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Anastasia Varias

"You're to quiet, Leau. I don't care if you're a Fey, you're in New York. Start bloody well acting like it."

0 · 362 views · located in Earth

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


♦Full name: Anastasia Varias♦
Headstrong - Trapt


♦General Information♦

Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Age: 28
Species: Human
Role: The Leader


Height: 5'3”

Appearance: Anastasia has thick coffee brown hair that falls just below her backside in length. With her piercing gray-blue eyes, she observes and analyzes situations, through oval-rimmed glasses. She has a smooth, rosy complexion, and on the upper part of Anastasia right arm, she has a scar from being slashed by by her aunt.

While Anastasia has no noticeable piercings, she does in fact have one; After having a fight with her father, and in a fit of rebelling, Anastasia had an older friend go with her to get her tongue pierced. Aside from her tongue being pierced, she also has an armband tattoo of blue roses connected by sharp prickled stems on her left upper arm..

Anastasia is often seen wearing either a blue or red ascot and black suit, along with a pair of black heeled combat boots. Anastasia usually allows her hair to hang freely, but when she is to be seen as a capable and strong leader, she pulls it back into a high ponytail making others perceive Anastasia as an authoritative figure.


Quirks: Anastasia has but one vice, smoking cigars and cigarettes; Which she seems to always be seen either lighting, or putting one out.

Likes: Bitter dark chocolate, Red wine, Cigars/Cigarettes, Guns, Fencing, Professional clothing.

Dislikes: Hard Liquor, Popcorn, Frilly clothing, Things that break easy, Ignorance, Apathetic people.

Personality: Anastasia is very intelligent, but is still fairly young and inexperienced as a leader. However, she makes up for this in her stern and unbending will, by not backing down, no matter the situation. Anastasia is usually a collected individual, rarely allowing her emotions to get in the way of business, she though, prone to fits of anger. Anastasia runs the IPAF with charisma and dedication, as since she was a child Anastasia had developed a deep sense of duty; Not standing for anything that may threaten her or the IPAF.

Anastasia values her duties to protect humanity above everything else. For Anatasia, failure is not tolerated, especially if it is her own. Being the leader, and a woman no less, she sometimes struggles to maintain respect from members of the IPAF. Some members have questioned her judgment, and some have even gone as far as to scold her. It is in such moments that Anastasia shows an important characteristic of obligation, by taking full responsibility and with a direct hold on her emotions and a genuinely sincere expression.

Keeping the honor of her family’s name matters to her a great deal, and is even above her sense of duty. Anastasia's struggle is to become a better leader and to confront the Fey as a common human on the front. Her icy demeanor, lack of anything resembling a sense of humor, and arrogance in the face of the far more capable Fey are a constant cause of trouble for herself and those who serve her.

Preferred Weapons: Anastasia is a superb fencer with fast reflexes and speed, preferring a practical rapier. She’s been rumored to be capable of cutting down a vampire attacking her head on. Her aim with a pistol, specifically a Walther PPK, is deadly accurate, as well.

Image♦Personal history♦

Biography: Born on July 7th, 1992 into the prestigious European Varias family. Anastasia had been sheltered and educated all her life to protect herself and those she cared about by her father who worked in law enforcement. Anastasia, as a child was more timid than she is now, yet she was a very willful girl, being brought up to have a commanding presence. When she was 16 yeas old, her father passed away and entrusted a large inheritance that she would put towards furthering her education. Shortly after her father's death she was sent to live with her aunt, who was to be her new guardian, in New York.

But her aunt was devastated when she found that she had no legal rights to the inheritance, for she had imagined she would now live in the lap of luxury, and so she attempted to kill Anastasia. Anastasia escaped from her aunt and managed to make her way through the streets of Manhattan to Central Park. Hoping to have lost her aunt by taking odd turns and running through traffic she stumbled through the park to the lake and leaned against a tree trying to catch her breath.

But her hope of losing her aunt was short lived, when her aunt reached around the tree, grabbed Anastasia by her shirt and threw her to the ground. Her aunt in a desperate attempt to kill Anastasia one more time, believing Anastasia would be to stunned to avoid the knife coming down at her. But Anatasia's father had taught her well, rolling to the side, Anastasia avoided the knife coming down at her and kicked her leg out, knocking the knife out of her aunts hand. Both went after the fallen knife and after a brief struggle, Anastasia held the knife and as her aunt flung herself over her, Anastasia screamed as she shoved the knife into her aunt's throat.

Blood covered Anastasia's clothes, face and hair, all of it belonging to her aunt, with the exception of the blood on her arm, which was her own. The NYPD picked Anastasia up as she was walking back to her aunt’s house in a daze. Anastasia then put in foster care, and while their were families who took her in, they never last long. It seemed no one wanted a stubborn, unbending and cold teenager who murdered her own aunt, no matter what the circumstances were.

12 years later, Anastasia joined the IPAF it didn’t take long for her to rise up to becoming the leader of IPAF, she was dedicated and a hard-worker after all. But many members of the IPAF felt she was still too young, even at the age of 28, to fulfill her duty. It was shortly after becoming the new leader of the IPAF that Anastasia met Leau.

It was after an IPAF meeting where Anastasia met with members of the IPAF in regards to discussions related to the Fey. Not only did it not go smoothly as planned, but there was a lot of disagreements on every issue that came up for discussion. So after the miserable meeting, Anastasia went out for a walk, alone. During her walk through a nearby park is where Anastasia came across an odd child-like Fey. Anastasia probed Leau for answers, and while her first tactic was to be kind, it led nowhere. So Anastasia moved to aggravating the Fey instead, and it worked. After a very quick fight, resulting in Anastasia shooting Leau in the arm twice, and gave her a choice; Join Anastasia in IPAF, or die. Anastasia got more than she could have hoped for, not only information, but a guardian as well, a Fey guardian.

But with Leau at her side, she was more confidant and comfortable with her position as a leader. Within 6 months of joining the IPAF, Anastasia experiences a coming of age, gaining experience and losing her little innocence she had left, transforming into a leader with an iron resolution who does not flinch at the first sign of danger and who gains wisdom through dire losses and betrayals. Anastasia has also grown closer to Leau over the past 6 months, not so close that they consider each other friends, but at least they get along to a degree.


So begins...

Anastasia Varias's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias
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#, as written by Lenyx
Anastasia walked briskly through the IPAF headquarter hallways to the command center, with an aura radiating that of controlled anger, and determination in every step. She was pissed off, and everyone jumped to get out of her way. It had been bad enough she was subjected to yet another meeting in regards to Leau's actions, her disobedience and her inability to play nice with others. But now Anastasia was informed Leau had left headquarters and something was happening in New York. But no one had reported in yet to confirm or update what was going on out there.

As she approached the guard next to the door of the command center, Anastasia held up her ID. Which identified her as having authorization to enter the command center. The guard opened the door for Anastasia, as she removed her black suit jacket, revealing a white satin blouse, and upon entering the room, thrust her jacket in to the nearest person’s hands.

“I want an update. What is going on out there?” Anastasia demanded, pulling out and lighting a cigarette.

The command center was a very extensive room, where not ten feet in front of the door, on a slightly lower level, were the two main computers. On the far wall were three large screens, each one showing larger images of whatever was being monitored. Along the sides of the room more computers lined up against the walls. While in the center of the room, was where a holographic map took up a permanent residence. Each station monitored something different, weather forecasts, radio signals, communications, personnel support… Hell they even had someone monitoring news casts.

“Ma'am, there has still been no reports in from anyone. We are still in the dark here.” A woman at one of the side stations answered.

Anastasia took a drag of her cigarette. “Well get a hold of someone. Now.” She said sternly, glaring in the woman’s direction.

She stepped down on to the lower level, listening as the woman frantically tried to reach the IPAF's team, and stopped beside a man at one of the main computer’s, the one that specifically kept track of the IPAF team member’s locations. “Where is Leau?”

The man grinned and pushed an ashtray towards Anastasia. “I’d like to tell you Miss Varias, but unfortunately she hasn’t checked in, nor is she showing up on our radars.”

She tapped her cigarette against the ashtray’s edge. “Damn it Leau.” Anastasia muttered under her breath before taking another drag. “Get me a headset and set up a secure line to Leau.”

Someone brought Anastasia a headset as she had, not so kindly, asked for and butted out her cigarette. Sliding the headset on, she pressed a button on the earpiece and waited for her to be connected to Leau. With a small click sound in her ear, and a thumbs up from one of the people in the room, Anastasia knew the line was secure and that Leau could hear her.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Anastasia walked over to the holographic map, and let some anger be heard in her voice, just enough to get a point across to Leau.

“Leau,” She growled. “Tell me where you are, or so help me god, I will put a bullet in your head instead of your arm.”

Anastasia took a deep breath and composed herself before continuing. “I will then have someone come and collect you, and when you return, you and I will be having yet another little heart-to-heart discussion.”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias
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#, as written by Kuroe
Leau breathed out softly as she sat on the slanted roof of a rather ornate, large, three story building which she presumed to be what humans spoke of as "museums". She had never been to one herself, and didn't particularly care to.

She moved her head forward to look through the scope of the rifle she held, balanced on her knee. It resembled the IPAF issue sniper rifle, though somewhat more compact. It was also missing the reader which told her what was Fey and what was not. She could tell which was which, and didn't need a large piece of metal and who knew what else to tell her what she should shoot and what she shouldn't.
The rifle and its scope were themselves focused on a human sitting at a bench. She had no reason to do so, she merely wanted something to point the gun at. She had been waiting for the better part of four hours on top of this building, unmoving and staring at the scene in front of her. Not a single faery had passed the area, which she had chosen to stay for the day. She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that one would be here, and her instinct wasn't usually wrong.

So she had waited. And waited. And now, it was... Leau stopped as a loud beep, followed by a voice filled her right ear.

“Leau. Tell me where you are, or so help me god, I will put a bullet in your head instead of your arm," the voice of her commander, Anastasia, hissed in her ear. Leau thought of the scar in her arm that had come of the bullet the woman had fired at her upon their first meeting. It had, of course, long since faded, though it still caused her pain from time to time. Anastasia continued. “I will then have someone come and collect you, and when you return, you and I will be having yet another little heart-to-heart discussion.”

"Yes, ma'am. I am hunting. I will return when the Fey is dead or captured," Leau said simply. She yanked out the earpiece almost instantaneously and, without a second thought, crushed it in her hand and looked through the scope again. She could not afford any more distractions. Just in time as well, as she caught a glimmer in the crowd. It was one of the Fey, not one she had seen before. The barrel of her gun moved swiftly to point at the Faery. It was glamoured, in the form of a human boy with messy brown hair, and perfectly symmetrical doll-like features. Much like her own form, really. But this concern was not in her head for more than a moment. It was a hunt now. There was no time to think such things of her prey. As a soft smile spread across her face, the pleasure of a kill, she moved her finger to the trigger. The gun stayed trained on the Faery's chest.

The world grew slow, silenced except for the beat of Leau's heart. Everything but her and the Faery faded away into a solid grey. A single click echoed out. A single click that heralded death, the snuffing out of one more life, whose existence she loathed with every small piece of her being.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Azriel De'mourn Character Portrait: Tiggy The Summer Fae Character Portrait: Raena Character Portrait: Iokul Frosti Character Portrait: Justin Maysharp Character Portrait: Yuki Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias
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#, as written by Layla

Warm lips pressed against hers and the girl briefly melted into the kiss, wrapping her willowy arms around the man and pulling him close. She wondered why Iokul's lips were so warm when they were normally so cold and the thought pulled her from the lovely trance. A warmth emitted from his chest and she ran her hands over him, pressing her palm against his heart. Before she could taste his heat, however, he was pulled away by the words of another.

"Stop, Kodomo. CPR is only used to restart the heart and lungs. She is coughing which means her lungs and heart are fine," the man said. The frozen girl lifted her lips, her lashes so long and curled that they touched her skin as if she'd layered on perfectly applied mascara. Her sultry blue eyes dilated before gold washed into them like ink poured in clear water. Her irises imitated the man's as she tilted her head to the side, observing him with curiosity. The flame in his heart burned differently, as if it were a supernova, as if his soul were eternal. His essence was closer to that of her children than to that of the feeble, mortal flames she saw all around her. Her irises shifted through colours, fading into a deep sunset gold before sinking into a neon yellow, eventually settling for a molten gold with flecks of green. Still, she could not recreate his eyes.

"I ask that you abandon your attire," she said. Her voice was quiet, yet it seemed to echo against mountains miles away and carry over space and time. Her voice was breathless, as if made from the sweetest nectars, like pollen flying through the air. Her voice was the song of love, of home, wholeness and perfection. She sounded to be everything, yet her voice seemed to be as impossible to hold onto as it was heartbreaking to hear. Whatever she said, whatever she did, was a work of art. "He has painted Winter," she stated, gazing up at the sky with its tennis balls of snow descending. The Queen's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as the strong winds skittered around her, as if fearful of what she might do should they touch her without her consent. She was rather cold and the wet, near transparent robes that clung to her hourglass figure were unsurprisingly, not very warm. The High Queen's head lowered slowly, her unblinking gaze fixing on the Winter Fey that was Yuki. Order moved as if time held no meaning - which it didn't - and she controlled the very clocks of the world. Which she did.

"I see you, child. Your thoughts are as loud as a mad beast's bark and somehow, exceedingly more irritating." Order paused. "You are easily Unmade." Her eyes traced the line in which the Winter Fey had blown her icy kiss towards her Summer Fey, Tiggy. The Queen blinked, as close to acknowledgement as she ever got.

Just then, the Queen abruptly jerked her head to the side as if she'd just been slapped with vice. An icy stillness filled her. The moment of clarity was gone, replaced by the dimness in her eyes as if she were seeing the world through tinted glass. The girl took a frightened stepped back, clutching the red silk cape around her. She took another step backwards and ran.

She ran through the city with its sprawling skyscrapers and bustling humans. Where she ran, the world seemed to slow as people stopped and stared at the perfect creature racing through them. She was a flurry of white as her long white hair was tossed about, shining and mixing into the deep red of her cape. The only points of colour on her face was the deep crimson of her lips, distinctly outlining the dip of her cupid's bow and the shattered glass of her eyes.

Neon lights yelled at her and she flinched away, unfamiliar with the artificial lights that were not made by her. Car horns tore through the air as cars screeched to a stop to prevent themselves from slamming into the model/ghost/angel. The pale girl jumped, stumbling backwards as she lifted her arm to shield herself from the blinding headlights of the horizontally challenged unicorns. She quickly turned and ran from the unicorns that wished to kill her, her bare feet creating no sound as they barely touched the pavements. She ran until she found a secluded alley, where she leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Despite the marathon she'd participated in, her hair cascaded over her shoulder as she pressed her forehead to her knees. Her locks of hair were straight at the top, slowly forming into large waves and fading into perfect curls by the time they reached her hips. The girl clutched the red cloth around her, shivering against the cold.


"Bad day?" Kiser asked Anastasia as he leaned against the doorframe. "Wait, no, don't answer that. Good days don't happen for pessimists," he said with a smirk, pushing away from the wall and walking towards the IPAF leader. He loomed over her, being 6'3", a fact of which he was very proud of. Kiser stood closer to her than he needed to, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was beautiful, and very, very sexy.

"Ana," he whispered against her ear, bending slightly to be closer to her lips. "I caught another Fey today. Type 4. He's in the holding room and speaking of rooms, I just moved into my new apartment. It has a very, very nice master bedroom," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows and laughing, pulling away from his dearest Anastasia.

"Something I'm not happy about," he began, raising a thick brow. "Is Chris. Remind me again why I have to deal with that idiot?" Chris was a new member of IPAF and his 'authorities' had insisted he be Chris' tour guide and mentor until he could be entrusted with IPAF's secrets and responsibilities. Chris was an idiot. Kiser raked his eyes over Anastasia's body, smiling slightly. He was not normally this flirtatious but pomegranate juice did that to him, as did Anastasia. Just as abruptly as he'd entered the room, his attitude changed. "Get me off the assignment," he growled with a scowl, folding his muscular arms over his chest, the lion's head tattoo over his bicep flexing as he did. "Chris is a kid."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias
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#, as written by Lenyx
"Bad day? Wait, no, don't answer that. Good days don't happen for pessimists.

Anastasia scowled but did not bother to turn around or respond to Kiser's attempt to insult, or joke, with her, when Leau's voice suddenly came through the ear piece. "Yes, ma'am. I am hunting. I will return when the Fey is dead or captured." Followed by a loud screech of feedback.

Anastasia ripped the headset off. “Ma'am we have--”

“I know what damn well happened!” Anastasia snapped at the communications attendant. “I will add damaging IPAF equipment to the long list of things to discuss.” Anastasia muttered under her breath.

Sighing, Anastasia pulled off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, as Kiser came up behind her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She continued to ignore him, allowing him this rare brief moment of touch, but she didn't expect him to come any closer than that, not unless he had a death wish.

"Ana, I caught another Fey today. Type 4. He's in the holding room and speaking of rooms, I just moved into my new apartment. It has a very, very nice master bedroom." Kiser whispered against her ear.

Anastasia was just turning around to tell him she couldn't care less about his new abode, but he had already pulled away from her and was now moving on to a different topic. Putting her glasses back on she stared up at Kiser, crossing her arms over her chest as well as she listened to him.

“Kiser, I will explain this to you once, so listen closely.” Anastasia said calmly, walking up to Kiser. “You are dealing with that idiot because as much as I hate to admit it, you are one of the best on our team. And as to your request to... 'Get you off the assignment'...”

Anastasia took this moment to grab Kiser by the collar of his shirt and pull him down to her eye level. She stared at Kiser with her cold and piercing grey-blue eyes.

You will do this assignment, and deal with Chris. I do not care if he is an idiot, if he so much of an idiot, he will either get himself killed, or you will do your job and make him less of an idiot and he will live to grow old!” She hissed in Kiser's face before releasing him.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein
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"Leau trouble, again?" A voice asked Anastasia, just as the reception in the headset came to an abrupt, ear-piercing feedback. His face winced visibily. A jacketed man was leaning on the doorway not too far from her, an IPAF Operative from the looks of it, thinking to himself as his right hand pressing the rim of a coffee cup to his face.

A mandatorily displayed I.D card hung from the pocket of his shirt read "Rorgen Avulstein: R/RD" with a small photo of him looking rather annoyed at the camera.

"When is Leau not in trouble as of late." Anastasia said flatly, she turrned around and glanced briefly at him with a stare as cold as the glass it pierced through. The Faerie has caused her more and more trouble recently, for some forsaken reason rapidly becoming more aggressive in her little 'hunts'. She might just hold up her end of the threat this time.

"Huh, you joked." A very light smirk seeped across his lips, not really sure where he got that from, maybe he was in an insane-mood. "Let's go then." The insane man said confidently as he took a last sip and put the half-filled cup down onto a nearby tablestand, contributing to a steadily growing pile of it's disposable brethren.

"Go where?" Anastasia asked sternly as she walked past Kiser, not giving him a second glance, and retrieved her jacket from the hands of whoever she had thrust it at when she first arrived at the Command Center.

"To get doll-face back to you for that heart-to-heart discussion of course." Doll-face was his and a few other co-worker's way of calling Leau, an apt description for the Type C fey to say the least. He had apparently been listening to their whole conversation, since when Anastasia stormed through the hallways it usually meant something was up.

“Kiser I expect a report on my desk by the time I get back.” Anastasia ordered as she followed Rorgen from the Command Center. “Everyone else keep me updated, I want to know immediately if something is going on out there.”

---At the Carpark, exiting the elevator---

The two were awkwardly silent through the whole journey here, he entertained himself with the rumblings of the elevator for a short while but when that stopped, things got awkward again. His shoulders sunk slightly as they exited the box, a stray thought piqued and suddenly he was more concerned whether she was following him blindly. He cocked his head sideways and threw back a glance to the right, catching her in the corner of his eye.The woman didn't question, nor did she agree. She just did.

"There was a disconnection ping from personel support and radio at the same time..." Rorgen started to reason, looking back at the parking lot once more. "our IEMs are channeled on broadcast auxilliary service to a nearby communications tower. When the pings occured, the map showed two of them, one analog and one FM radio."

As the approached the mass of vehicles, he fished out a slim silvery device and pressed on it. A lone silver Aston Martin beeped to life in the middle of the crowd,

"It may not be her but it fits the bill of our monitoring system. They occured nearby each other around the West Street area..." He said, as Rorgen got into the driver's seat, then rested his hands firmly on the steering wheel. "...and since Leau doesn't drive she couldn't have gone far. West Street isn't far either."

Anastasia followed Rorgen, clearly listening to what he was saying, but she remained silent. She took in everything that was said, it was information that she wanted.

Turning to look at to her. "It's better than nothing." He said, before jamming his foot into the accelerator.

---Driving towards West Street-------

Amber street lights zoomed past them outside, the main roads were much less empty in the past. Now they were perpetually covered in sleet and people avoided them for the danger they presented. But at least, he could say he did not miss the congestion. This also meant he could go at full speed through the highway. Usually.

Right. He mumbled when he remembered Anastasia was there right beside him, Tugging on the gears and slowing down in-short-order. Rorgen, sometimes forgetting car-crashes mattered to many a people.

Soon it came to a junction, passing a tourist hotspot of shophouses and museums. Rorgen glanced to his right, upwards and out the window to a series of low level domiciles. Paying little heed to the road. Barren trees lie guarding the sides like picket-fences, though barely obscuring their view, they still served as reminders of the ever-winter nights that had long prematuredly ended their cycle. Billows of snow made it hard to see even apartment lights, much less a little girl perched on the roof. It is unlikely New York City would ever be green again.

"Up there, in the buildings. Doll-face likes to snipe." Rorgen hinted.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Azriel De'mourn Character Portrait: Raena Character Portrait: Iokul Frosti Character Portrait: Capricorn Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias
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#, as written by Layla

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kiser asked, leaning against the doorframe as he watched the Fey beasts tear the lab apart. The cold dug into the walls of the building, seeping into every inch of the Earth like skeletal fingers made of steel. The Were raised a brow, watching the fair coloured Fey with disdain. The Fey cradled a Type D in his arms and Kiser would've assumed he himself was a mere Type C had he not sensed the power that rolled from his skin, so thick it was nearly tangible. The IPAF commander assumed he should've been afraid then but alas, a Were's instincts overtook any sort of fear, replacing it with instead rage. Kiser had received an urgent message from IPAF Research Lab 86B, speaking of the deaths of dozens and the infiltration of their building. Of course, he would've noticed the monstrous blizzard in the distance without having to have received the call.

As a Were, the cold affected him little. His body was naturally much more heated than the average human's. In fact, he could hug a wall of ice and melt right through it. Not that he ever would, of course. Weres disliked the cold, however much it did not affect them. Kiser narrowed his eyes at the destruction, a small part of him impressed at the damage that had been done. The Type C before him clearly was not merely a Type C and being not quite stupid - most of the time - Kiser knew he could not defeat these Fey singlehandedly. He supposed it might've been a mistake to arrive here with only a dozen men but IPAF had many at its disposal, the deaths of a dozen would not impact it greatly, neither would the destruction of one lab. After all, most of the Fey they'd kept here were dead.

"Go," he whispered into his earpiece. Without a moment's pause, he spun and ran, his body rippling through the air as his muscles warped into that of an abnormally large lion. Men crashed through the ruin, their guns trained on the Fey as they rained iron and wielded broadswords, decapitating ogres. The men gave the Werelion leader a nod of camaraderie as they raced pass him, knowing their deaths were certain. The Fey were cruel, soulless creatures who needed to be destroyed and just as soldiers died in war, this was their battlefield. They died so their children, their loved ones, might have a chance at freedom. It was a difficult, quite possibly impossible task, but humans, Earthlings, as they were, fought for things that were impossible because they hoped. A wolf howled as his comrades fell, but his despair morphed into rage, as so many Weres did. The Werewolf bared his teeth, the fur over his body prickling as his muscles tensed for the move. He leaped at the man who was Capricorn.

In the distance, a lion tore through the woods - the trees naked with its fallen leaves - his body morphing abruptly into that of a muscular, grown man. Kiser exhaled, a fog of condensation escaping his mouth as if he were a chimney. "Ana," he spoke into his earpiece. "Ana," he repeated. "We'll have to explain things to the families of Team 102. Send a team of cleaners to Lab 86B. Experiments 9, 12, 33, 216, 59, 18, 17 and 99 have been compromised."

Kiser tapped his earpiece, adding a member of IPAF he very much distrusted to the conversation. It would allow for Anastasia to hear and participate and Kiser did not wish to think that she already knew what he suspected and merely chose not to tell him. The Fey he was soon to speak to was... But Leau was good at what she did, something Kiser hated to admit. "Unidentified flying ass, hey," he said without the usual snakiness he normally reserved for Leau. "So I was at the bar, swarmed by girls, as per usual, when I met this Type C. No, not just any Type C and no, it didn't make me cry. But this Type C had waves of power just spilling from its skin and a nasty look scythe. Please, enlighten me, Leau, why did he seem so much stronger than any of the other bastards we've met? What have you not told us, Leau? Who leads the Fey? We always thought they were solitary but after this little display of Fey teamwork, I'm beginning to think otherwise. Who controls the Fey?"


"You can wear this if you want... It's probably a bit warmer than those strips of cloth."

The white-haired mortal lifted her head, her heart tearing itself from her chest as their gazes seemed to entwine and pull viciously at one another's. She looked at the jacket the man held in his hand with the weariness of someone who'd just been thrown into a foreign world. She was not sure of anything and she did not know where to place her trust. Nowhere. Her mind seemed to be a black hole, devouring every organised thought she had. A black veil had been doused over her memories and she could not remember where she was, what she was, how she'd arrived here or where she'd been before, when she'd been born or even who she was.

"There is heat in these buildings, I actually live in this one," the man said, tapping against a wall. She looked at him with half puzzlement, half fear, but the cold got the better of her. Her teeth slapped against one another, a fog escaping her crimson lips and painting over her vision. Everything seemed so shielded and disguised.

"T-thank you," she said quietly, clutching the red silk to her body as she raised her delicate hand slowly. Her fingers curled around the coat and she flinched at the texture of the material against her skin but drew it to her, anyway. The woman wrapped the jacket around herself with haste, basking in the warmth of the extra layer but feeling cold enough to throw herself into a fire.

Snow rained from the skies as she held out her palm, her slim fingers appearing to be frail enough to snap with a breath. A snowflake drifted onto her open hand. The young woman stared at the ice on her pale skin, tears threatening to spill from her now sapphire eyes. Iokul. Eyes of crystalline blue flickered in her mind, struggling to remain in her empty thoughts. A layer of ice coated a body like dust on a corpse or a thin sprinkle of second skin. His beauty was eerie, impossible, as if he should not and could not exist, yet did. Iokul. The man lifted an arm, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he reached for his Queen. "Raena, my love."

The image shattered. In its place, eyes - as if forged from thunder - gazed into the very depths of what she was with a betrayal and disappointment that seemed to curl around her neck and snap her skull from her body. His body of shadow encompassed her light, suffocating her essence and drowning her in its endless depths. She gasped, inhaling air that did not exist, breathing when there was nothing left to breathe for.

Suddenly, she crashed into her body, as if her spirit had wandered from its shell for what seemed to be years but was in reality, seconds. Her hand trembled, her fingers turning a dangerous shade of blue as she stared at the still frozen snowflake in her palm. Her body was as cold as ice and her mind, just as frozen. Without the Faerie Realms and her connection to her Fey - her souls - she was nothing but a non-existence. When the veil between the worlds had been lifted and the Faeries torn from their world, a Fey of her own had cast magic over his Queen to protect her from death, and her immortality had been the price.

Her eyes gazed through the Vampire before her, seeing him and nothing else, yet seeing nothing at all. Her emptiness made her even colder than the Undead as she pressed the snowflake into his palm. The turmoil of emotions within her was suffocating, depriving her of air. She needed him to be her breath. Her frail hand pressed into the Vampire's, the snowflake frozen between two without warmth. "Who am I?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein
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The bellicose Fey had a will carved from titanium, everlasting animus that carried her injured body, creating imaginary splints around broken bones. A bullet flew past him, cutting through the air with ease, it's end unknown. Even if she had missed her target, it had been too close, only missing by a couple of inches to the right of his head. His breath shook, if she hadn't been damaged it'd be very likely that the iron would have implanted itself in his skull, cursing him with an instant death that was more applicable to wild animals. His eyes couldn't observe her anymore, they tore away as he legs burned, a hasty abscond between barren buildings of cold regret and incandescent sorrow. An exhale, breathing out the hidden smoke of sulfur emotions, twisting the atmosphere between the alley. The weight of fear bore down on the area, infecting those that inhabited it. Lethe's magic was at a low, but it didn't make him powerless, only cautious.

Weaving between bullets had his blood run faster, his body reacting with ease between the barrage, evading the oncoming storm of poisoned projectiles. He couldn't afford to let any more iron to taint the form that held him together, the effect of the first already impeding his movements. Ignoring the metallic taste rising in his throat, he jumped and pulled himself up a chain link fence that stood between the exit. Invisible wings aided him in the action, yet he still avoided flight, the threat of bringing an increase in attention towards him still being too great. Praxis paused at the top of the fence, attention being grabbed the beasts that took over the sky. It was a shame that they couldn't fly to anywhere warmer, but he was grateful for their presence, as only a gentle tug would force them to surrender to his will.

He spared a glance back to the child with cream hair, watching as the masses of gray birds swopped from above and towards her, their talons and beaks exposed. A foolish choice, as the impact of a stray bullet burned its way into his shoulder, becoming trapped in a tangle of muscle. The meeting between skin and iron pushed him off the wall of wire and onto the cement floor below, his body shaking due the to toxic invasion. He coughed, blood dripping over cracked, desert lips and hands curled against loose asphalt. He rolled onto his knees and lifted his body, pushing out pain and agony in favor of his escape. Winged creatures continued to arrive from above as his fingers dug into the wound, his glamour only flickering as he cut into his skin. Fingernails scrapped against the metal, the ache being only a scrape compared to previous miseries, and he tore the hindrance out.

Lethe's eyes flashed in hostility, a glowing white that leaked crimson anger into the air to mingle with the artificial dismay. It vanished once the lids of his eyes shrouded them, restoring his silk disguise to it's state of unmatched consistency. The echo of the bullet hitting the floor was the last thing he left in the tumultuous back street before he turned his back and sprinted away, out from between the bricks and into the open sidewalks and streets. He could still taste blood and allowed a small piece of magic to begin stitching back together the hole in his shoulder; only enough to prevent it from destroying his attempt to break away from the advances of the traitor. Images flashed through his head while he bolted down the city, not once bothering to apologize for interrupting the casual travels of human individuals, instead trying to differentiate between reality and fantasy.

Lights blurred and painting of the Queen danced in his mind, words that screamed of survival burned into the back of his eyelids and coiled his actions until they became brash. A goal became his ectodermal tissue, filling him with motivation and strength, to see the restoration of the world and his home. A desire became his endothelial cells, the dream to see a dawn of peace and renewed alliances, an illusion that erased control and cogitation. His vision blurred, slanting the world and turning it upside down, draining blood to the roof of his mouth until it coated the white bones that were his teeth. Praxis' feet met the blend of aggregate, cement, and water again and again, pushing him past people and steamed store windows. He abandoned the bag on his back, the object only carried money and shoes, something he could acquire later. At the moment they had only proved to slow him down, and he had no time to waste, as he was running on borrowed time already.

This is where the sidewalk ends, and this is where Praxis barrels onto the street, eyes locked at the other side. A line of buildings, safety, and the bright, sneering pain that took over his body. It was the collision between mechanical transport and a flesh body, a car that rammed into his right side and sent him away from refuge and to the side of a frost covered road. Red was all that he could see, a color of fire that spread through his body, his still body that lied in a contorted heap. Cracked ribs and awry magic, fighting to piece together a pierced lung before it filled with dichromatic liquid. Breath, why couldn't he breath? Every inhale was a battle that that resulted in half-wins, leaving his form to shutter and shake. His mind was screaming, but no noise came from between his lips.

Skin was peeled from his right arm, ripped off in gruesome tears that decorated the ground with hues of purple and blue blood. Bones peaked out from ravaged muscle, his right humerus bone completely severed, only epimysiums held the arm together as one, barely keeping him from losing a limb. Stay conscious was the words repeated to him, blinking like neon signs as he fought to move, move and get out before it was too late. He couldn't though, his left arm tried to lift himself up, just resulting in unrecognizable tormet that ate away at his consciousness. Lethe tried to curse to himself, but it resulted in spewing blood from his mouth. The Fey, glamour still intact, fell back onto the ground, too injured to even save himself.

His face was in similar state of his arm, right-side skin brushed away from the concrete, leaking dots of color that drained into his scleras. Was this his end? The final moments of Praxis Lethe, one of the strongest Fey in existence? To die by the effects of iron and the attack of a human contraption - it was almost funny, it a pitiful way. He was too weak without the Queen, and it was beautiful how he was nothing without her, his power being drained to a low that turned him into an insult to Fey kind. His lips relaxed into a thin line, eyes closing as those algid dark curtains began to drape over his mind. He couldn't accept this, but he couldn't resist for long, and unconsciousness took him; silencing both the the world, and the pain, in a thick blanket of inadequacy.


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Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein
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"The F-"

Eff. Rorgen corrected instinctively. No, this was an appropriate time to say it. "-Fuck." His eyes widened, his pupils shrunk within yellow wolf-like irises.

"NOO!" He roared as he flung open the car's door, "Nooo. No-nonononooo." He kept chanting to himself as if if he said it enough times it'd somehow turn back time and make it never happened. If the situation wasn't so dire, it would have been amusing to a cruel enough individual, to see Rorgen in one of his rare fits of panic.

Upon stepping out, there was an already growing expression on his face that battled between shock, doubt and regretful fear. His clenched hands shaking, no, changing even more as he let go of the door and with every step he took. Adrenaline did some weird things to him.

You would think a veteran IPAF Agent would have seen more death in his life than to be fazed by one little car accident. But fey were one thing. They weren't human, they had no remorse or conscience -things an innocent person had, they couldn't even compare to.

But he started charging when he saw it. There was a body, the vehicle's headlights shone brightly upon the back of it. All encumbering anxiety washed away, whoever that was more important and if he could do anything to save it -he would not loose it to another moment's lapse. Rorgen regained control. When something large that hit his car and skidded across the street, inevitably, some people started screaming. Mostly those who have not heard the gunshots that led up to this. His mind flashed back to the orange mop of hair that splayed on his windscreen followed by pale skin, and a selfish thought popped into his head. Let it be a fucking vampire.

"HEY! KID! SPEAK TO ME!" He demanded as he knelt down, the man could have said anything really, anything to elicit a response. The car lights were still blinding and with a practiced hand he held the victim's throat and neck straight, keeping airflow unimpeded.

"Fuck." Rorgen looked up at Anastasia, hoping to see her dialing an ambulance.

As he looked back down, he could feel the slight twinge of movement under his thumb. The sight of jarting bones was alarming and he quickly slid his other larger hand under the boy's arm in case it slipped and tore the lesion even wider.

Discouragingly, Rorgen realized all he could do was stay still until he figured out a way to carry this mess without making it worse.




...But it was strange, for the long moments he held him, he felt no pulse. Yet Rorgen's own breath heaved heavily, contrast to the thin wisps that escapes the boy's barely parted lips. There was also this farmiliarity when he touched the youth. Like something in him wanted to break free.

In sudden retrospect, his gaze immediately turned away, just for a moment, looking at the surrounding mess that led a trail from the bumper to him.

Chromatic blood. Red in small puddles, purple through shades of blue as they got larger and larger. There it was.

"...We've got a live one." Loudly, so that Anastasia could hear it. Tender care was shrug just like his jacket, taking it off and hurling the apparel into the largest pool. Then dragging it across, spreading it into puddles of inconspicuous human-coloured blood.

He let go of the Fey's limbs uncaringly. Only concern left being not to leave any evidence behind and roughly turned the otherworlder on his back like a posable doll, pressing it's largest wound to his hard torso. Gladly marring his shirt in Fae blood in favour of them dripping in smaller drops while he carried it to the car.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein
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#, as written by Lenyx
What in the bloody hell--” Anastasia said as she matched Rorgen's movements and got out of the car. As she came around to the front of the car she watching Rorgen, before pulling out her phone and connected with IPAF Command Center.

“Yes Ma-”

“There has been an accident.” Anastasia stated flatly, seeing Rorgen looking back at her. “It seems we--”

"...We've got a live one." Rorgen said loudly as he tossed his jacket on to a puddle of blood.

Anastasia's eyes traveled down to the trail of blood puddles, dichromatic blood, Fey's blood. She watched as Rorgen dragged his jacket through the blood, mixing it to make it appear as if it was human's blood. “We have an injured Fey,” She eyed Rorgen as he walked past her carrying the unconscious Fey. “We're bringing it in.”

“Yes Ma'am. I will have a team ready and waiting for when you arrive.”

Anastasia ended the call and was about to head back to the car, when a new voice come through her earpiece.

"Ana. Ana. We'll have to explain things to the families of Team 102. Send a team of cleaners to lab 86B. Experiments 9, 12, 33, 216, 59, 18, 17 and 99 have been compromised." It was Kiser.

Anastasia stopped with her hand on the door handle. “What the hell do you mean they have been compromised?” She demanded. “Was it an attack? An accident? What in God's name is- Never mind, I'll put in the call. When you get back, come to my office immediately. I will talk to you more then.”

With that Anastasia ended the conversation, and called the Command Center back. “A team of cleaners is needed at lab 86B, experiments 9, 12, 33, 216, 59, 18, 17 and 99 have been compromised. Do it now.”

Anastasia shook her head as she opened the car door. The day from hell, Leau will have to wait. Anastasia's hand tightened its grip on the phone it held, as she pulled out her cigarette pack. Using one hand she slid out a cigarette and while holding it between her lips she fished out her lighter, and lit the cigarette. She took a long drag, she desperately wanted a glass of wine.

As Anastasia is about to get in the car she spots a familiar figure leaning against the allyway, who is not looking in the best of shapes. The cream colored hair that has a slight tint of orange... Leau...

Anastasia moved away from the open car door and stood in front of her guardian. “If it were not for the shape you are in at this very moment, I would slap you.” She looked down at Leau, concern written on her face. “What are your injuries Leau.”

Leau grimaced in pain as she looked up. "Ma'am. Dislocated shoulder." She gestured to her left arm, which was hanging limply at her side. "Broken ribs. Lacerations." She kept her voice steady and clear, despite the pain. In Anastasia's opinion, the Faery was lucky.

Anastasia gingerly touched Leau's face as she inspected the shallow cuts that blemished Leau's face. She noted there were also rips and tears in the white elegant button-down shirt, that Anastasia had recently purchased for Leau. Anastasia also noted the form fitting black trousers were also ruined, at least the black lolita boots survived the harsh treatment.

“Leau, I'm not going to lie to you. In a moment, you are going to wish I had just shot you in the head.”

In one quick and fluid motion, Anastasia seized Leau's left shoulder with one hand, and with the other she grabbed the same arm just above the elbow. With just enough force, Anastasia wrenched Leau's shoulder back in to place.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein
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“We're bringing it in.”

The IPAF Operative nodded, acknowledging Anastasia's word to bring the captive Fey back to HQ.

Rorgen was about to open the door to the backseats when he heard a new message through her intercom, one of the perks of being him -especially on a quiet night when everyone has been scared off.

"Ana. Ana. We'll have to explain things to the families of Team 102. Send a team of cleaners to lab 86B. Experiments 9, 12, 33, 216, 59, 18, 17 and 99 have been compromised."

Comprosmised? That was Kiser wasn't it? The werelion rarely used such complicated words unless things were so bad he wanted to keep them hidden.

Pretending not to eavesdrop, he turned to look at the Fey in his hands. It's features, though scarred by injury were still almost perfect. Like a child, they were anything except. His grip tightened, fingers digging into it's unearthly soft flesh. If this one had anything to do with it ....but concluding there was nothing to be gained from treating it any rougher he set his mind on the job at hand, opening the doors and feeling for a small button on them. A concealed compartment soon revealed itself as it popped out of the doorframe, inside were a pair of iron manacles -made specially by the organisation for the Fey and their kind. And promptly hooked it onto the false child's ankles.

Setting their hostage upright in the back, he wandered to the front of the car, getting into the driver's seat. It didn't take long for him to notice Leau's return, Anastasia's guardian was not looking much better off than the one they chanced upon and when he saw the woman place her hand on the Type C Fey's shoulder -he knew what was about to happen and promptly looked away -giving them some semblance of privacy and Leau, a quiet dignity, even though it probably didn't matter.

"Must be your lucky day..." Rorgen's brows furrowed when he looked at the Fae's face through the rear mirror, dumping his blood soaked jacket by the foot peddles, as he waited for them to return to the car.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Azriel De'mourn Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Raena Character Portrait: Capricorn Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Harold Chester Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood
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#, as written by Layla

The skies were cruel. The young woman wondered for long moments as she watched the snowflakes tumble from the skies, unsure of their destination. The clouds had unclasped their seat belts, allowing their children to spill from their wombs and fill with an icy emptiness along the way. They would fall, fall and fall, not knowing of their fates until the very end when they shattered upon pavements or into the heated palms of mortals. She wondered as to why a parent would lead their children to their deaths and an unexplainable guilt slithered up her spine, into and beneath her skin.

"I don't know who you are.. All I know is you are going to die of cold if we don't warm you up, that body you have isn't made for extreme cold. Come with me inside, we can worry about figuring out who you are in there," said the man before her. The grey ice dug into her flesh, pushing past the thin material of her soaked dress of white. She pressed her back against the rough bricks behind her, observing the man's gold eyes with a curious contemplation. She felt no doubt, being as trustworthy as a newborn child who'd not yet learned to walk or hate.

"If you do not know who I am, why do you care for me?" She tilted her head to the side, standing gingerly and wobbling on her knees made of bones that felt more like shortbread. The cold surface behind held her upright as she leaned against it, her pale existence a mark of light in the darkness of the alley. Apricot lights painted strawberry blonde streaks in her long hair, crimson soaking into her soft lips and amber bleeding into their gold eyes. The sunset cast a mesmerising glow over the snow capped mounds of buildings, the beauty only interrupted by the heavy black coats of people bustling about. They were too busy with places to go and people to meet in preparation for tomorrow to live today.

Soft fingertips touched Azriel's cheek, dancing lightly along his immortal face and tracing the hard line of his jaw. The strange girl's eyes faded from one shade of gold to another, puzzlement drawing her brows lightly together as she struggled to recreate the beauty of his orbs. "You have strange eyes," she whispered, her accent familiar as if she were imitating his. Her voice was near dazzling, as if it'd be able to choke mortals and render them motionless with it's sound of thick honey and eerie winds of night.

The woman turned, each elegant movement as if choreographed. She drifted through the snow like a ghost, walking towards the building the Vampire had gestured towards. Pausing before the strange slab of wall built within a wall, the girl stared at what was the door with utter confusion. Why would one build a wall within a wall? She pressed her palm against the door, pushing at it but receiving no response in return. "What is this odd mechanism? How does one remove the wall?" she asked absentmindedly, poking and prodding the edges of the wall to no avail. She looked at the sign on the door that read 'Pull.' "Pull?" she echoed. She looked at the curved metal on the door, wondering if it was safe or if it was some trigger for a curse. Taking a breath of bravery, she nodded towards the Vampire as one soldier would another. Her long fingers curled around the handle of the door. She pulled.

There was a gust of warmth and a surprised gasp as the wall came undone. "What a peculiar gate!" she exclaimed. A tentative step was taken, then another and another. The warmth emitting from the inbuilt heaters was heavenly, and she quickly raced deeper into the building, clutching both the red cape and jacket to her body. A man on his journey downstairs watched the frail woman with hunger and malice. The clockworks of his mind were spinning rapidly as he fantasised about the things he could do to her and how he would achieve his goals.

When they'd entered the Vampire's humble abode, she gazed around like a small child who'd just discovered the existence of places outside of home. "You live in a box," she said, taking an unbalanced step forward. The walls were very flat and the ceilings were as well, with no sign of murals. Everything was very... Square. She spun on the balls of her feet, spinning around and around like a toddler learning to dance ballet. Yet, there was an almost inhuman grace to her clumsiness. She paused, looking at Azriel with a trust children reserved only for their mothers. "I am weary," she stated. She walked through the doors and into Azriel's bedroom, nodding at the bed within it in approval as if she'd just concluded it was the only normal thing in the entire place. She climbed onto the bed and crawled beneath the covers, tucking the thick blankets beneath her chin. After wiggling about for the most comfortable position, she shut her eyes and fell asleep.

ImageLight sang. Her voice carried none of the power it once did, having been dimmed to a flicker of candlelight. Rather than being powerfully haunting and deep, it was merely... Cute. That was, if one thought ghosts could sound cute. It was as if an ocean had transformed into a shallow - but lovely - stream after years of drought. Her long dress drifted along the grass made of cotton, that had been made from gold, emerald and sapphire. The rocks were translucent as if each were rare mountains of moonstone. Trees bowed before the High Queen, their branches lowered in respect. Despite the kaleidoscope of light dancing along the ivory walls of the enchanting Faerie Realms, a darkness seemed to loom overhead. The atmosphere was subdued, the world void of creatures and sound except for that of the singing Queen.

The stillness was the equivalent of a post-apocalyptal world within the Faerie Realms. No human-sized butterflies batted their crystal faceted wings against gossiping flowers, no obsidian streams cascaded into the skies and no stars gleamed in daylight. Order wandered, her presently amber eyes unseeing as she wandered amongst the lifeless. Her bare feet made no sound, their movements as seemingly stationary as the moonstone rocks they passed.

Freckles of snow tumbled from the skies.


"Which part of 'adapt to human technology' and 'keep your bloody tracker on' do you not understand, Leau?" Kiser growled, cracking his knuckles and his neck. "Did you hear a thing I said? Do you know what I think when IPAF agents don't respond to their calls, Unidentified Flying Ass?" he hissed. "I think they're dead. Dead, Leau. And you know what I think when I think you're dead? I think 'Well, damn. That's an extra fifty bucks to clean up her dead body parts.'" The Werelion slapped Leau across the back, a gesture that was meant to show all was forgiven but he still distrusted her, but instead - most likely - aggravated the Fey's wounds.

Kiser turned away from the Fey, brisk walking away from the IPAF agents behind him to tuck himself in a secluded corner. He pulled his personal phone from his jean's back pocket - as for his upper body, he was shirtless, that being nothing unusual - and dialled a familiar number. "Harold, my old man," Kiser said. Harold's wife had been Kiser's aunt, of sorts. She'd been a good friend of his mother's and a family friend. Family friends to Weres were as good as family and they protected those people with their very lives. That was both a strength and weakness when it came to Weres, they were incredibly loyal, especially to family. When Harold's wife and Kiser's aunt had died of a brain tumour, the Burntwood clan - yeah, don't laugh - had mourned for months. Harold was a bit of a kink in the head. It was as if he'd been a stuffed pillowcase and when his wife and son had passed away, the seams that held his stuffing together had come undone. Still, Harold was a good man and more importantly, did not like the Fey.

"I need a favour," he said without pause. "I need you to find out all you can about the Fey. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm in the IPAF but they're hiding things from us," he whispered before correcting himself. "From us. They keep the Fey they capture, Harold, and they put them in these suspicious laboratories. I mean, I've always known about them and they tell us it's for 'the study of how to defeat the Fey' but that sounds like a load of bull. Iron and/or decapitate. How simple is that? But, no, see, there was this creepy scythe-wielding Faerie and he smelled like power, Harold. He reeked of power. Not the normal immortal Vampire stink but I mean, he smelled weird. Different from the other Fey I've fought." Kiser was speaking fast and more than he normally did but the adrenaline pumping through his veins urged him to continue.

"That's where you come in. You're not with the IPAF, you have nothing better to do and you hate the Fey. We're next to the Grill House. That's 1991 Bronxdale Avenue. Tell me what you know. Call me, in a completely non-homosexual way. I'm just not into that, grandpa," Kiser joked before ending the call without waiting for Harold's reply. The Werelion walked towards the car, the icy winds throwing his hair about his face. The blizzard seemed to be getting worse and...

"Why, Rorgen. Why would you drive such a nice car in the middle of a blizzard." Kiser frowned at the limp figure in the backseat and at the colourful blood that spilled from the boy. Its perfection was irritating, as always. "That's going to be a sucker to clean." The Werelion slipped into the passenger seat beside his fellow Were, taking Rorgen's hand in his in the way Weres often greeted one another: by crushing each other's fingers. Kiser clenched his close friend's hand, a competition to see who could crack who's hand first. Kiser grinned, his teeth so white, it was nearly blinding. "At least it's not my car."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood
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Rorgen's attention flinched towards the car doors as he heard it click, half expecting it to be Anastasia but when he saw who it was and who had grabbed his hand ...

"Same reason you drop your pants in the middle of a crowd." He retorted snydely, gripping back with vice-like strength as a sly grin seeped into his wolfish features. Challenge accepted. He could feel their bones crack loudly, then pop back into place again. The inside of the car sounded like the outside of a movie theatre. Both trying to maintain their most arrogant smile ever as they taunted each other with stares, as if the pain was somehow making it better.

The two had built a camraderie ever since they met and it was not just that they were both Weres, because in some ways they could not be more different from each other and yet there they were, trying to crush each other's hand as competition. But Kiser could whine about his car all the werelion wanted, Rorgen wasn't the one half-naked in his seat.

"You smell like death." He said, voice purposely overtoned with an enthusiastic growl, adding insult to injury as he pressed even harder. "What happened?"

Then he noticed Leau outside the window, her face showing emotion? But he didn't let go, not even for a second, Rorgen Avulstein hated to loose.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Raena Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood
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His body lied at the back of a car; bloodied, bruised and broken. Stray magic continued to work at his wounds on instinct, back up generators to insure that he would not die so easily. The process was slow - melting skin, pulling muscles, even as several minutes past there was hardly any progress in improving his physical well being. If anything nothing but the bleeding had nearly been made to slow to a stop. Still, drops of red blood continued to drop from his body, his mouth, and into small pools of green and yellow.

Words passed around him, eyes viewing him as nothing more than a captured, enemy solider. None of this reached him, who's body was cold, with skin turning dark blue, his glamour fading barely enough to have his skin appear as if was being covered in hemorrhages. Shallow breathes hardly moved his chest, and if he were human, he would be on his death bad. However, his body still held a pulse, and life within. Praxis would live on, long enough to face the consequences of foolish actions, and to look into the faces of wolves.

There was no color, no rainbow water droplets, no whites and no blacks. There was only the pickling feeling of being numb, nothing to feel, nothing to see, and nothing to think. Unconsciousness wrapped around him, simultaneously lasting forever and not taking place at all. This would be one of the few moments where Praxis was not aware of his surroundings, letting time escape him without notice, rest falling upon his body without his mind continuing to turn away. However, this too shall pass, as he was never destined to repose for long. Soon the thick steel bars would erode away, being chipped by the voice of youth and innocence, reverberating against his soul until his eyes opened into the subconscious world.

He was home. A shuttering breath shook his frame when it dawned on him that it wasn't really his home, but a memory of it. Traces of familiar places in a make believe world, filled in by lingering thoughts and broken crayons. Even so, with this knowledge, he couldn't prevent his lips from stretching into a mournful smile. If only he had died and this was his resting place, instead it would be erased as well, and replaced with bitter reality. Lethe moved forward, stepping onto gemstone shaded plants, letting the voice of nectar lead him down the realm of another's wishes. There was no other life here, no traces of inhabitation, except for the footprints he left behind him. Fingers traced over the leaves, coming in sizes smaller than a pin head to larger than his own head, and eerie serenity was reflected in the orbs of his eyes.

In slow motion, white began to taint the world that was a recreation of his home. He stood, shoulders back, in his natural form. Dark shades of blue and teal soaked into his skin, the sight of chaos and parent souls. Hands with long, arching fingers cupped in front of him, capture the speckles that dare infiltrate the land around him. The snow was like dried paint; the dust from the ceiling of a dream, blowing in from the real world into a false one. His eyes closed, lashes long and glowing dim light. Oh, how the light inside of him was ever so dim. Nightmare's eyes had never been so dark before, even his hair had lost it's sheen, making him appear as if he was washed in dirty water. He figured that his lungs had been filled with this type of putrid water as well, so horribly polluted that any attempts to clean his slate would be in vain, and he wouldn't raise a finger with the idea of attempting to do so in mind.

A figure stepped away from the trees and appeared before him and his breathing ceased, he was not alone.
"My Queen.." His words were like shattering glass, loud against the rocks of moon spirits, yet broken and strained, hiding quiet turmoil within. Praxis could only blink, frozen in place, not unlike the world around him. She looked the same, she looked differed, she was the same face that graced the corners of his eyes, and yet she had the face of a stranger. This was the Queen, but it was not the Queen; a paradox that put a bitter taste in his mouth, the flavor of fear, worry and regret. Had she slipped from between his fingers, like grains of sand that could be picked up? Or was she water, that splattered against marble and evaporated into the air, to be forever lost to him? A shutter ran throughout his body, and his legs moved forward without his consent.

Yet he couldn't get close enough, couldn't reach towards her, couldn't let his fingers brush against her skin. Instead he was held back by chains, invisible but real, wreaking of hesitation and cowardice. Hands at his sides, eyes bearing into hers, seeking for shards of the Queen he knew. Nothing, there was nothing, and it dawned on him that even if she was gone, he wouldn't abandon her. The look of foreboding remained on his face, though now he wore a smile, lips twisted upwards thanks to diamond carved loyalty.

"Oh, my Queen." If they had to, they would start anew, because even if the Queen was born again he wouldn't leave her side. If she decided to abandon order and destroy the world, he would stand beside her, and rip apart space and time with her. Or, he paused, would he destroy her, to protect the image his eyes had seen the first time they opened, to protect the order that was embroidered into her name? No, he pushed the thought away, that was preposterous. "So we are just now meeting again? It's been too long." The woman standing three feet away from him may be a new face, but she was still the Queen, his Queen, right?


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood
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#, as written by Lenyx
"Lab 86B was infiltrated by some UFA's. A dozen of our people died,"

Anastasia stopped just behind Leau, feeling startled. She could not believe it, members of IPAF casually talking aloud about organization matters in the middle of the street where anyone could hear! She was about to reprimand Kiser when Leau's soft voice, causing Anastasia to stop beside the small Fey.

Anastasia watched Leau's face pale, she didn't think the Fey's skin could become paler than it already was. Something about Leau's entire being seemed to change to one Anastasia has never seen her like this. Ever.

“If you'd not destroyed your communicator, you would know, deceivingly good looking, tall. 6'5 or thereabouts. Buff. Creepy. Why? You know him?”

Anastasia slipped off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose while letting out a sigh. “This is not an appropriate place to even hint at IPAF related matters,” Anastasia took this moment to look directly in to Kiser's eyes. “And you. Of all people, should know that, so shut it till we are back at headquarters.”

Putting her glasses back on, Anastasia turned to Leau. “However, Kiser has a point, everyone is given a communicator for a reason. If you ever think of destroying another one again while I am talking to you, and I am subjected to the feedback…”

Opening the car door, Anastasia narrowed her eyes at Leau, “Your punishment will be severe. Get in. Now.” She hissed.

Anastasia looked back over her shoulder. “Kiser if you are coming with us, put on a god damn shirt already. While you are at it, move, you are sitting in the back. Do not forget I wish to talk with you when we get back to headquarters, Leau you will be there too.”

Then something occurred to Anastasia, Fey with a scythe...?

“Wait a minute.” She turned to face Leau, and raised an eyebrow. “Fey with a scythe? What are you talk--”

Anastasia replayed the past few minutes, analyzing everything she saw and heard in her mind. Kiser slapping Leau across the back, Kiser walking away from her and Leau, tucking himself in to a corner. Then Kiser walking towards the car, sliding a phone in to his pocket-- Anastasia realized that with this blizzard partially impairing her vision and the winds almost completely blocking out the average human's hearing ability, Anastasia was at a disadvantage. It seems she would always be disadvantaged when it came to Fae, Were-creatures and Vampires. They were physically stronger, with heightened five senses...

“Leau was eavesdropping...” Anastasia said the thought out loud. Whipping around and Anastasia put her hands on either side of the car door. She leaned down and in to the car, until she was nose-to-nose with Kiser. Something in Anastasia's gut told her Kiser was hiding something, from her, and she wanted to know why. She could not contain her anger, all her frustration. Anastasia's face lost any sign of composure, her lips twisting up in to a snarl.

“Of all the people to hide shit from, you choose me? Who was that on the phone Kiser? I thought we were on the same side. While I could care less about you, you do your job well. You show results.” Anastasia reached a hand in to the car, going for Kiser's throat. She wanted to strangle him. “What did you see in that lab? We both know there is something our superiors are not telling anyone. Not even me... And I... I am supposed to be the god damned leader!”

Anastasia felt herself fall and give in to a pent up anger, that had been accumulating since her father's death. “In the past six months I know as much as you do about the IPAF! My superiors talk down to me as if I am some... Some child! Leau is the only one who gave me answers to my questions! And though she looks down on me, I don't give a shit because at least she tells me what I want and need to know! Why the bloody hell do you think I keep her close to me at all cost? Why do you think I care more about her than I do you?” Her hand was so close to Kiser's neck, she could feel the heat from his body against her cold hand. “I'll tell you why! Because she is the only thing that has kept me alive while I am trying to find out what the IPAF superiors are keeping from me! Because I am the only one who can deal with Leau, I am the only one who has control of her!”

Anastasia took a deep breath, she was beginning to feel light headed from yelling so long without stopping. Her throat felt raw, but she wasn't done yet. “I spared her life when I had the upper hand, I made her my guard! She is my property, and if I die so does she! Everyone knows that without me Leau is a loose canon and they would put her down! Leau and I keep each other alive, but what do you do for me Kiser?”

Finally finished Anastasia was left breathing hard and heavy, her hand dropping away from Kiser's throat. “All you do is go shirtless every chance you get and talk about your bedroom.”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Praxis Lethe Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood
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Aha! Rorgen smiled as if to say, when Kiser let go of his hand, but victory felt empty and it was hard to feel real joy when there was news of comrades that lay dead. Still, he did not want to disappoint and kept the upward curve on his face -no matter how false it may have looked. His stare slowly lowered to his out-of-shape hand that came to rest on the steering wheel.

The atmosphere inside the vehicle was quiet, almost unusually so even with Leau divulging what she knew, or perhaps Anastasia did not notice this when she reached out and grabbed Kiser's neck.

And maybe it was the loud noise, the uncomfortable amount of people growing around him or the simple fact that the woman had her hands wrapped around Kiser's neck that prompted him to say. "Cut him some slack. He's just seen our friends die and Kiser would never betray you." Especially you, Anastasia.

The man seemed to be holding alot more words back. If it were anyone else wrapping their scrawny fingers around Kiser's neck, he would have done alot more to them too.

Then shortly after, he stopped short for a moment to reaffirm himself, that's right Duty came first. He closed his eyes for a short moment and gripped the vehicle tight, hoping they would realize on their own that they were in Right in the middle of what must have looked like a crime scene to the outside world. More than that, he focused his mind about taking revenge on this scythe-wielding bastard he heard so much about.

"C'mon," He mentioned back in his usual light-hearted tone, trying to ease the mood, "-I can't wait to start a 'killin already." turning the keys to restart the engine. "We can talk more on the way, alrite?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Leau Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Rorgen Avulstein Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood
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#, as written by Kuroe
Leau grimaced as another bone snapped itself into place.

"Ma'am, if I may..." She leaned back against the car again. The pain was fading faster now, and just in time. She loathed the human's vehicles as it was, and she didn't need to get in one with any fractures. She was actually quite surprised that she hadn't punctured her lungs. Coughing up blood was never pleasant. "Kiser... Is not at fault." She gritted her teeth. It shouldn't have been so hard to say those words. She knew that she disliked the man, but she thought she could care less about his situation. Apparently not.

"He told you what he knows, though he obviously omitted a few details. What weapon a Faery uses does not matter to you. Or am I incorrect?" She looked at Anastasia with her usual dead eyes. "In any case, I do know of the Fey. He goes by the name of Capricorn... He's the King's second in command."

Anastasia looked down at Leau, her eyes still held a piercing look about them.

"It is not the weapon that matters to me Leau." She scowled. "It is the fact Kiser was talking to someone about IPAF matters before talking to me. I am the one he is supposed to report to."

Leau met her gaze with flat, glasslike eyes. "To be honest, I'm sure that the entire city knows when the IPAF fails. It's not exactly pretty. And don't kill Kiser, if you may... We... you will probably need him." She shook her head and cracked her neck. Her shoulders and back muscles still ached, but the worst of the pain in her ribs was gone. "I actually have a request. If Capricorn is fighting... it is not my place to make these demands, but we must have more troops, the... Faery artifacts, you humans call them? We need more. And..." She stepped around Anastasia and into the car, looking at the Faery sleeping inside of it, his eyes fluttering beneath their lids as if he was in a dream. "This is the one thing not up for debate, ma'am. We're going to have to keep him. I will take the blame should your superiors find out."

Anastasia stared at Leau in disbelief. "Kill Kiser?"

Anastasia turned away and cleared her throat. "I would not kill a member of my team, Leau. If I did not think I needed him, he would not be here. As for the Artifacts, all I can do is ask, but as to the Fey..." Anastasia glanced towards the back seat. "That I can surely say our superiors will say no to."

Leau's gaze sharpened. "Which is why I cannot tell them. I know of the risks. And I am willing to take them. This is a matter of life and death. The Fey lying here? I feel no kinship with him. I loathe his very being. But I am willing to side with him if it means I will become closer to our goal." she sat in her seat, her young features painting a picture not of a fearless warrior siding with an enemy, but of the stubbornnes of a small human child.

Anastasia grabbed Leau's arm, the one she had shot when the two had first met. "I know you feel no kinship to that Fey, nor anyone for that matter. The risk you are making by keeping him from the IPAF is your life, and will end up being mine as well. What is so important about this Fey Leau? What is it about this Fey that makes you risk everything?"

Anastasia paused, choosing her words carefully. "Lastly, which goal will you become closer to Leau? Ours? Or the Fey's?"

Leau's anger flashed across her face, but she fought it back and merely glared silently at Anastasia for a moment. "Whose goal...? I live for no other goal but my own. And yours happens to be on the same path. This Fey has magic. Magic that your superiors have yet to be able to use. I doubt we would live through any sort of contact with Capricorn or my former master without Fey magic." she grimaced. "Magic which I, of course, have very little of."

Anastasia released Leau's arm, taking a few steps back and looked over the small Fey. "Former master? This is the first I am hearing of this..." She glanced over at Kiser, then a glance at Rorgen, before continuing. "Leau, I think you, Kiser and myself will be having a long discussion in my office... But first, if what you say is true..."

Anastasia withdrew in to her thoughts. There was no chance of them hiding a Fey from their superiors, and she could not see Kiser or Rorgen agreeing to such a order, even from her. Torn between her duty and loyalty to the IPAF and to finding out what the IPAF was not telling her... No, this was one request from Leau that Anastasia couldn't agree to, one slip and all the members associated with her would be at risk.

"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."

Leau said nothing, crossing her arms and sitting back in the seat, looking sharply at Rorgen and Kiser before shaking her head and turning her gaze away. "Understood, Ma'am." She mumbled softly.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Iokul Frosti Character Portrait: Dunkelzahn Character Portrait: Anastasia Varias Character Portrait: Kiser Nathaniel Burntwood
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"Ana," Chimed Kiser inside Zahn's earpiece. "Ana," he repeated. "We'll have to explain things to the families of Team 102. Send a team of cleaners to Lab 86B. Experiments 9, 12, 33, 216, 59, 18, 17 and 99 have been compromised."

Zahn clucked her tongue thoughtfully and wondered if Kiser knew she was tuned in to the director's frequency... mainly because she wasn't a part of any one squad. With her mobility and range, she could cover several teams at once so her orders usually came straight from the command center. Being the only long-distance sharpshooter in the city was sometimes a grueling job. She and Archer were on call 24/7 and had to be anywhere at a moments notice. Usually she rode her motorcycle anywhere she needed to get, but with the harsh, unnatural winter set in the conditions were completely un-rideable.

"How far is 86B from here?" She asked, taking a bite of a sandwich from the deli she'd spotted that one vampire on top of. Archer was still winded from the trip... the roast beef sandwich really was heavenly though.

"Uh," he mumbled, cradling his cup of coffee while he thought about it.

Zahn rolled her head over to the side to raise an eyebrow at him. She'd been laying on her back on top of the conference table, one foot propped up on a knee, which she tapped on the air impatiently as she waited for an answer. Her thick mop of black hair pooled around her aimlessly. She pulled a lukewarm french fry from a cup at her side and nibbled on it. With all the chaos happening in the park and surrounding areas and no orders to suppress, support, aid, spot, or otherwise maim anything within her range she'd taken to staring at the ceiling and playing Angry Birds on her phone for the remainder of her shift. Talking shit with Archer was also a given, since he was one of the few men she could stand to spend any amount of time with... his being gay helped a lot.

"We'd have to move to nest six to hit it, if that's what you're asking, hun," he said, sipping his coffee. He nearly spit it out, but managed to swallow the molten liquid, with that "I-just-burned-the-shit-out-of-my-mouth" expression on his face. "Why, we got orders finally?"

"Nope... but I'm bored," she answered. "How long will it take to get there?"

"Seven minutes, give or take. Assuming we pack everything and hustle."

"Too long," She bit her bottom lip in thought.

"You could probably make it in two if you did your Shinobi thing across the rooftops with whatever you could carry. Take this," he instructed and tossed her a small notebook. "The range increments for all our nests should be in there."

Zahn nodded, sitting up. She flipped through the notepad in a few seconds until she found the desired page, then stared at it for a handful of seconds and handed it back, then stuffed as many magazines of ammunition in her pouch as she could. She reached for her Arctic for one moment, then changed her mind and grabbed the sling that was next to it. She hooked either end onto the Windrunner and hefted it over one shoulder, securing it tightly to her back so that she could still move freely.

"Really?" Archer asked with a note of incredulity.

"Yup," Zahn answered with a grin. "Follow when you can, odds are I'll need the ammo before too long if things are as batshit as Kai seems to think," she ordered while quickly tying her hair up so that it wouldn't get in her way.

"Should I..."

"Yup!" She interrupted, and was out the door of the office. Archer just chuckled and started breaking down their nest.

The office doors whizzed past her in a blur as Zahn charged down the hallway. She planted a foot in the open window at the end and with a running step-up to the rail of the fire escape outside, she leapt across the alley. Unable to roll with the huge rifle strapped to her back, she planted a foot on the opposite railing and levered herself down with her hands. Zahn punched the open transmit on her earpiece as she stomped up the stairs of the fire escape towards the roof, taking the steps three at a time.

"Iceheart is in transit," she chimed in response to Ana's call for a cleanup crew. She didn't bother muting her microphone as she lazy-vaulted over the railing to the roof and sprinted to the other side. Her breathing was heavy and she knew the rapid crunch of snow beneath her footfalls probably crackled loudly in Ana's ear. "Permission to fire," Zahn said after about a minute. It was more of a statement than a question: she was going to fire when she got there whether Ana gave it or not.

She grunted as she hurdled an air conditioning vent and slid around a corner, using one hand to balance herself. Another short sprint sent her flying across another alley, and she grunted a second time as she landed, wincing against the pain in her ankles and toes and allowing her body to slide in the snow until she trusted her balance. She and archer had sort of cheated. While the nests were fairly close together so they could move from one to another as vantages changed, getting to and from one upper story office building to another could be fairly tedious what with going up and down elevators or stairs and crossing streets with a hundred or so pounds of gear in briefcases and bags. Instead they had laid out a network of makeshift bridges using some telescoping device the guys in Tech had come up with so they could traverse the rooftops between nests quickly and in relative stealth. In this case, Zahn had bypassed several of the crossing points by jumping across some of the alleys she was fairly confident she could cross.

Confidence was everything in freerunning...

In just over two minutes she reached her destination, her breath ragged as she gazed out over the city. There was no time to get down to the actual nest, she would have to shoot from the rooftop, which grated against her better judgement. Work with what you have, when you have it, however, and the one thing she did not have was time to get in position. Zahn slung her rifle down and plopped down near the edge of the roof, taking a few quick moments to cover herself in snow and disguise the silhouette of her rifle to make her harder to spot.

"In position," she puffed, and then returned her headset to a push-to-talk setting. She took deep, controlled breaths to slow her heart rate and spotted the ruined lab in her scope. Some kind of huge ice creature was bursting through the walls to engage the group of IPAF soldiers outside. It only took her a few moments to pop the magazine out of her rifle and line up the ones she had stashed in her pouch in front of her. She chose the bullets with the yellow tip and the white stripe... the explosive Raufus rounds had a binary compound in the tip, which mixed as the bullet spun in flight. It was designed to penetrate armor, explode, and spray shrapnel into whatever was on the other side. They'd probably blow the limbs off of a giant ice thing pretty handily too. She pushed the magazine in and slammed the first round home as she closed the bolt.

Deep breaths... She gazed through the scope, reaching up to flick the built in range finder on and flip through the vision modes until she found the one that offered the best visibility in the failing light. She cradled the stock tightly against her shoulder and zeroed in on her target.

Zahn exhaled, feeling a wave of calm wash over her.


Hold breath.

Count heartbeats... 1... 2... 3... 4...

Zahn waited for that one instant between heartbeats to squeeze the trigger. She exhaled sharply as the gun rocked against her, feeling the impact shoot down her spine and into her toes. The thunderous crack of the .50 blew the snow off her rooftop ledge into a large misty cloud and made her ears ring, even through the noise-canceling headset she wore. She estimated a three second flight time and didn't wait to see the impact of the first bullet. Instead she yanked the bolt back and slammed another round home. She squeezed the trigger again and her Windrunner blasted thunder over the rooftop as it fired a second shot.

The first bullet made a sharp crack! as it slammed home a little northeast of center mass in the creature's shoulder as it was reaching back to deliver a lethal swipe. The second crushed into its knee joint. Zahn fired a third and a fourth time, landing two solid hits center mass. Now solidly ranged in, she delivered the fifth and final bullet in the magazine straight into the creature's gaping mouth.

"The mail has been delivered," she transmitted over comm coolly as she dropped the smoking magazine next to her and reached for the magnesium tipped tungsten rounds... They weren't tipped in iron, but even the quickly regenerating weres had trouble recovering from being turned into a fine paste.


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

"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.


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."


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.


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.”


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

"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?"


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'.


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."


"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.


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 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.


(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.


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
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"Dunkelzahn," Kiser called Zahn by her full name, causing her to raise an eyebrow. "You're not dead,"

"I was never in any danger..." she mumbled to herself, although she felt a little touched that the concern sounded genuine. Perhaps he wasn't all bad.

"Great. We won't have lesbian body parts to clean up," he joked. Zahn narrowed an amber eye into her scope, fuzzy feeling vanishing, and instead looking for him among the remaining soldiers.

"Meet us in the IPAF headquarters. Ana's big bad office."

"Roger," is what she transmitted before clicking him out of the conversation. "Yeah, we'll be meeting for certain."

"It's dead," Zahn chimed through the comm, punching the remains of team 102 into her comm. "Or maybe stunned... hopefully dead," she informed. It was hard to tell. It was hopefully dead, considering she shot it five times with .50 caliber rounds designed to kill people inside of tanks. "You guys should beat feet."

*Oh thank God, who is this?*

"Iceheart. You guys need to retreat," she informed, pulling the magazine of tungsten rounds towards her, thinking better of it, and pushing the magazine of normal .50 BMG into the rifle. She felt more than heard an additional presence next to her shortly afterwards, and flicked her amber eyes to the left to find Archer laying there with his spotting scope already set up. It was one of the reasons she liked him: he was actually good at his job... unlike certain werelions.

*We're holding position until the clean up crew arrives.*

"I am the clean up crew," she stated coldly, flipping the bolt up and slamming the first bullet into the chamber.

*What?? Uh, how far then?*

"How fast can you run?" Zahn asked glibly and heard Archer chuckle from her side. "What do you think, would you consider that facility compromised?"

"I think the gaping hole in the side with the giant ice thingy squirming in it is the giveaway, hun. Don't we have some kind of SOP for this?"

"Yup. Eliminate hostiles, retrieve any lost data... in the event hostiles can't be eliminated prevent further contamination of the site by entering the computer core, opening the shiny red envelope in my back pocket with the codes and initiate facility sterilization."

"Huh... so what is facility sterilization anyway? I didn't see a flamethrower in our bag," Archer asked.

"Buncha' thermite... and a big-ass bomb."

"Really? God damnit, my apartment is in an IPAF building," he sighed.

"Why do you think I'm never home?" She grinned. "How far is it?" She asked, and Archer traced her line of site to the gaping hole in the side of the lab.

"To the yummy soldier with the passenger?" Archer asked, and she could hear the grin in his voice.

"Ew. No. You read those smutty romance novels don't you?"

"I adore smutty romance novels. 1430 to the control panel," he informed, lasing the facility with his spotting scope. "That will get you through the secure door, your clearance should get you the rest of the way into the computer core. From there... well I imagine there's some kind of hokey count-down or something that should give you time to make your escape."

"That sounded like a guess," Zahn said, narrowing an amber eye at Archer.

"It was, but it was an educated guess," he said with a smirk. Zahn just blew a sigh and lined up her next shot. What was left of the IPAF team on the ground had hastily retreated. She took a moment to count the bodies and say a silent prayer... they'd taken more than 50% casualties and their remains would never be recovered. The ice titan was slowly getting up, in spite of having lost an arm and having a large hole blown out of its head. "Try aiming for its heart?"

"Yeah... I think its healing," she noted, watching the holes in its chest very slowly closing through her scope. Zahn rested her finger on the trigger, and then changed her mind after what felt like a long minute while the creature started to push itself to its feet. She pushed herself up and slid the rifle to Archer. "Ready to earn your pay?"

"... Wh-what?" He asked in that "oh-there-is-no-way" tone of voice.

"Cover me," she ordered, and started off... stopping only a few steps away and turning back. "And go easy on those tungsten rounds, they're like forty bucks apiece. The guys in the gunsmith lab always throw a fit when I use too many... Channel EC6... this just became classified," she said, and reached up to her headset and clicked a red button on the earpiece. Everyone still on her channel was immediately dumped with an earful of harsh static as her comms with Archer switched to a secure, encrypted channel. She was sure it was still monitored by... somebody... these "secure" comms always were. Whoever it was, it was above her pay grade. Zahn had a very steep rate for her services, so she imagined whoever else could listen in was at the top of the food chain..

1460 meters doesn't sound like very far until you have to run it. At just 149-ish meters shy of a mile, it was easily a six minute run for a highly athletic human. Zahn half fell, half slid down the fire escape to street level, landing harshly. She ignored the pain in her toes and ankles as she took off sprinting. It was a solid minute before she realized Archer didn't have a headset, and she'd just dumped everyone else and encrypted her comm... now she was in a channel by herself with whatever boogeymen the IPAF higher-ups had listening in.

"Don't suppose someone could air-drop my spotter a headset?" She grunted into the comm, feeling silly. She was starting to regret restricting Archer from the comms until he perfected his call-outs and could shoot straight. Zahn had insisted on training him when they'd been assigned together. Archer was just supposed to be her spotter, but since she was the only long distance marksman in the city she'd taken it upon herself. A sniper and a spotter were deadly on their own. A pair of snipers working in tandem was just cruel and unusual.

*Oh hey!* a voice rang in her ear after a while, causing her to jump a little as she ran.

"Archer?" She puffed, not bothering to run in cover, and instead making a mad-dash for the opening.

*Yeah I was gonna say something, you know like: 'wait, can I call your cell or something I don't have a headset' but you ran off so quick. No worries though, some hunk in a black suit showed up and brought me one.*

"Huh..." Zahn's gait faltered a little as she slowed to glance back at the rooftop with a spooked expression.

*You're gonna want to move leftish here in a sec.*

"What?" She slowed further, pressing the headset to her ear almost positive she'd misheard him, but movement in her peripheral vision caused her to snap her head up in time to dive out of way as a boulder-sized chunk of debris smashed into the concrete where she would have been standing had she kept moving. She landed roughly on her chest, driving snow down the neck of her thermal shirt and into her pants and boots. She spat snow from her mouth, scrambling to her feet and shambling to cover between a couple of buildings. Zahn pressed herself against the wall, breathing heavily, her ears ringing with adrenalin. She didn't even pause to catch her breath, instead she whipped out her sidearm and popped out of cover to snap off a couple of shots at the ice titan before returning.

*Oh now what the hell is that going to do?*

"I don't know! Wasting ammo! Makes me feel better! Should have sent you on this run!" she answered, nearly shouting. The adrenalin was still surging through every inch of her body, from having very nearly been crushed. Zahn had always been relatively safe in her nest during combat... not to say that she hadn't had some close calls, but none nearly as close as that!

*Alright I'm gonna take a shot and maybe buy you some time...*

"W-... WAIT!"

*Too late, it's on its way.*

Zahn immediately threw herself to the ground, this time feeling the wet chill of snow pressing against her skin between her breasts through the feverish adrenalin. She covered her head with her hands reflexively even though she knew the .50 caliber slug would punch straight through the building she was hiding behind. A second ticked by, though it felt like an age before she heard the chill snap of the slug screeching past and she opened her eyes in time to see it crush into the titan's good knee almost a second later, sending it crashing to the pavement as the joint was shattered like a cheap mirror. Another second ticked past and the deep throated POW of the Windrunner followed. For a moment she could only just blink... so that's what that felt like.

*I hit it!* Archer exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised.

"On purpose?" Zahn asked with a note of incredulity.

*Sure... can I keep this headset after we're done?*

"I'm not leaving you in charge of a herd of cats," she grunted at him as she pushed herself to her feet again and sprinted out of cover for the opening.

Back on the rooftop, Archer took his eye away from the scope for a few moments, looking out over the distance with his regular sight. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and grinned as he scooted over to his spotting scope to watch Zahn cover the rest of the distance to the facility. A few long moments ticked by as he waited, making sure the titan wasn't going to get up again just yet. He reached up and muted his microphone.

"Was that really necessary?" A bald man in a black suit asked him.

"She made me do push-ups... payback is a bitch," he smirked, watching her vault over a fallen pillar and vanish inside. He whistled in appreciation of the view.

"Aren't you gay?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just means I can appreciate a great ass when I see one. She really rocks those cargoes. The truth is, I wouldn't kick her out of my bed for eating crackers... even if 'crackers' was my dog," he informed with a wide grin. The man didn't reply, and instead just shook his head a little without changing his expression.

*I'm inside and through the security door,* Zahn chimed in his ear after what felt like too long. Archer reached up and unmuted his headset.

"Alright, once you're into the main facility you're on your own: the place is probably shielded all out of Star-Trek and shit. The other labs have informative signs and colored tape on the ground for you to follow, I imagine this one is no different. Once you're in the core the console you're after will be on your..." Archer hesitated, glancing up at the man in the black suit. He waved his right hand after undoubtedly rolling his eyes behind those dark sunglasses. "Right side, it probably has red and white striped tape all over it."

*That sounded like another guess...*

"An educated one," Archer smiled, and the headset popped in his ear, signifying that he'd lost Zahn's signal.

Archer sat up indian style and propped himself up with his hands, gazing out over the rooftop in the direction of the facility in silence while the man in the black suit did the same. It felt like an hour passed, but after a handful of minutes the facility went up in a bright orange flash. Archer leaned forward and peered through the spotting scope. The ice titan had finally been reduced into enough molecules to cease being a threat. All that was left of the surface facility was a burned out husk and a pile of rubble.

"Did she make it out?" Asked the man in a neutral tone. After a moment of silence, Archer's pocket began to vibrate. He pulled out his phone and checked it, then flipped the screen towards the man. Don't get your hopes up, I made it out. Pack to the dead drop, read the text on his screen. Seemingly satisfied, the man turned and exited through the roof access door. Archer leaned back, looking up at the sky, which had finally begun to clear up and let sunlight through. He sat for a long time before starting to pack up... and before he was finished, a chime sounded from one of his cargo pockets: an email notification from his other phone. He just smiled.

It was a long jog through the underground which Zahn took all the way to the IPAF headquarters. Zahn had escaped through the sub-levels of the facility, which were still intact. She allowed the biometric device to scan her retina, and scowled at it when it addressed her as "Julia Smith," but pushed her way inside anyway. She'd been after the guys in IT to fix that for weeks now. It was a brisk walk to Ana's office, which she poked her head in momentarily, looking for one person in particular, most of the other regulars were there. Her eyes narrowed and she shut the door, knowing where Kiser would be if they'd taken a new prisoner. She slid her hand into her pocket as she made her way to containment. Zahn was a ghost as soon as the door opened for her. She flitted down the hallway in and out of camera blind spots until she found what she was looking for: Kiser standing over the waking body of a Fae. She sidled up behind him, gripping an object in her pocket.

"Hey," she whispered, almost in his ear. She was already pulling her hand out of her pocket, fingers curled around a set of polished brass knuckles as she cocked her arm back and swiveled on her hips. When he turned to face her, she drove her fist straight into his face with every ounce of her strength.

"Don't you EVER leave a soldier behind again!" she spat, shaking with rage. Her right hand was shaking and covered in blood where the brass knuckles had dug into her flesh. Zahn had literally hit him so hard that she'd broken four of her fingers. "If you had radioed ahead like you're FUCKING SUPPOSED TO I could have been in position to cover you BEFORE things went sideways! Maybe then those soldiers wouldn't have had to die so that your worthless ass could escape!" she very nearly screamed, and managed to resist striking him again. Zahn took a deep breath and seemed to settle back into her persona as "Iceheart."

"I have a silver bullet with your name on it, Kiser, and if you ever try a stunt like that again it will find you," she threatened coldly and then spun on her heels, walking straight out. Now and then blood spattered the floor along her trail both from her shattered hand and from where she'd been clutching her opposite fist hard enough for her nails to dig into her flesh. Zahn slid the brass knuckles back into her pocket as she sidled silently into Anastasia's office to catch the rest of the meeting. She didn't bother hiding her broken and bloodied hand... her healing factor wasn't as strong as a full blown were, but the damage would heal over the next day or so. Zahn was in time to hear Rorgen mention visiting the 86B facility before the clean-up crew arrived. She kept a neutral face, sitting down without saying anything: it was classified, and if they didn't already know about the lower levels, then they didn't have the proper clearances. A wave of exhaustion washed over her as the last of her adrenalin ebbed away and she covered her mouth with her hand to hide a yawn, then continued to listen in silence. She didn't envy the minion that would get stuck with the paperwork over the entire fiasco and was just glad that she'd already submitted her report via email. Smart-phones were amazing nowadays...


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.”


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?"