, her eyes wide as she edged closer to him, pressing one palm to her chest and the other to his. "I dreamed," she whispered. "It was important." But she could not, for the life of her, remember it with any semblance of clarity. All she knew was- "I am Raena. You may refer to me as such, although 'My Queen' is preferred."

The world's creator crawled over Azriel to lean against his back between his legs, oblivious to her change of clothing and the lack of distance between her and the stranger. The Fey were not built to be uncomfortable with closeness and touch. "You will comb my hair," she demanded. Her eyes searched his room; she jumped off his bed without warning, racing towards the end of a blue shirt that was wedged between his closet doors. Raena threw the door open, snatching the shirt off its hanger and pressing it to her chest. Her long, ivory legs was clearly visible through Azriel's shirt as she jumped and ran on the spot. Praxis.

"We must find him," she said frantically, running towards the window and throwing open the curtains. The light stretched towards her, seeping into her skin as if it begging for her loving touch. Raena threw open the window, swing a slim leg over the frame as if to climb out. "We must go."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elena J. D'Angelo Character Portrait: Justin Maysharp Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Jenson Xion Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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Elena J. D'Angelo


Elena wasn't paying attention to the couple she'd knocked into - she was focusing instead on her scattered belongings, which was why she jumped violently when the boy bent down to help her. "Sorry, I should have been watching where I was going." Instantly, Elena was remorseful for not apologising to him. "No, it was my fault, I'm sorry," she tried to tell him, but by then he was already picking up her things, his long fingers curling around her notebook in which she scribbled her ideas and placing it inside her bag.

"Oh my god! You're soaked! Here, you've gotta keep warm!" Elena looked up, alarmed. She was about to reject his help, but before she could do so, something warm was draped around her shoulders. Her eyes raked over the boy, taking in his appearance. Tall and handsome, his cheeky smile definitely helped rope in the girls, Elena thought. In an instant, Elena also saw what he'd put over her - his shirt.

In this weather, Elena was sure he shouldn't be bare-chested, even if she was soaking. But it felt so good - warmth from the cold was definitely welcome, and the shirt was nice and warm. "Alright, we have to get you into some dry clothes or you'll freeze! My house is just a few blocks away. You can use my clothes until you're feeling better."

"Wait, what? Hold on a minute - " Before she knew it, Elena's bag was swung on the boy's shoulder, and he had scooped her up into his arms. Gasping, she tried to push him away, but he was holding on tight to her - there was no escape. Elena was, to say the least, shocked - this boy was nicer than she'd given him credit for.

Swaying dangerously above the ground, Elena reached out and grasped his shoulders tightly. The gesture was involuntary, of course - moving at such a speed, suspended above the ground, held up by only the boy's sinewy arms - Elena was terrified. Add to that the shock at the boy's gesture and she probably could have been knocked over by a feather.

Despite the shirt draped around her shoulders, Elena was still freezing. She shivered violently, her teeth chattering. Reaching back, she pulled the shirt closer around her, cherishing its warmth, even if it was only around her shoulders. Her breaths ragged, mist erupted from her lips every time she exhaled. She tried to control her breathing, stop herself from fading out. Hypothermia was dangerous, she knew. What would Alistair say if he found out what had happened?

Finally, the boy reached what Elena could only presume was his house. He pushed open the door and set Elena down. Still shivering, Elena rubbed her frozen hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself. Finally, her teeth stopped chattering enough for her to speak.

"Thank you."



Alistair D. James


Alistair had been lounging in the study reading a book, when Kiser's voice came through the earpiece. "Meet us in the IPAF headquarters. Ana's big bad office." "Roger that," Alistair replied easily. He sprang out of his chair, surprisingly lithe. As he was already dressed in his trademark blue suit, there was no time wasted on preparation.

After leaving a note for Elena on the dining table, Alistair raced downstairs and hopped into his black Ford Focus and drove straight to the entrance of the headquarters, pausing only to allow the scanner to scan his palm and eyes.

Moments later, he strode into Anastasia's office where the rest of the crew were. "What's happened?" he offered by way of greeting.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elena J. D'Angelo Character Portrait: Dunkelzahn Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Jenson Xion Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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#, as written by Lenyx
Anastasia pushed open the door to her office, not bothering to check if everyone else was still with her. She assumed they would know better, and most of them wanted answers, not just with what she knows, but what she knew.

Anastasia's office was large, yet there was barely anything in the room. A cherry desk that seemed almost superfluous, since there is little to no paperwork to be seen, sat centered near the back of the room, with a black leather desk chair behind it. In front of the desk were two angled black leather love seats, facing towards the desk. In the room there were two small table lamps – one near the door atop a circular end table, and another on the cherry wood desk with a long brass pull-cord. The faint illumination of an overhead light cast shadows into the corners of the room, spilling under the desk and over top the few framed black-and-white photos on the wall. A lone filing cabinet occupied one of the the corners of the room, Anastasia always kept it locked, as she was the only one with a key. The deep blue curtains were drawn to one side, allowing light to filter in from outside the window. The room truly reflected Anastasia's personality and life style. Cold. Hard. Sophisticated. It is here she was always felt to be in complete control.

Taking her usual seat in her chair behind the table, Anastasia folded her hands together, resting them on the desk, and leaned back in her chair, just as Alistair came in.

"What's happened?"

“That, is why I am gathering you all here. To tell you all what I know, and every one of you is going to tell me what you know.” Anastasia looked around those in her room, noting Jenson and Dunkelzahn were the only ones missing. Anastasia was never one to wait on or for other people, so she continued. “Most of you may not know this, but I am not highly trusted here in the IPAF. Our superiors are quite a bit older than me, and most of them have known each other for years. I am expected to work and do as I am told, and while I am one to follow orders, I am not however one to be played as a fool. There is more to the IPAF then what they let on, but I am not sure what it is exactly our superiors are hiding. For the past month I have been doing some digging and have come up with little, that is where Leau comes in. For anything I do find, I turn to her for information.”

Anastasia coldly stared at Leau. “But it seems I need to ask some more specific and very intrusive questions in to her life as a Fey.” Turning to look over the others in the room and leaning forward, she added, “However, I'd like to leave questioning Leau for a later time. Right now, what I want is for you all to tell me what you know of in regards to both Fae and the IPAF and anything that you have not told me or are hiding from me. But if what you know is only what you have been told, then sit down and shut up. Then we will discuss what is going on, and what we are going to do about it.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Azriel De'mourn Character Portrait: Tiggy The Summer Fae Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Raena Character Portrait: Yuki Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James Character Portrait: Orpheus
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#, as written by Layla
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"Calm yourself, Raena," the man reasoned, his firm grip around her. Raena stuck out her lower lip and puffed out her cheeks, frowning unhappily as he continued to lecture her on her lack of orderly conduct. Somewhere along the second line, she'd pressed her palms to her ears and proceeded to shut her eyes and hum and lalalala. Gosh, he was no fun! Why did they have to take all these silly steps to do one simple task? She didn't understand and didn't want to. All she knew was - "I want my blue bunny!" she whined, crossing her arms over her chest and gruffly allowing Azriel to lift her down onto the ground, remaining perfectly still and begrudgingly unwilling as he did.

A few long moments passed before she stretched out her arms, reaching towards the Vampire as she tilted her head upwards as a spoiled and angry princess would. "You will carry me!" Raena wrapped her willowy arms around the man's neck, letting him tuck one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. "You are not amusing," she huffed as the kitchen came into view and she was set on her feet. "This is a ghastly room," she complained, roving the walls and its attached equipment with her eyes. She'd never been in a kitchen in all of her eternal life.

Raena circled the counter in the centre, arms crossed as she observed the rare mechanisms that decorated the shelves and tables that were... Attached to the wall? Raena looked at the gold-eyed creature over her shoulder, clasping her hands behind her back. His shirt hung loose over her slim frame, slipping over one shoulder to reveal soft ivory skin. "You are a Witch, of sorts? Is this your.... Cauldron?" she mused, running a finger along the rim of a cooking pot. "What is your name, CPR?" she asked, calling him by one of the first words she'd heard him speak.

She walked on the tips of her toes, looking as if she barely touched the ground. Raena stood before the refrigerator, examining the miniature 'door' closely. "Open," she commanded it. It remained closed. "Open," she repeated with a hint of frustration and puzzlement. Annoyed, she gripped the handle and pulled it hard towards her. A gust of cold wind tore at her skin as she yelped, jumping backwards onto the counter and crawling further back. "What sorcery is this?!" she exclaimed, gawking at the blobs within. After a few moments, she narrowed her eyes, inching closer to the refrigerator, lying in a frog-like position on the counter. The blobs were... "Food." Raena parted her lips in shock. "Your foods do not fly or glow! Are they unwell?"

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Anastasia was amusing. As in, genuinely and absolutely amusing in an almost hilarious sort of way. "God, you're cute," he said under his breath, giving her a dashing smile. "Well, I know nothing that you don't tell me so see you tonight," he teased. "Ciao, guys." Kiser pressed two fingers to his forehead and jerked them outwards in a salute. Without a minute's pause in case someone tried to stop him, Kiser walked out, slapping Alistair on the back as he left.

When he was far enough from the group, he dropped the smirk, his face a mask of boredom and the lack of expression. God, keeping up the act was getting tiring. He had better things to do than hang around with NYC's IPAF operatives. He could've spent the time eating steaks and god, he didn't know, painting his nails. He walked down a maze of corridors to the containment facilities. He pressed his card to a scanner on a wall, there looked to be no doors but oh, there was. "Voice confirmation, please," an electronic voice spoke.

"I'm a sexy beast," Kiser said, chuckling at his own joke.

"Authentication verified. Welcome, Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood. Rank-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's enough. Let me in," he said, just as the wall slid open to reveal a hidden door. Kiser looked down both ends of the hallway before stepping in, the door behind him sliding shut. The hallway before him was brightly lit, both sides made entirely of glass. Kiser walked down the hall, paying the Fey that were within the rooms no head. Each Faerie was strapped in iron to what looked like an operating table, a dome of special glass covering their bodies. With their eerie beauty and frozen shut eyelids, it looked like some creepy adaption of Snow White. Their containers were filled with a transparent, thick liquid that would keep them unconscious and immobile but alive. It also healed all Fey wounds, something he supposed was a good thing.

This was the place he'd brought the Fey Rorgen and Leau had captured. "Room 600," he whispered to himself, standing before a glass door and observing the unconscious, blue skinned Fey within. A sensor picked up on Kiser's presence and a square of light appeared in the centre of the glass door. There was no sound as Kiser pressed his palm into the square of light and as the glass panel slid open without so much as disrupting the air around it. Kiser stepped into the room, the glass door closing behind him as all IPAF doors did to prevent unwanted infiltration of their facilities. Kiser strolled towards the glass case encompassing the blue Fey, tapping the password on a panel attached to its 'coffin'.

Psssssssh.

The glass dome slid open, sinking into the operating table as the liquid did, leaving the Fey exposed to the frigid air of the room. Needles were attached to its body, pumping Fey-tested sedatives into its veins, flooding its dichromatic blood. "Wakey, wakey, artichoke," Kiser whispered in the Fey's ear, blowing a gust of warm air into blue-boy's ear. "Howdy, mate. The name's Kiser and yours is...?" he began, pulling away from the Fey and pacing around the table it was strapped to. "Tell me all about this lovely monarchy of yours and that scythe wielding Capricorn, won't you? If you don't," Kiser paused. "I don't think you Fey are immune to electroshock, are you?" Kiser grinned. "Don't think all your other Fey friends were. And if that isn't enough, I've always wanted to try iron darts and Fey dartboards."

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"Ah, push it! Push it good. Ah, push it! P-push it real good. Hey! Ow! Push it good!" Salt n' Pepper sang from the speakers of his iPhone 10. Bloody hell. Orpheus moaned, burying himself deeper into the mattress and the soft bodies of the two women whose names he could not remember and whose names he never would. Identities didn't matter, as far as he was concerned. All he cared about was the presence of appropriate body parts. Or not. He was always up for an unusual adventure.

Orpheus reached over the naked skin of a redheaded woman - an air hostess, if he'd remembered correctly - to fumble for his glowing iPhone. The room was incredibly dark which meant only one thing - either it was 3 freaking AM or the curtains had been drawn closed. Okay, that was two.

"Orpheus speaking, not speaking. Go away," he mumbled, pressing the phone to his ear. Every fraction of movement felt like another tear in his head, like someone was bowling with his brain. He didn't think he'd drunk that much last night, but then again, when did he not? He'd spent the past six months on Earth drunk and participating in questionable activities.

"We've found- " the raspy voice of a man who'd smoked one hundred too many cigarettes attempted to announce.

"Found what? Your manhood? Please, tell me more, tell me more. Does it have a car?" he sang mockingly as he crawled over the sprawled bodies.

"We've found Raena."

Orpheus stilled. "You are certain of this?" he asked, searching for his clothes amongst the scattered pieces of lingerie. There.

"Well, not really... But it looked like the woman you'd asked us to search for: white hair, freaky eyes, beyond beautiful. I saw her with my own eyes." Well, that wasn't very comforting. The man was ancient, like, practically 25.

"Where?" he asked, anyway. Orpheus pulled on his pants, hopping about as he held his phone between his head and his muscular shoulder.

"Upper New York Bay," came the reply. Orpheus tripped and fell onto the ground with a loud thump. "Uh, you okay, sir?" the voice asked on the other end. Orpheus groaned in reply, picking up his phone - which was surprisingly still in one piece - and rubbing his sore neck. Never, ever multitask with a hangover and a male body part. Bad, bad idea. Orpheus disconnected his phone, tucking it in the back pocket of his jeans as he stood, wobbling slightly. He found his black shirt discarded on a lamp and pulled it on, doing up the buttons. He doubted this was who he wished it to be; if she were alive, it would not be Winter. He knew, most certainly, that she would never let the world fall into such disarray if she were still... No, he didn't wish to think of it. He merely hoped to enjoy the last few months of his life before the world came to an end.

Minutes later, he found himself by the Upper New York Bay, scanning the crowds with little hope until he spotted a blur of... "Well, well, isn't this a surprise?" he mused, walking towards Yuki with a practiced smile. Orpheus bowed, taking the Winter Fey's hand in his and kissing the back of her palm. He raised his head, giving her a brief wink as he straightened himself. "Yuki, Yuki, quite contrary. How does your garden grow?" he teased, placing a hand on her lower back and edging her forward. "Walk with me," he said.

Orpheus was once a part of the Unseelie court, when the Queen had asked that he look after the 'disappointing Aerunia.' He'd spent many a millennium with the Unseelies and had grown rather fond of the beautiful Yuki, although, he was fond of everyone. As in, he liked to feel their skin against his and nothing more. He'd not spoken to another Fey in six months and now he acted as if he'd never disappeared. It appeared luck was with him today as not too far away was another familiar companion. "Tiggy." Orpheus beamed. Taking his hand from the curve of Yuki's spine, he took Tiggy's hand in his, kissing hers as he had Yuki's. "Ma fille la plus belle d'été," he said in his honeyed voice. My loveliest summer girl. He straightened himself, loosening his top button and running a hand through his flawless, strawberry blonde hair. He had two beautiful women of both Winter and Summer, oh, this would be fun.

"Now, where is our Queen?" he asked casually, throwing a nearby man who'd been staring at him a wink. Well, everyone was staring at him, or maybe them, seeing as they all looked to be heart-breakingly beautiful. But mostly him. Orpheus had been a 'favourite' of the Queen's when they'd been in the Faerie Realms. There were rumours of him sharing the Queen's bed, rumours he'd never bothered to deny. He had also been known as the 'Oracle of Darkness' or 'Orpheus the Calziel' as he'd been rumoured to be capable to conversing with the dead. Rumours, he also, had not denied.

Orpheus narrowed his eyes at the persimmon streaked sky; it must've been at least 5 in the evening now. "Guess the curtains were closed," he whispered to himself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dunkelzahn Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Jenson Xion Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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Azriel



Azriel watched as the would be princess is thwarted by a fridge and chuckles lightly, taking it as a minor pay back for ordering him around. He was walking back toward the bedroom when she asked him his name so his voice was emitted from the room only to be followed shortly by him carrying a professionally made beautiful dress from across the street tailored to the girl's size. "My name is Azriel." His tone was short and to the point as if his name didn't matter in the least "Here, put this on while I make you some food, it is sure to be warmer than what you have on. I am no witch but I believe I may be able to create a little culinary magic if you'd wish." He chuckles lightly at his poorly made joke before setting the dress out for her and moving to the kitchen to begin cooking. As he had planned before he would make French toast and eggs with sausage and bacon. "Well assuming we do not find where you belong soon, you may stay here and decorate that room as you wish until you find yourself." He motioned idly toward the living room, not really caring about its appearance so much as its functionality.

It wouldn't take him long to make the simple yet delicious meal but while he was cooking he decided conversing would be best. "So tell me about this person you wish to find, he seems very important to you." His words where specifically placed to draw out the information he would need to find the man and get the girl talking at the same time. She had been thrust into a world of chaos and it would be healthy for her to reflect on something familiar. Though vague, it was still an anchor for her to hold onto. He seemed to flow about the kitchen with such grace it looked as if he was dancing half the time. He worked around her in such a way that she would never have to move to accommodate him no matter where she was standing in the kitchen. He seemed oddly more relaxed than his usual intense self while cooking. He would spin and slide around the kitchen as if it was his dance floor. On the edge of the table was a closed laptop which he would later use to begin searching for the man they quested for, for now however his focus was on making sure the girl was healthy enough to search. After a while music began to play from a surround sound system in the kitchen, the genre was unclear as it seemed every song fit into a different one. Between spins he motions to a small controller with three buttons on it that sat next to the laptop Back, Pause and Forward. "Press the button on the right if you don't like the song." (I'll let you decide what music she chooses to play) He smiled gently at the girl judging from what he had seen so far that she wouldn't know how to operate it without some minor instruction.



Jenson


(OOC: Jenson's post comes after Flickery's. We ninja'ed each other.)

Jenson had gotten the call to meet at the office like everyone else, unlike everyone else however he was no where near the base. Jenson had just recently finished his final 'Field Test' that would allow him to leave the lab and start actually doing work. With all the modifications and program glitches they had to work through just to get everything working right, Jenson was now a walking wonder. They now had him in the back of a Van moving toward the main base to start his service under one Anastasia Varias. The voice on the com must have been her second? That was a guess though, still he couldn't help but feel like he knew the voice. While he waited images flew up in front of him much like a computer in his brain. The images where invisible to anyone else because they where literally in his head, to him they appeared transparent so he could still see everything going on around him. He was going through the personnel files for the team he was supposed to be working for in the near future. Suddenly after fifteen minutes of bored flipping through random grunts in their unit he gets toward the higher ups. Without warning he jumped up in his seat and yelled "YETI!" The word startled his driver who swerved a little but managed to regain his control over the vehicle easily enough "What the hell is going on back there!" The driver called back frustrated "Its the Yeti! When the fuck did he leave the military!?" He reached up and tapped the device on his temple quickly before he yelled out over the open com link "YETI old boy you dressed?!" He chuckled heavily as he called out to his old military buddy Kiser.

Years ago they had been in deep jungle and Kiser had gone out to take a piss in the middle of the night without telling their watchmen. Kiser of course had decided there was no problem in going out stark naked with his gun since there was no one for miles. In the middle of the night their very green watchmen had caught a glimpse of him and remembering some fake horror story they told newbies about Yeti's being in the woods they where in, freaked out and started yelling about how there was a Yeti in the woods trying to get at them. That is until the spotlight was slammed on and turned on the rather startled Commander, since then he has never lived down the nickname from that unit. Kiser being the relaxed Commander he was never punished people for harmless fun so the name stuck. When no higher ups where around they started calling him Commander Big Foot.

Finally the van pulled up to the building and dropped him and another plain looking man off. They walk up to the wall casually and go through the sequence to get the door open, however when it came to the retina scan the thing errors out and Jenson starts cussing profusely about some dumb ass not writing in a back up access system. "My eyes are as good as paper to this damned thing." The other man stepped up and opened the door before they got into the elevator and took the 28.43 second ride down to the base. By the time they reached the bottom Jenson's head was bobbing to music no one else could hear. The other man departed from Jenson's company likely to go report to whatever department he belonged to. Jenson walked quickly through the hallways, his overlay highlighted people as he walked and popped up their names above their heads with a link to access their personnel records, at least whatever his pay grade would let him see. He slide through the door to Anastasia's office casually. The first thing he saw was the sparse walls and no nonsense attitude, his previous military experience telling him to look at those thing first to know how to act. He decided to go into military mode since she seemed the type. He steps out and then goes ridged with a military stance "Jenson Xion reporting for.... Fae!" in a flash a pistol appeared in his hand and beaded perfectly at Leau between the eyes, she would have been able to see into his barrel if she weren't standing across the room and behind Anastasia. He paused a moment however as his targeting system highlighted her green "Da fuck?.... Leau huh?..." the gun dropped back to his side as he started reading off his monitor, decidedly slaughtering the pronunciation of her name on accident " "Considered friendly"? haha they are real specific about you aren't they! No offence, just didn't know we had any friendly butterflies." He chuckled merrily as he slide the gun back into a leg holster that seems to blend in with his cloths almost perfectly, keeping the gun right at his hand height when his arm is relaxed. He then seems to remember where he was and popped back into a sloppily ridged position before saying "Oh uh right.. Reporting for duty.... I dunno, do we call you ma'am or sir? They liked sir in the military, but I dunno you might like Ma'am." He seemed to have lost his serious position, returning to a completely none formal stance as he went on a tangent, completely forgetting there where other people in the room. Under his left arm was a helmet that look odd to say the least. It had some sort of strip going all around it horizontally and looked like it would cover a person's entire head a lot like a bikers helmet would but without the clear visor. The thing would encase a person's head in protection but effectively make them blind. What strategic use it would be was completely unclear, but then in this room no one had noticed his eyes yet.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dunkelzahn Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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#, as written by Lenyx
"God, you're cute," Anastasia heard Kiser say under his breath, while giving her a dashing smile. "Well, I know nothing that you don't tell me so see you tonight, Ciao, guys." Kiser pressed two fingers to his forehead and jerked them outwards.

Anastasia could only glare coldly at his back, she hoped he could feel the imaginary ice daggers she was driving into him. When Rorgen spoke up, pulling her gaze to him.

"Remind me to buy you some catnip for the coming holidays, Ana." Rorgen said seemingly amused.

Anastasia's icy glare returned, this time focused on Rorgen.

"Well, You already know what I could tell you about the IPAF. But. I bet you ten bucks we'd find something in that Lab 86b that just got shut down. I've only been up to the seventy series, even authorized research personnel weren't allowed in the ones that were eighty and above. They had to have special permission granted. And now security is at an all time low. It's the best time to get in there. But we can't access their data remotely, have to be there to do it. Try and look into their local files manually with this and pull something out, before the cleanup crew arrives." Rorgen gestured towards Alistair, "And if Alistair could come along."

Anastasia let her glare fade as she nodded in agreement. “Leau and I will come along. Dunkelzahn, glad you could join us. First aid kit, washroom.” Anastasia pointed to a door on the eastern wall near the filing cabinet. “Bandage up that hand before you get blood all over my carpet.”

As she stood up from her chair the phone on her desk beeped, and Anastasia pushed a button, putting the call on s everyone could hear. “Speak.”

“Well, uhm Ma'am. You see the clean-up crew for Lab86B, was Dunkelzahn and well uhm, Ma--” The feminine voice on the other end squeaked.

“Get to the point.” Anastasia growled.

“She blew it up Ma'am. There isn't much le-”

“God damn it.Dunkelzahn what the hell were you thinking?” Anastasia snapped. “Clean-up! Not blow up!”

Turning her attention back to the woman on the other end of the phone, Anastasia snapped at her too. “Get my car ready. Leau and I will be heading there for damage control, along with Rorgen and Alistair.”

Clicking the call off, Anastasia muttered to herself. “Can't anyone here not cause me any grief and just listen and obey orders?” Taking off her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose she addressed Rorgen. “Rorgen, you and Alistair take your car. Leau and I will meet you there. Leau let's go. Now.”

With that Anastasia strode to the door, but stopped and turned around to face the team of people in her office. “Dunkelzahn, do not blow anything up while I am gone. And as to what I know, I know that the Fae that are captured, are kept. Locked in cages, and I want to know why we are keeping them. Until I find that out, all I can do is theorize with the bits of information I have acquired and that I have received from Leau regarding Fae life and magic. I think there is experimentation going on, and personally, I don't like that idea.”

With that Anastasia swept out of her office without another word along with Leau following silently behind her. Together the two headed out in to the winter wonderland of New York, where a man standing outside a black, sleek, Lamborghini Reventon waited. With a quick nod he opened the door for Anastasia, and once she was seated inside, he closed the door. As Anastasia started the car, Leau got in the passenger seat. “Leau. Seat-belt.”

Wordlessly Leau pulled her seat belt over her chest and clicked the buckle in place, securing her safely in the car. Together they drove in silence, until Leau spoke up rather abruptly right around the area where Anastasia and Rorgen had hit the Fey earlier. “Stop the car.”

“I beg your pardon Leau? No. I will not stop the car. We need to get to-”

“Stop the car now!” Leau shouted as she removed her seat belt and threw herself towards the steering wheel, grabbing it with both hands and turning it sharply. Anastasia pushed down on the break as the car started to spin, and stopped only after almost making a complete circle.

Leau glanced at Anastasia sharply, but sharply turned her head away again. "No time. None left," she said. With the sound of a soft breeze and a tree rustling in the wind, she seemed to dissolve from position beside Anastasia.

“Leau what in the bloody hell are you-” Anastasia started to scream at Leau, but Leau was gone.

Anastasia was left stunned and confused. Trying to start the car to go in search of Leau, she found it wouldn't start. “What in God's name...” She didn't know what to do, she knew nothing about cars except how to drive them. So she called the only person she could. Picking up her phone she stabbed at the numbers as she dialed, she knew the number by heart.

She slipped the phone to her ear as she pulled off her glasses and tossed them on the dashboard. “Kiser, you better check your damn messages. My car won't start. Leau grabbed the wheel and I lost control of the car. Now she's gone and I'm stranded. I'm where we hit that damned Fey.” Anastasia hated to say it, but she knew Kiser most likely would shrug her off if she didn't, so through gritted teeth she did the last thing she ever wanted to do in her life. “I need you. I need your help. Please.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dunkelzahn Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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Alistair D. James


Alistair listened seriously to Anastasia's words. He didn't like the fact that IPAF might be keeping something big, and especially from Anastasia, the leader of the NYC district. He had never questioned the authority he worked under before, but this was serious.

He shrugged. "Isn't there some digging you could do on your own? Should we even be trusting Leau at this point?" Similar thoughts ran through his mind, but he said nothing, being the quiet person he always was. Speaking his mind at this time would do nothing. Besides, Anastasia had specifically ordered it, and he was never one to defy orders, especially not from Anastasia.

Just then, Kiser passed him, slapping him on the back. Involuntarily, Alistair shook him off - he hated being touched. And Kiser - there was just something about him that Alistair didn't trust. He was no supernatural, being only human - but Kiser gave him the creeps. And when something gave Alistair the creeps, you'd better watch out - Alistair was a stolid person and didn't get the creeps easily.

Listening to Rorgen, Alistair unconsciously smoothed his suit, a common habit of his. It was like Tourette's Syndrome; every movement couldn't be controlled. He thought of Elena, who would probably come home late, having yet another date with that Steven. Alistair missed the old Elena, ever since Steven came along, it was Steven this and Steven that, whatever Steven thought about everything and anything would be inserted into any conversation they were having. Alistair didn't like it.

"And if Alistair could come along." Alistair jerked out of his reverie, processing Rorgen's words. He nodded wordlessly, noting Zahn striding in. Zahn - well, Zahn being Zahn, she had that look of 'you can't make me do what I don't want to do', and was very surly, as always.

Anastasia's phone beeped, and the nervous person on the other end spoke. "Well, uhm, Ma'am. You see, the cleanup crew for Lab 86B was Dunkelzahn, and, well, uhm..." Alistair rolled his eyes. "Get it out, woman," he muttered under his breath. Apparently Anastasia thought the same way, for she snapped at the timid lady. "Get to the point."

"She blew it up, Ma'am. There isn't much left - " Alistair leapt to his feet, angered. "You - blew up - " he sputtered, but fortunately his words were masked by Anastasia yelling at Dunkelzahn. For once, Alistair felt like yelling too - how would they explain this to the public? "I'm sorry, but you see, we had to cause a massive explosion in public to destroy a monster that would probably have killed all of you, you should be thanking us instead of blaming us." Obviously not.

"Leau and I will be heading there for damage control, along with Rorgen and Alistair." "Yes, ma'am," Alistair saluted her smartly and turned to Rorgen. "Shall we go, then?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dunkelzahn Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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There was a long pause between Anastasia's exclaimation and the first thing he said. "Good work, zahn." When it came to Rorgen, sometimes you could not tell whether he was being his usual sacarstic self or actually praising here.

He actually liked the woman's style of work, 'When in doubt, go all out'. When it came to dealing with the spernatural, one could never be too careful. One stray and everything could be lost, as the inevitable years of experience had told him. As long as she evacuated the other IPAF agents before it happened, he was fine with it and he was sure she would have.


Anastasia returned to the phone, giving out orders to get ready to go out. The smell of blood wafted to his nose like a pungent odor, not the sweet-jam fragrance of Fey blood and the intoxicating effect it had on some people, but the metallic sting of blood. Human blood. He could not help but associate lesbians with punching everything, he briefly busied himself wondering who was the outstanding fellow who landed her.

Until Anastasia put down the phone and pinched the bridge of her noise like she always did.


"Rorgen, you and Alistair take your car. Leau and I will meet you there. Leau. Go now!"


He cranked his head sideways when she said to go in pairs in a Sure. kind of manner, though it also meant that she was coming along too. Rorgen did not like putting Anastasia in any danger, though she often demanded it herself. Knowing that her position did not afford her much choice.


"Shall we go then?"


Rorgen arched his brows up in a reversed blink, turning to look, there stood Alistair always such a gentleman. It was a refreshing sight in a place where everyone swore like sailors all day, he himself included. If the man ever had a crease out of place or temper ever lost, then Rorgen had yet to see it.

He waited for Alistair to exit first, taking up on his offer, then closed the door behind.




The outside was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the quiet mediance of the office not just a few inches away. Jacketted men and women scrolled through sheets of paper, picking up phone calls and relaying messages undre flourescent lights. He recognized a few of them, with their eyes perpetually looking downwards, but they were busy.

Rorgen reached out and with quick fingers, warily grabbed a communicator off a working android's head as Alistair was walking. "Borrowing this!" He voiced loudly to no one in particular, taking faster than usual steps back into the semblance of a walkway void of people -the lycanthrope did not trust the damned things. Too much action, too little thought. He mused. There was no way anyone could tell what they were thinking. The machine seemed confused for only a moment, which he took to quickly turn around, then resumed it's beeping processes like nothing happened.

When he disappeared far enough ahead of Alistair, he plugged in the device to his ear and a clear blue V.I (Virtual Visual Image) screen blinked into existence before his right eye. Created through Light Induction Diodes that bent the surrounding light into percievable objects, in this case a flickering baritone sound-wave bar. Technology had progressed rapidly during the last few years, especially when the world came to learn of Semi-humans.


"Rorgen. R. Avulstein." He said in a low voice, initiating it's recognition systems.


Sometimes he felt like he missed an important part of history and was still living in the past, it was likely because of the one year coma he had. How quickly did things change.

"Sux." Rorgen muttered as he reached the door, looking downwards at himself, he didn't even get a change of clothes.



--------The IPAF Headquarters Carpark-------




It was not long before they came to the underground carpark underneath the Hotel Pensylvania, reserved only for IPAF Agents -not that civillians would find their way down here. The organization had a thing for being underground, twice he had stepped out of that lift today.

As they neared the car, now stained and slightly dented, he detoured to it's rear and unlocked the trunk of the vehicle. Inside was a cleverly hidden stylized briefcase, chrome in colour, that acted like an ingeniously placed mirror for emergencies and breakdowns, as it fit snugly into tight concave compartment in the backboard.

Taking it and a few other things and throwing them in the backseat, Rorgen slung himself into the driver's seat electronically opening the door for Alistair.


"P'rdon the mess. Dead fae was in here. I'll pay a vamp to lick it clean or something later." He was very open about his racism and started driving down the lonely lane once the agent got in.


"There are Gears and stuff in there," He said non-chalantly, indirectly offering Alistair to take what he needed as he barely touched the steering wheel with one hand and started pulling the shirt from his heavily muscled anatomy. They were still driving in a secluded area so it was not much of a danger. But Rorgen lacked the exhibitionist qualities of Kiser and quickly put on a bulletproof vest, multi-tasking the chore of gearing up.


"You still carry that silver pistol?" He asked Alistair, not particularly enthusiatic about the answer. But the young agent was well-known for several things, one included the use of bullets that were meant to kill Weres.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elena J. D'Angelo Character Portrait: Justin Maysharp Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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Alistair D. James


Alistair walked out smoothly, turning back briefly to make sure that Rorgen was behind him. He followed Rorgen outside, observing the Were's every movement. He wasn't trying to be a creep, he was just into observation, and at that moment, he was kind of bored.

A slight disturbance caused Alistair to avert his eyes from Rorgen, but it was a small one, nothing that couldn't be fixed. However, when Alistair turned back, Rorgen had disappeared. He looked around for a minute, a little frantic. He didn't really like the crowd at this moment - although Rorgen wasn't very easy to overlook. Finally, he located Rorgen, and fell into step beside him again, repressing the urge to berate him for running off.

Soon, they reached the carpark, approaching the car, Alistair told him, "Nice car." He wasn't being sarcastic - he did like it. Although he loved his own car better.

Alistair quickly slid in, folding his long body up so that it would fit inside. "P'rdon the mess. Dead fae was in here. I'll pay a vamp to lick it clean or something later." Alistair shrugged nonchalantly, not worried about it. "Fae blood comes off pretty easy, if you do it correctly," he murmured, then shut up.

Without warning, Rorgen let go of the wheel, and Alistair was forced to reach over and steer, frowning at Rorgen. Once Rorgen was done, he asked, "You still carry that silver pistol?" Alistair nodded. "Yeah. Think we'll need it?"

After a bit, Alistair and Rorgen settled into a comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to punctuate it with any noise. Suddenly, Alistair caught Rorgen answering a call. "R. Speaking. Indeed. Why?" Alistair smiled; like himself, Rorgen didn't answer with particularly long sentences, instead keeping it short and sweet. Slowly, Alistair became aware of the Were beside him growing tense, and shot him a concerned look.

"I've - I've got to go, man." "What?" Alistair asked, not sure he'd heard Rorgen correctly. Listening to Rorgen explain, he started to protest a little. "Rorgen, you can't - you're one of our better agents - " Rorgen didn't listen, however, and pulled up beside the road.

"A few kilometers or so. I'll p-pay for your cab. HQ called." "No - Rorgen - " Again, Alistair was ignored, and Rorgen drove away, after shoving the briefcase at Alistair. Soon, the cab pulled up, and Alistair jumped in, directing the driver to the site, still clutching the briefcase.

He pulled up outside Lab 86B, spotting Anastasia. He called out to her. "Hey, did you hear about Rorgen?" He was upset at having Rorgen leave - he'd liked Rorgen, and they worked well together.

Elena J. D'Angelo


The boy turned back to grin at her. "There's no need to thank me, I just did what any person would do in this situation. The fact that you're cute was just a bonus." Elena faltered a little. Did he... did he just call me cute? She leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes. I don't think I can deal with this. Not after Steven.

A minute later, the boy came back in, carrying a load of clothes and something that looked like a blanket. He flicked something on, and the room was filled with a warmth that made Elena shiver violently as the warmth swept through her body. The boy handed her some clothes and pointed behind him. "Bathrooms that way. Of course, if you wanted to change in the nice, warm, cozy, living room, I wouldn't mind at all." Elena frowned at him, trying to decide if he was kidding. Apparently not, for he raised the blanket, obscuring his own vision. "See? No peeking."

Elena decided she wouldn't take that chance, and started to get up, but her legs collapsed under her, sending her crashing to the floor. "Ouch!" It looked like her legs weren't up to working yet. Looking up at him, she told him quietly, "I guess I'll change here. But no looking!" After poking him to prove her point - it was all she could do anyway, she was still feeling weak - she turned away and started peeling off the layers of soaked clothes plastered to her skin. Gratefully, she replaced them with the warm clothes that he had provided. Granted, they were much larger, her being small and skinny, but they were preferable to her cold clothes.

While changing, she asked casually, "What's your name?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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#, as written by Lenyx
Anastasia glared over at Kiser while she tried to conceal her hand gripping the strap of her seat-belt. While she would never admit it out loud that she, herself drove fast and recklessly, however she despised it when she was not the one behind the wheel, the one in control. But recently Anastasia has not been the one in control, or at least she has had lack of control over things that she usually always had a handle on.

Anastasia tuned everything out until it was all hushed white noise, and focused on herself. She needed to regain her composure, her control, herself. Anastasia thought of her Aunt, the lazy, greedy, self absorbed bitch that was her father's sister. Forming all her anger towards the woman who wanted to take the large inheritance Anastasia's father had left her, into a ball in her abdomen, she felt it swelling and slowly fill her very being.

Anger, this was and still is, Anastasia's core, it was the one emotion she knew she expressed consistantly. The reason why, is quite simple, it is the only emotion Anastasia has been able to rein in and control, and should she lose control on it, it just made others around her either fear her, have them listen and do as they are told, or get peoples attention at least. So in Anastasia's mind there were no reason why she should change her ways now.
As Anastasia replayed the night she had killed her Aunt in her mind, she felt the muscles in her face relax into the usual hard-lined expression. She slid her hand up her arm, stopping where a scar remained, forever reminding her that love is nothing but pure fiction, lies humans spend their whole lives trying to convince to themselves are real. And trust? Family? They are fleeting, like dreams one may have and remember when they close their eyes at night.

Anger is real.

"We're here," Kiser said, "No, you can't take my license away from me," he added as he swiveled his body around to face Anastasia, leaning his elbow on the steering wheel, and with a grin he stated, "I don't have one."

Anastasia watched as Kiser slipped out of the car and around to her side with watchful eyes. "We haz arrived." he said in a horrible imitation of an accent that Anastasia noted he failed at after he opened her door. Smoothing her hair down and tying it back in a low ponytail, she stepped out of the car. Standing outside the car, she pulled her parka she had brought with her and pulled it on, zipping it up before she removed the gloves from the pockets and slipped them on. Kiser had pulled his phone out and was making a call, but Anastasia had work to do, whatever or whoever he was calling was not important to her in the least.

"Hey, did you hear about Rorgen?" Alistair's voice called out.

Anastasia had been walking around the remains of Lab 86B, but stopped to answer the IPAF member. “Yes, he was transferred suddenly and while I don't like it, it is not my call to make. If you have a complaint take it up with our superiors.” She shouted back to Alistair.

The remains were little more than rubble, but Anastasia could feel it... There was more to this malformed and shallow crater in the ground. 'What secrets lay hiding here?' Anastasia wondered, 'What could this building that is now nothing more than a garbage heap, offer her?'

Just after she finished, Anastasia heard a thumping noise... It was coming from... Below her?!

“Kiser! Alistair! Come here, now!” Anastasia demanded, and when they were by her side she added, “Shut up and listen.” Thump... Thump... “If you heard that, find a way to get it up here, or me a way down there.” She ordered.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Jenson Xion Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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#, as written by Layla
Ravenna ~ IPAF New York Headquarters


Life sucked.

No, Ravenna wasn't pessimistic in the least - God, people are annoying - she was merely realistic and all evidence supported the absolute dismal bleakness that was life. Her hair was so dark, it was as an oil slick might be if it were made of strands of silk, it swung across her shoulder blades as her fist knocked the punching bag backwards with a fury. The people - a majority of them men - looked at her curiously. Ravenna de Luca was well known, both as Italy's district leader, Gabriele de Luca's twin sister, but also as one of the most brutal trainers in all of IPAF and an even more brutal Fey huntress. She was beautiful, almost Fey-beautiful - almost - but so much so that one might mistaken her for a Faerie herself from afar. Well, a fool would be making a fatal mistake if he told her so or commented on her likeliness to the Fey.

Her fist mutilated the punching bag.

Well over two hours later, Ravenna rubbed at her damp hair - the only thing good about this place were the showers - the towel hanging around her shoulders. She was dressed in a tight-fitting, plain T and loose blue pants, her feet bare as they walked down the maze of hallways that made up the intricate network that was IPAF. People pressed themselves against walls as she passed, even the ones who were easily double her size and triple her weight. She'd requested a transfer from the IPAF headquarters beneath Italy not a week ago, her reasons, presumably, to avoid her brother.

Ravenna stopped.

She felt an odd man pass her by and she whirled around, her aqua eyes burning into his back as she tried to sense what was so wrong about him. He seemed to almost float above the floor, but he wasn't, his feet were where they should be, obeying the laws of gravity. She narrowed her eyes slight, pursing her lips. The man could not have been an intruder - IPAF's warning systems would've alarmed the entire world - and besides, he looked to be one of the Fey analysers. But he wasn't, she knew that, although she had no proof except the nagging in her gut and what proof was that, really? He couldn't have been Fey, either. More than 80% of IPAF was made of iron, a Fey would've crumbled to the ground by now. Whatever it was, she didn't like seeing his fishiness roaming about alive. Ravenna folded her face and body into a careful, loose mask of nonchalance.

"Doctor, doctor!" she called out, running towards the man in a false pre tense of girlish dimness. Surely, if he were truly a member of IPAF, he would ask her why she seemed so cheerful. Ravenna's coldness was notorious. "Doctor," she breathed a sigh of false relief, grabbing the man's wrist and resisting the urge to flinch. He felt... Weird. She kept the smile plastered to her face. "Thank god! Anastasia asked me to fetch you right this moment, she needs you to brief her on the condition of the Fey," she lied smoothly. Tugging at the man, she turned and dragged him willingly or not down a hallway filled with curious onlookers.

"Jenson, we might need that Fey girl's expertise. Lola, Looloo? Yeah, that one," she said quietly, clutching the doctor's wrist tighter unintentionally. She would take him to where Jenson was and nail him very securely to a wall. She meant, lock.

Yeah, right.

Dr. Freya Hirane ~ Laboratory 86B


It was dark.

Simple as that: dark. Dark and infinitely frightening. Who knew what lurked in the bleak, looming nothingness? Death? Freya whimpered, struggling with all her might not to cry. That in itself seemed to be an impossible feet. She'd been in the underground escape passage when the Fey came and ransacked the entire place, at least, that's what she'd gathered from the beastly sounds that had come to fill her senses. Not long after the cries for help and growls as beasts fought beasts - bless the Weres - were the sounds replaced by endless rounds of bullets and the crumbling of a structure. She'd rushing to the very end of the escape route, shivering as she covered her ears and prayed and hoped and waited expectantly for others to join her in the escape tunnels.

No one came.

She hadn't been able to open the heavy latch of the underground passageway and so she'd stayed there, too afraid to turn back and search for her fellow co-workers and guilty because of it. It was a blessing, that this route was sealed tight with fire-proof, debris-proof, monster-proof, Faerie-proof and god-knew-what-else-proof doors that might've shielded them from nuclear attacks. Why had she been there, one might ask. Well, that was a fair question. She might or might not have been chasing a robot.

Freya clutched it now, to her chest, her little robot friend by the name of Plue. Plue was an invention of hers, and a friend she held dear. He sometimes liked to wander and she wondered if he were psychic, to have led her here seconds before death came upon the others. Guilt bit at her consciousness.

Suddenly, there was a fall of rubble and a creek.

Image

Kiser rolled up the sleeves of his leather jacket, cracking his knuckles and neck. Not that he needed to, of course. But it was always nice to receive extra points for drama. Kiser scraped the debris from the area Anastasia had gestured towards, he sniffed and smelled nothing in the air, but anything that might've survived this destruction would surely be sound-proof. Let's just hope living beings - that we're Fey - loomed beneath. Kiser dug his fingers into the edges of the relatively large, human-sized square he saw beneath the rubble and inhaled. With a grunt, he slowly pulled the heavy - indefinitely thick - square up and after a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and his muscles bulged with the effort of it, the door finally came undone and he hurled it over his shoulder, casually aiming for Alistair. The piece he'd ripped from the stuck hinges of the ground was easily over thirty inches thick and damn, was that thing heavy. He was a Werelion and the alpha of his pack, at that. And-

"OH MY FREAKING GOD!" a young voice squealed, jumping from the literal hole she'd crawled out of and running at them with a speed almost inhuman for her little legs. Her long blonde hair danced behind her in a flurry, marred by dust. Kiser narrowed his eyes as the girl whizzed right past her and tackled Alistair to the ground. Well, well, he thought dimly.

Freya knew Alistair from college, as they'd both attended the same college, but she was younger, and had graduated earlier. She'd been the star of the class and she'd graduated with a medical degree before her 18th birthday. She was remarkable, to say the least. She was also very, very bubbly. She clutched Alistair furiously, clinging onto him and weeping into his shirt as if she hadn't seen another human being in a long while. Which, she probably hadn't. Freya wailed, repeating "Alistair, Alistair" through her tears. She was a small, loud thing, being barely over 5 feet and having the volume of a football coach.

"There, there," Kiser said gruffly, grabbing the young woman - who could not have been older than twenty - by the collar of her lab coat and dangling her in front of him. He squinted, swinging the wee thing around and turning his wrist so he could see her face. "You're not impressive at all," he said.

Freya puffed out her cheeks like an angry kitten, crossing her arms defiantly before her chest. "I am very impressive, thank you very much. In fact, I'm adorable, or so I'm told."

"You've been told wrong, kitten," he said, his point further proven when she hissed as a peeved cat would, baring her vicious little fangs at him. Kiser forced the smile away from his face, resisting the urge to tell her how cute she was. She reached out her arms, attempting to scratch Kiser's face off; he merely stretched out his arm and kept her far from his flawless head. "What's your name?"

She stuck up her nose, pursing her lips shut.

"Ah well, looks like she's no help to us, Ana. We'll just have to put her back in whatever hole she came from," he said with a shrug, making a show of dangling her and slowly lowering the girl into the hole she'd been in moments before.

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT! Freya! It's Freya! But that's Dr. Hirane to you," she said with a scowl.

Kiser burst into laughter, swinging the girl recklessly from his hand and igniting frightened squeals from the blonde bobble-head. "You? A doctor?" The girl nodded defiantly, struggling not to look like she was about to puke. "Really? Prove it," Kiser said.

"I will if you let me down," she replied.

"Orrrr," he purred. "You prove it to us and then I might consider letting you down. Freya grunted, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out an ID card, waving it in front of the Werelion's face. The card read:

'International Fey Extraction Branch [IFEB]

Dr. Freya Hirane
B63271223
Junior Assistant
D.O.B.: 05/09/2001
D.I.: 25/01/2018
C.O.O.: Australia'

Kiser's eyes narrowed, slightly, almost imperceptibly and he shook his head in a movement that was so small, most would not have seen it. But Freya did. Her eyes filled with confusion at first, and then realisation. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it at a stern stare from Kiser. She tucked her identification card back into her coat pocket and Kiser let her go, abruptly, so that she fell to the ground. She moaned, rubbing her sore backside and frowning at the ground. She wondered if she'd imagined it all and when she looked up to see the man's nonchalant face, she sighed, she'd imagined it, after all.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm ravenous," she complained. "OH MY GOD, CAR!" she gushed, gawking at Kiser's car and running towards it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James
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#, as written by Lenyx
Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest as Kiser lifted what appeared to be some sort of vault door. Hopefully whatever was under it would be usef--

OH MY FREAKING GOD!” A femine voice squealed, and with the voice came a small woman that ran to Alistair and tackled him to the ground.

Anastasia frowned at first but it quickly turned in to a smirk when Kiser picked the woman up by her lab coat collar and turned her so he could see her face. She had to really try to contain herself and keep from laughing at the woman, named Freya, and Kiser's conversation. But soon enough a scowl replaced it as she watched Freya raced off towards Kiser's car. Anastasia followed and while Freya gushed over the car, she snagged the ID card from the woman's lab coat pocket.

'International Fey Extraction Branch [IFEB]

Dr. Freya Hirane
B63271223
Junior Assistant
D.O.B.: 05/09/2001
D.I.: 25/01/2018
C.O.O.: Australia'


Anastasia looked at the ID card and then back at Kiser. “She does remind me of a cat I once had.” She chuckled, before grabbing Freya's lab coat and pinned her against the car.

Putting the ID card into her pants pocket, Anastasia pulled the gun from the holster on her hip and pointed it at Freya's forehead. “Well today may be your lucky day, and the worse day of your life. You want food, answer my questions. You want to live, answer me honestly and fully. If you don't wish to comply I will have Kiser here,” Anastasia nodded towards him. “Put you back in that hole and we will leave you there.”

"O-okay, relax, relax," Freya said hastily, holding up her palms in surrender. "I'll answer any of your questions," she said, her gaze darting from side to side and burning into Alistair. Help me, she sent to him quietly as if the thoughts might fly from her mind to his. "What do you want to know?" she asked Anastasia, looking at her nose to avoid her eyes. Freya recognized the woman as the New York district leader, well known for her... Flattering personality.

Anastasia smiled and released the woman's lab coat, but never moved the gun away from Freya's forehead. “First question, what does the IPAF do with the Fey its members capture?”

Freya stared at Anastasia with puzzlement, squinting closer to make sure the woman was whom she thought she was. "You don't know? But Mr. Burntwo-" Kiser shook his head a fraction of an inch. "I mean, well, uh..." Freya turned her attention back to Anastasia. "Well, umm... They take them," she said slowly. "And put them in confinement. Some - most - will be sent to the various laboratories where we," Freya grinned and as if she were proud, and said with a grin, "Dissect them."

"We should take her to the interrogation rooms, rather than do this here," Kiser said, moving forward to take Freya.

Anastasia pulled her rapier out with her free hand and in the blink of an eye pointed it at Kiser's throat, forcing him to back away from Freya. “No.” She said coldly. “Here is perfect. No one to interfere with me. Unless...” She looked at Kiser from the corner of her eye. “You wish to intervene dear, which I would advise against. I have a gun and a sword and I fear nothing.”

Anastasia looked back at Freya, both weapons held strong and steady at both Kiser and the woman. “Why do you dissect them? Are you looking for something within the Fey? Tell me what you know. Now.”

"My dearest Ana," Kiser began, loosening his shoulders and looking nonchalant and as Kiser always was. Not suspicious at all. "There's no need to get all violent," he said, pushing the rapier gently away.

"What a scary woman," Freya muttered under her breath before quickly explaining with a little too much enthusiasm, "We're trying to figure out how they do what they do and how we can be like them. We also learn their strengths and weaknesses. We studied the Fey long before they came to Earth, but then we called them UFOs and we'd never seen one before, until six months ago. But before that we were called the International Extraneous Observation - IEOs. NASA teamed up with some other, similar international groups and governments. We were really excited when the Fey came and IPAF sends us all their Fey to study." Freya beamed. "It's all so interesting. Their internal organs are a lot like a human's, you know. But their brains are really different, instead of being jelly-like, it's sort of like trillions and gazillions of micro-strands woven together." Freya sighed wistfully. "They're beautiful. Works of art, really.”

"Did you know!" she gushed. "When you put Type A and Type D Fey together, they can cause each other vicious harm? One of them seems to disintegrate and the other melts! Type B and Type C Fey are similar, but their destruction isn't as brutal. Oh and their blood. Type B blood can heal, you know! We drain those that become unstable and we've been trying to turn their blood into medicine. It might even be able to cure Cancer!" The doctor seemed to be talking to no one in particular now, rather lost in the fascinating creatures that were the Fey. "We've been seeing if its possible for them to reproduce but we haven't had any successful results," she sighed, shaking her head in dismay. "They have reproductive systems, like humans, but they, just, can't reproduce. We have a theory that they're a bit like bees. There's the Queen Bee," she said, gesturing. "And she's the only one who can reproduce but... We don't know. Well, maybe I don't. I'm a Junior Assistant so really, I don't know that much." Freya sighed wistfully. "Yet."

Anastasia glared at Kiser and pushed the rapier back towards his neck. “Did you know all this Kiser? So help me God if you did, you better have a good reason for not telling me all this, so until I speak to you directly, Shut up and stay where you are. I have Leau to think of and thankfully for her, she had me take her in to save her from being dissected! She was not protecting me, I was protecting her from sick bastards like this woman!”

She turned to face Freya, anger was written all over her face and her piercing glare was in line with Freya's eyes. “I could care less if the Fae could somehow cure cancer,” Anastasia spat at the woman. “Why in the bloody hell would anyone want to be like the Fae? We have our hands full enough with the Vampires and Were-Beasts, now we want to have Fae people to?” Pushing the gun right between Freya's eyes Anastasia leaned in close to the woman's face. “What is it exactly the IPAF is looking for in regards to becoming like the Fae?” She hissed. “And if you think I'm scary now, try being like the asshole here and see how scary I can really be.”

Kiser frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he turned around after shooting Freya a grim glare. He ran, tearing his leather jacket from his body and tossing it aside as he ran, faster, faster, until he was running at an inhuman speed. Midair in a leap, his body rippled into a lion - bigger than any ordinary lion could've been - and he disappeared into the trees.

Anastasia smirked as she watched Kiser transformed into his lion form. She slid her rapier back in to its sheath as she listened to Freya answering her question.

"I don't know," Freya said sincerely. She really didn't. "Like I said, I'm a junior assistant. I don't even know if they're trying to be like the Fey, I know know we're trying to figure out how they tick and that I would love to be a Fey," she said with a grin. "What I do know is what we're doing here is attempting to recreate the Fey, as in, make more," she said with a shrug. "We haven't been successful." And as if an afterthought, she narrowed her eyes at the pistol between her blue orbs. "Umm, could you not point that thing at me? I don't think well with a gun to my head and in case you haven't noticed, I just spent hell in a literal hole.”

"Whatever your problem with IFEB, take it up with them. I'm a teenager with a smarter brain than most who's repaying her scholarship, not a child smuggler"

Free now, Anastasia was able to ask what she had been wanting to for some time, but wouldn't with Kiser's eyes and ears so close by. “You mentioned a name a Mr. Burn...” Anastasia pulled the gun away from the woman's face by a few inches. “Who is he, what does he do, and where can I find him?”

Freya stared at Anastasia, her face warped in confusion. "Mr. Burntwood is a high-ranked IPAF operative..." she said slowly, as if to a mentally unstable child. "He's on the IPAF Council and your superior," she said, searching for some inkling of recognition in Anastasia's eyes. "Mr. Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood, Miss Varias, is your Werelion friend."

Anastasia's suspicions were confirmed. “That son of a bitch... Is a god damned IPAF Council member.”

Pulling Freya's ID card out from her pocket and after taking a few steps back, away from Freya, Anastasia throws the card off in to the air beside her. Anastasia lifted her Walther PPK and took aim, waiting for—Now! Her finger pulled back the trigger and the bullet flew from the barrel, time for Anastasia seemed to slow down to a crawl, the bullet pierced the wind in the air as it went on its way towards the ID card. Just as the ID card flipped in the wind, the bullet traveled through its center. The force of the wind and bullet made the card bounce, twist and flip in the air, but Anastasia was not satisfied. She quickly loosed another bullet shortly after the first, making sure to take in to account how the card would be affected by the environment, the second bullet flew through the air and pierced the card a mere fraction from where the first bullet went through. A third shot rang out, the wind was changing and the card was thrown in to a wild series of twists and flips, but that did not matter. The third bullet took its mark, passing through on the opposite side the second bullet had. A sudden gust of wind took whatever was left of the card, to fly twisting, flipping and become lost among the ruins that once served as Lab 86B.

Sliding her gun back in to the holster on her side, Anastasia, and her gun were content. She now took the time to acknowledge the IPAF agent that was here.

“Alistair, take this woman back to headquarters and lock in an interrogation room. Do not let her out, give her some food and water. But nothing else. She is to see and speak to no one. She will stay in that room with you outside the door until I get back. Disregard these orders and you will end up like that ID card.” Anastasia pulled out a cigarette and her lighter, putting the cigarette in her mouth and lighting it as she walked away, in the direction Kiser had gone off in. “I think Kiser left the keys in the car, take it.”

She had a Werelion to find.

But not before she put a call in. Anastasia tapped the button on her ear piece. “Yes Ma'am?”

“Maria, patch me through to Leau, private and secure line.” Anastasia took a drag from her cigarette as she waited for the call to connect. A small click and Leau would hear her. “Leau, listen well and do as I damn well say this time. Get back to headquarters and find that Fey we brought in. Get it out of there and the two of you go bunker down somewhere until I get in contact with you. Do not question why, just fucking do it, and should you see Kiser, shoot him and keep running. You hear me? We will talk about your little stunt later, I have a Werelion to hunt and put a bullet in.” Anastasia was about to end the call but stopped herself and added, “Take care of yourself Leau, and for the love of God be careful.”

She ended the call but connected back to the command center. “Maria, private and secure line to Kiser. Now.”

“Yes Ma'am.”

The soft click sounded in Anastasia's ear and after taking another drag from her cigarette she flicked it away and took a deep breath.

KISER!” She screamed. “You get your furry lion ass to me right now, you God damn bastard! IPAF Council member? You lying sack of shit. I have a bullet here with you name written all over it, so unless you tell me what the fuck is going on... YOU ARE A DEAD!”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James Character Portrait: Faust
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#, as written by Kuroe
The crow flew, nearly invisible against the night sky, drawn through the biting air to a destination unknown to even itself. As it dipped lower towards the lights below it, it angled itself ever so slightly to the left, flying in a circle high above a building. It had no reason for doing this: it merely knew that it must do so.
Thus, one by one, the sound of more of its kind reached it through the space, all flapping wings and the sound of their thin bodies piercing the solid wall of icy air like a spear. But the one thing that was lacking was the noise. Though the birds circled, a dark mass wheeling through the air, they uttered not a call, not a noise from their beaks. They had no true reason for doing this: they merely knew that the must not do so.

A figure stood upon the edge of the building, its small form and light head of hair offering a contrast to the dark sky that the crows above it did not. Its expression was odd, a bit of dark red peeking out from beneath its half closed eyes, the mouth turned up in a small grin that gave off a feeling of cold emptiness rather than the happiness that it might have portrayed, had its owner possessed a different visage.
"Welcome, Faust..." The figure breathed to himself, for it now was almost assuredly a man or at least a boy, his voice betraying a certain youth that his features, though hard to tell at first glance, also possessed. But his breath did not mist in the air, no, for this figure's body, down to his very soul... was colder than any of this stagnant air it breathed, harsher than all the years it had endured, and yet softer than the finest gossamer silk woven by a spider to ensnare its unwitting prey.
"Welcome... To hell..." The figure finished with a whisper, his grin splitting apart to reveal the two rows of sharp white teeth which would not have looked out of place on a predatory animal.

And with that, Faust turned and melted away under the wheeling, dark crows in the sky.

∎ ∎ ∎

Faust chuckled softly from his position, sitting atop the car of the New York IPAF branch head. So this was the head of the New York branch of the IPAF...
Faust stood up. "Anastasia Varias, may I have a word...?" He asked loud enough for her to hear.
Without waiting for an answer, he stepped down to the ground and swiveled his gaze to the other IPAF member. "Alistair, she called you? As IPAF Councilman Faust, I order you to stand down immediately."
Finally, again without waiting for a reply, he turned to the scientist.
"And you... You have divulged secrets of the IPAF to unauthorized personnel." His eyes met hers and he opened them entirely, staring at her and willing images into her head. Whether or not it, worked, and what the images were did not matter, but for a few moment she was frozen, either way. He simply had to reach out his hand and slam her head against the side of the car and she fell to the ground like a doll.
Scarlet red stained her hair where her head had connected with the car, but Faust ignored it for the moment. She had no use to him, of course, and it would be no loss if she died.

He looked back up at the armed woman before him. "Anastasia Varias. I can either be your judge, your jury, your witness, and your executioner... Or you can forget every single word that left that girl's lips." He dipped his head to gesture at the limp woman lying at his feet. "The choice, my dear, lies in your hands. And so I bid you a good night, my children. I have other matters to attend to."

And with that, he plucked the little scientist girl from the earth and, slinging her over his shoulder, turned to leave.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James Character Portrait: Faust
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#, as written by Layla
Image


Months ago, when Anastasia had first 'adopted' her little pet Faerie - because, honestly, did she think she could keep such things from the Council with its strongest of all creatures? - Kiser, or rather, Caesar - they were both pronounced the same way - had decided to investigate. Of course, being Caesar, he'd trusted no one but himself and chose not to send a representative to spy on the New York district leader. Rather, he came himself. It was easy enough, pretending to be someone he was not. All members of the Council were unknown to most, except to one another and even then, sometimes it was not known. You see, there were more than just Vampires, just Werewolves, just Faeries and just Shifters in the world. There were Witches, Demons, Angels... And let's just say, he wasn't entirely Werelion.

The Council consisted of ten members, and they were vicious, brutal... And ambitious. Formed in 2000 B.C., the Council oversaw all the world's supernaturals, even the ones not native to Earth. Each species had one 'representative' on the Council but that turned to dust when the species intermingled and no longer became pure. This grew dangerous, as a Vampire with a Were's resistance to the Sun was deadly, no longer constrained by daylight. A Demon with an Angel's beauty manifested in Sirens, the Succubus, the Incubus and more. A Witch with a Demon's taint and need for cruelty could drive villages to peril and end. They grew too powerful, and the world suffered in due cause.

And so, in the abyss of an eclipse, the Council with its ten members - each pure and unmarred by the foreign blood of another - gathered in ritual. They formed a circle, a line that could not be shattered that bound them all and tore their sisters and brothers apart. One by one, all of the Halflings - or the Children of Mist - perished. Their skin cracked and shattered as they screamed in agony, their very existence drained from them to fill each Council member. It was no blessing, to carry the blood of every Child of Mist that had died by their magic. They would live a life apart from all, never able to rest. An immortal Vampire, Demon or Angel had weaknesses, able to die when their hearts were ripped from beneath their ribs but not these ten True Immortals. They would never die, even when they wished to, and so many did.

Their removal of the Children of Mist did not take into account the creatures who were but a fraction of another and so, Vampires grew to walk in daylight and Weres who'd bred with Devils would create Weres who no longer turned into half-beasts and half-humans only during the full moon. Rather, they could turn as they wished and they would look almost wholly beast. And the Witches... The Council hunted each and every one - or those that they could find - so that they may find a way to die and end whatever suffering they might have but alas, no Witch could find a 'cure,' and those who didn't, were killed.

There was one, however, who was rumoured to have hair woven from moon and starlight and eyes that were ever-changing, like the tides of which she'd created. The civilisations throughout the years praised her, as Hera, Isis, Artemis, Ceridwen, God. She was rumoured amongst the supernaturals to be capable of Unmaking and Creation and she alone could Unmake the Council members who'd spent so long Existing. Even the Angels sought her. But she was said to be from another world, neither Heaven nor Hell, and so they searched for portals that would bring them to her. She'd evaporated into myth in time, until few sought for this realm between Heaven and Hell.

All hope had been lost, until the Fey.

Some of the Council - many - searched for her amongst the Fey in order to know death, but some sought the control of Earth. It was too little, to simply have Weres and Vampires made known, they wished for the supernaturals to be made Kings and Queens and the humans, slaves. The Fey rivalled the number of Supernaturals and together with the Earth's, Hell's and Heaven's supernaturals, they would be capable to defeating the humans and their weaponry who'd so long controlled them. But working with the Faeries was not the way of ancients - however ancient or more so the Fey themselves might be - and they sought to control the Faeries.

Kiser didn't care, he merely wished to die.

It was a peculiar thing, eternity. Weres were not Vampires and rocks knew Vampires had an expiry date. They were too prone to accidents and wood was much too common. Few purebloods made it to their thousandth birthdays. Weres, however, rarely lived past two hundred, and he'd lost countless. Not to mention, eternity was boring. Really, alcohol only worked to a certain extent.

“KISER! You get your furry lion ass to me right now, you God damn bastard! IPAF Council member? You lying sack of shit. I have a bullet here with you name written all over it, so unless you tell me what the fuck is going on... YOU ARE A DEAD!” yelled a raging Anastasia.

Kiser laughed, his bare shoulders shaking as he leaned against a tree, wearing nothing but his pants; he had clothes hidden behind every bush and bark. Kill him? If only. Suddenly there was a deafening screech as Ana's communicator... Crashed to the ground? Kiser pushed himself from the tree and ran from where he'd gone, back to Anastasia's side. But she was no longer left with just the ditzy scientist.

"Faust," he said with a frown. He'd known Faust for a long time and that to a Council member was a really bloody long time. Too long. "What are you doing here?" he asked irritably. Kiser had come to observe if Anastasia could continue to be trusted with a Fey by her side and dispose of her accordingly if she deemed unfit for duty. His eyes wandered to the doctor's figure slung over Faust's shoulder, crimson blood pooling from her head and drenching her blonde hair red, trickling down the silk strands. "That was unnecessary," he said coldly. "She would have gone with not a threat."

Kiser turned his gaze to Anastasia, his emerald green eyes void of any emotion, any indication of his thoughts. He did not hold out his hand for a handshake, for he knew Anastasia would not have accepted it. "I believe we've not been formally introduced. I am Caeser," he said in an accent that was not his 'usual' American. It sounded to be a Latin accent, had Latin been heard in this time. Perhaps its closest living relative in accents was Italian. "Hinder yourself not, I mean you no harm. Unlike the boy here," Kiser said tersely, darting his eyes briefly to Faust without moving his head. The mostly-Vampire, of course, was not a boy in the least. "I would recommend life over death," he said to Anastasia and then quietly, "For you.

"You, as well," he said to Alistair, as if an afterthought.

He turned around then, and nodded to Faust, indicating that he should come as well. Kiser gave Anastasia one last glance, a look in his eyes that seemed to be an apology, and something else, something true. He loved her, however much deception he might've subjected her to. Kiser the not-quite Werelion leaped into the air with a push of his feet, a jump so high no normal Were could've been capable of it in its human form.

And from his back, as white and pure as the brightest of pearls and as beautiful as the light that stained his skin - sprouted a pair of Angel's wings.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elena J. D'Angelo Character Portrait: Justin Maysharp Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Jenson Xion Character Portrait: Alistair D. James Character Portrait: Faust
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Alistair D. James


Anastasia didn't seem very pleased at Alistair's question. Sure, it wasn't obvious, but from the years of experience Alistair had, he saw the slight pursing of her lips, and the way her tone went up a little.

He brooded over Rorgen. Sure, maybe Rorgen wasn't exactly like Alistair - he swore a lot, and wasn't exactly the tidiest person Alistair had ever met, but he was one of the few Alistair enjoyed working with. He really, really didn't like this arrangement.

Alistair was pulled from his thoughts by Anastasia's voice. "Kiser! Alistair! Come here now!" Alistair loped gracefully to stand beside Anastasia, following her gaze to the rubble. He couldn't see anything.

And then he heard it. A thumping nose... what was down there? Apparently Anastasia wanted to know too, for she ordered, "If you heard that, find a way to get it up here, or me a way down there." Typical Anastasia, always assuming the answer was so easy.

Alistair looked around, trying to find a way down. He heard something shifting, and, anticipating Kiser's move, ducked before whatever it was Kiser had lobbed at him sailed over his head easily. Now, there was someone Alistair would gladly trade for Rorgen.

"OH MY FREAKING GOD!" Alistair winced as a girly voice pierced through the air. It hurt his ears, and was, unfortunately, a sound he was very familiar with. Not just the choice of words, but the voice - dear God in Heaven.

Blonde hair filled his vision, and before he knew it, Alistair had been tackled to the ground. He grunted as his back hit the hard ground, the impact further emphasised by the slight weight on him. "Freya, get off," he managed, sitting up. He was uncomfortably unaware of the fact that Freya was crying his name over and over. He cringed, wondering if Kiser would let him live it down.

Thankfully, Kiser rescued him by lifting the girl off him. A rather irritated Alistair dusted himself off and cleaned his glasses while Kiser dealt with the girl. He'd never really liked Freya - too loud for his liking.

Just as Alistair thought that maybe things would take a turn for the better, Freya squealed again. "OH MY GOD, CAR!" "Could you stop it with the 'oh my God's?" Alistair muttered under his breath.

Before Alistair could do anything, Anastasia had slammed Freya against the car, a gun pointing at her head. "Anastasia, there's really no need for that..." Alistair started, striding towards them, but he was ignored. Alistair made an annoyed face. He hated being thought inferior because he was the youngest member of their team. Considering the things he'd did for them, he was definitely counted as older... at least, older than that immature Jenson.

Freya caught Alistair's gaze, silently pleading for help, but he shrugged, telling her that he couldn't do anything about it. He listened to the interrogation, getting more and more interested. He smirked at Freya's offered information, knowing that Kiser was in trouble, though he didn't know why, exactly.

Without warning, Kiser transformed and ran away. Alistair watched him, knowing there would be other chances to get him. Right now, though, there was the issue of what IPAF was doing with the Fey. Alistair was disgusted - he had no idea the people he worked for actually did that kind of things.

Alistair was so angry, he almost didn't catch Anastasia's next command. "Alistair, take this woman back to headquarters and lock her in an interrogation room. Do not let her out, give her some food and water. But nothing else. She is to see and speak to no one. She will stay in that room with you outside the door until I get back. Disregard these orders and you will end up like that ID card." Alistair glanced around for the aforementioned ID card, though he didn't see it. No matter, he wouldn't dream of defying Anastasia. Unless, of course, she was in on the Fey dissecting, but Alistair was sure she wasn't.

"I think Kiser left the keys in the car, take it." Alistair grinned. Driving Kiser's car - something he'd always wanted to do, but of course he was too nice to do it. But now he had an excuse.

He took firm hold of Freya's arm. Though his grip wasn't too tight, Freya winced, as though he'd just done something worse. Unfortunately, they were interrupted. "Anastasia Varias, may I have a word?" Alistair sighed. This day was never going to end.

A person - probably not human, by the looks of it - stepped towards Anastasia. Instinctively, Alistair's hand went to his pistol at his side, ready to shoot if needed. It went without saying that the bullets were silver, however they probably wouldn't work against this one. Too slender, too fast - Alistair would wager a hand that this was a vampire. Of course, he had stakes as well. Alistair James was a well-prepared man.

"Alistair, she called you? As IPAF Councilman Faust, I order you to stand down immediately." Alistair's eyebrows went up in disbelief. "You son of a - " he started angrily, starting towards Faust, dropping Freya's arm. Wrong decision. Faust immediately knocked Freya out, and turned on Anastasia.

As if on cue, Kiser appeared again. Alistair sighed - his head was spinning. What was going on here? This is what happens when you're a junior member. He resolved to go out with Elena after this was all over.

Kiser leapt into the air, and the most amazing thing happened - wings sprouted out his back. "Oh, God," Alistair muttered again, burying his face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs into his closed eyes. He was hallucinating, he was sure of it.

Elena J. D'Angelo


Elena stared down at herself, hardly believing her eyes. The jersey and shorts she'd put on were far too large for her, unfortunately. She was sure she looked tiny.

The boy managed to successfully distract her, however. His hand passed over his face, and Elena wondered what he was doing. His expression remained more or less the same, Elena thought. Wasn't that move from some movie many years ago, though? Elena couldn't remember. Something that involved a lion.

"Justin Maysharp, at your service." Elena nodded. She thought it was a nice name. "And what, may I ask, is your name?"

Taking his hand, Elena smiled gratefully. "Elena D'Angelo. Thanks for, uh, everything back there. I guess I owe you quite a bit, huh?" She ran a hand through her hair uneasily, not quite sure how to thank this person who had, most likely, saved her life.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood Character Portrait: Alistair D. James Character Portrait: Faust
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#, as written by Lenyx
Anastasia was left standing with Alistair, open-mouthed and perplexed by what the fuck just happened. Some vampire named Faust shows up out of nowhere and tells Alistair to ignore her orders, slammed the hyperactive girl's head in to the side of Kiser's car and then of all the worst things to do... He threatened Anastasia's life.

Anastasia never got a chance to counter the threat for Kiser returned, telling her in some old sounding accent that his name Caeser and agreeing with the vampire, Faust, that Anastasia should forget all that she has learned and heard. Anastasia was ready to lay in to both men, telling them exactly where they can shove their ego's, when Kiser jumped in to the air when from his back a pair of pure white angelic wings. They practically lit up the area around them, and then both Kiser and Faust were gone... Leaving Anastasia and Alistair at the ruins of Lab 86B.

Once Anastasia's mind returned to its proper and usual analytical thought process, she found she was still on call with Kiser. She could at least still give him an earful.

“You son of a bitch. Your a council member and some werelion angel... Thing[/]?!” She couldn't think of a better way of describing what it was Kiser could possibly be. “What the hell do you mean by calling yourself Caeser? Who the fuck is Faust? Anything else you want to tell me now? Here I actually started to believe it was possible someone really cared about me for who I am. Well that is a load of shit now is it not? My constant opinion of this concept of [i]love is bullshit and happiness is non-existant! So Kiser, Caeser whoever you are... Fuck you! The world would be better with people like you and Faust dead!” Anastasia took a breathe a ripped her glasses from her face. “Also tell that asshole Faust, from me, 'Fuck you too'. I'm not some mindless, obedient dog who answers to a master. I am the master, and I should be the only one who has the right to chain and collar the werelion Kiser.” A wicked smile showed itself on Anastasia's face. “I am a master, for other than myself, there are no IPAF member who has chained and collared a Fae.”

Suddenly the call ended and instead was replaced with the voice of Maria from the Command Center. “Ma'am there is an emergency here at headquarters. Reports of Fae breaking in and roaming the halls are coming in.”

“Have you heard from Leau?” Anastasia demanded opening the door to Kiser's car.

“No ma'am.”

'Good.' Anastasia thought to herself. “Alright get all non-combat personnel to safe rooms, everyone else assign to lock down. Seal the exits. Manually if you have to. Keep those bastards in there.”

Pulling out her ear piece, Anastasia dropped it to the ground and with her foot smashed it to pieces. Then she turned to Alistair. “Keys are in the ignition, we go back to headquarters. Apparently we have some uninvited guests there. I hope you don't mind driving... Or speeding.” She added with a devilish grin before sliding in to the passenger seat and closing the door.

Rolling down the window she shouted at Alistair. “Let's go! We'll deal with the whatever they want to be called assholes later.”

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