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Aleksandr Zalewski

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's pink. Laugh it up, everybody does."

0 · 497 views · located in The Wicked

a character in “Wicked Ones”, as played by Artik

Description

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“You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground
Dig them up; let's finish what we've started”

Nineteen || 'Alek' || Scorch



|Gender|
Male

|Sexual Preference|
Heterosexual

|Role|
New Recruit

|Face Claim|
Takoru




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|Eye Color|
Despite the fact that they are more often than not hidden behind a pink fringe, Alek' eyes are an amber color (though they weren't always), and they are said to glow bright like molten gold when his abilities are triggered.

|Hair Color|
Not your average set of unkempt, and windswept locks, Alek sports a mop of bright and wild pink hair that stretches to the nape of his neck in the back, and tumbles about the bridge of his nose in the front. Did I mention it's pink? Yeah, it took him a while to get used to too.

|Body Type|
Lithe and athletic, this troublesome street artist tends to favor agility and dexterity over brute force - and thus his frame is built to suit his preferred style of movement.

|Standard Dress-up Attire|
Nothing special, your typical hoodlum attire. Jeans (occasionally of the skinny or fitted variety), colored, band, or internet meme based T-shirts. A ratty pair of converse he refuses to throw away, and hoodies. All of the hoodies.

|Height & Weight|
5ft 11in & 156lbs - give or take.

|Birthmarks, Tattoos, and Scars|
Not much by way of scars, most stuff tends to heal rather quickly. Other, Alek does have guages in his ears, and his tongue is pierced.




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|Personality|
A rather out-going individual, Alek has a sort of boyish charm about him. Caught at the crossroads of 'being an adult - but not there is still a 'teen at the end of my age', he tends to round down in terms of persona and behavior. Similarly outspoken, he doesn't exactly qualms with saying what's on his mind, sans filter - which either tends to earn a person's respect, or very quickly offend depending on who you are. However it's useful to mention that the kid doesn't say such blatant thoughts with any ill intent. Also a very tactile guy, he's the sort to sling an arm over a friends shoulder affectionately when walking, or stretch his legs out over their knees when lounging on the couch. Yet, he doesn't exactly pick up on everyday social cues all that well. If you don't enjoy that type of physical contact, feel free to thwap him upside the head to get the message across - otherwise, your subtle cough or eyeroll will go painfully unnoticed.

Not quick to judge either, Alek befriends rather rapidly. While you he won't be your best friend at the flip of a switch, he will certainly warm up quicker than most and will be one of the first to drag you into a conversation, or con you into playing a match of Mortal Combat with him when he can --- even if he only just learned your name. Once befriended, you can count on him being a reliable, loyal companion to the end. Alek is also known to revel in shock and awe; those unfortunate enough be a blip on his radar are subjected to scare tactics for his own personal, childish glee. Meaning, the kid enjoys a good prank or two when he can get away it. With that in mind, his behavior is rather unpredictable, and make his style of combat somewhat hard to handle if you can't anticipate his next swing.

At the end of the day, Game and art are the man's guilty pleasures, the former of which, in extraneous amounts, turns him into competitive, trash talking beast. Just as quick to teach you the controls as he is whine when you beat him, give the guy a minute to regain his pride and he'll have forgotten about it in mere minutes. Behind the scenes however, he'll practice and practice until the time comes when he demands a rematch. As far as art goes, Alek's fond of brick walls, spray cans, and a challenge. He enjoys having to paint with finesse while keeping track of the local authorities schedule in the back of his head, but it's the rush of making a well timed escape that excites him the most. All in all, Alek will defend his teammates as readily as he would taint the supper pot with scalding hot spices. You know, like a jerk uncle.


|Likes| |Dislikes|
✔ Warm Weather || ✘ Early Mornings
✔ Video Games || ✘ Ticking Clocks
✔ Graffiti || ✘ Burnt/Soggy Clothing
✔ Esoteric Novels || ✘ Crowds
✔ Good Food || ✘ Being Cooped up
✔ Bets/Dares || ✘ Authority







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|Strengths|
Confident, Agile, Quick-Witted, Protective, Unorthodox.

|Weaknesses|
Stubborn, Hot-Headed, Cocky, Impulsive, Brash.

|Fears|
Incineration || Getting his family involved || Screwing up.

|Mutagenic Flaws|
|| Lack-of-Control || - Being that this power of his has only cropped up relatively recently, Alek has minimal control and sway over it. As mentioned under the particular powers themselves, he struggles with igniting a flame and keeping it steady. Smokey the bear wouldn't approve.

|| H20 || - For obvious reasons, the substance opposite his mutation is also one of his weaknesses. Douse him with enough of the stuff and there's not much he can currently do about it.

|| Exhaustion || - Naturally, maintaining any fire takes fuel, and Alek only has so much of it. Like a leech on his energy, conjuring and controlling the blaze, not to mention passively preventing his skin from melting, he can only keep on his toes for so long. As a result, he's fond of naps.







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|Abilities|
Pyrokinesis: Generic as fuck, you say? Perhaps. Alek would even agree with you. After years of reading comics, and watching SuperHero flicks he was needless to say slightly underwhelmed with fate's genetic selection for him. Regardless of how he feels about, let's get down to business. Theoretically, Alek can generate, direct, and manipulate the combustible element to his hearts content - but that's assuming he knows how and what the hell he's doing. Currently, if he tries reaaallly hard, and makes a face that looks like he's about to take a mean dump, nothing fucking happens. Yet, if you jumped out from behind a corner and spooked the kid? You might just loose your eyebrows. The struggle here, is getting the ignition process started. Alek's ability acts up like an old junker car. If you can get the engine to turn over, it'll get the job done. Unfortunately, sometimes to get that initial spark going you've got to kick it two or three, or twelve times. Like that car, Alek needs something to get him started. Typically a little bit of raw emotions does the trick, but it's something he's working on. However, one he's got the stuff going - he tends to get rather excited - and when he get's excited, the white-hot substance begins to spread about his body as if someone had just poured some gasoline on it. (It also tends to ruin his clothes.)

But here's where things get interesting, because during the times where he manages to keep the wild fire under control, he can do some pretty snazzy stuff. When he can't reign things in though, he's noticed that bits of skin begin to melt away as smoke begins to billow. It's at this point that he tends to panic and dive into the nearest source of water to get himself back under control. The fact that he always appear to be completely back to normal post flames licking his skin gives the notion of some sort of regenerative healing factor. At the moment, projectiles are his most offensive ability, but his favorite has to be the would-be jet propulsion, which he currently uses to glide around. Think the Human Torch, or Hot Streak (but not quite as coordinated) and you get the idea. With some training and practice, Alek thinks he can probably perfect actual flight, maybe figure out some defensive constructs, and potentially make his flame inextinguishable - but who knows. As it stands the kid can currently be thwarted with a well timed water hose or a particularly heavy rainstorm.

Pyroporation: Pyro-whata-who? It's a mouthful, I know. Let me walk you through it, even if it's something Alek hasn't quite figured out yet. Here goes. Remember in the first or second Harry Potter films (I forget which, please don't take my nerd card.), Harry and crew sort of 'poof' via the Floo Network? Yeah, well Pyroportation is sort of, kind of, not quite like that. Basically, think of each crackling fire as a sort of portal. All of these 'portals' are interconnected (don't ask how, the math and science isn't quite there yet.), but akin to the internet and cyber space, Alek can act like an email or piece of data. In the span of just a few seconds the fire in which he was just engulfed can accelerate his molecules and transfer them from one blaze to the next - poof - just like that. But for this to work, he must be completely consumed in one fire in order to be linked to the next, though there is obviously a range limitation. Currently he can probably hop about 60 feet or so, but with some work, this could potentially increase to a few blocks, or maybe even across the length of a small city if he had the energy for it.









|Family/Relationships|
Father - Jacek Zalewski || Living || Geneticist, Research & Development for RSI Industries.
Mother - Anastasia Zalewski || Living || Seamstress, School Teacher
Sister - Delilah Zalewski || Living || Normal Human being, annoying yet lovable 8 year old girl.


|History|
Alek's childhood is nothing to write home about. Dad had a snazzy job at some research facility, but Mom taught at his elementary school - which to a little kid, was equal parts more exciting and more frustrating. Anyways, the Zalewski family sans Delilah spent a decent chunk of time living in Warsaw, Poland. It wasn't until the lovely Anastasia became pregnant with child number two that they packed up and shipped on over to the states. Papa Zalewski had gotten a job transfer, something regarding these 'special people' with 'special genes'; Mom was on maternity and all the planets had aligned to make their big move happen safely and smoothly. Settling down somewhere in Chicago, a few years were spent there as both kids grew up, and Alek started high school. It was around his senior year though when things started to go a little haywire.

It's hard to pin down exact dates, but maybe it was when he'd gotten a little too aggressive during a soccer game, and somehow, someway - the ball and net wound up scorched. Or hell, maybe it was the day his hair started to turn pink that gave him a definitive clue. That morning, Alek had woken up, and made it to his gym class before the odd color had really started to set in. It wasn't until afterwards, in the shower that he noticed how what was previously blonde, was no longer blonde. In fact, the whole goddamn locker room had noticed and had appropriately erupted into chuckling, snarky remarks and an abundance of girl jokes. However, one kid in particular laughed harder than most, and due to a series of pranks wars with said kid, Alek instantly knew who to blame. Irrationally angry that Robby had put some kind of pink die in his shampoo bottle (or whatever the justification was), he got into his first fist fight three months before graduation. The end result, Robby had a third degree burn, he had a black eye that lasted for maybe twenty minutes, and the fire alarm had gone off. By the time his dad had showed up to bring him home, the two Zalewski men had a heart to heart. His dad explained as much as he could what was going on, said he had some connections in LA, and upon graduation they'd be making a trip out there to see what could be sorted out. In the meantime, his mother and his sister simply think he's going to college.

|Reasons For Joining|
[i]n short, Comradery. Having practiced and managed his mutation mostly on his own up until graduation, he figures who best to learn from then those who are going through the same thing - not to mention while working for a good cause and getting to partake in thrilling adventures at the same time. It's a win win.


[/i]










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So begins...

Aleksandr Zalewski's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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Morgan


It wasn’t all that great a day, even for Morgan. The young man looked out the window of his office and released a sigh. ”Looks like a storm is coming, great just what I need today.” A playful pout settled on his face before it disappeared with him getting up from his comfy chair. “Alright time to gather everyone”, Morgan said to himself. Slipping into his favorite jacket and walked through the halls, knocking on few doors, while opening others, he gathered those he needed for the days objective.

There was only one door he chose not to knock or open the door to and that door belonged to none other than his dead girlfriends’ little sister, Mei. She was a rowdy kid despite being so small, thinking about the old times Morgan couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly his reminiscing was interrupted by a low grumble. Chuckling to himself, Morgan patted his stomach and ventured off to the kitchen for something to snack on. If Cain was already in the kitchen, Morgan would say his hello’s before grabbing a banana and heading for the garage.




Once again Morgan was sitting in a chair, a plastic one to be exact. He leaned back, with his hands laced behind his head, almost like he was sleeping. But you could tell from the way the lollipop kept moving around in his mouth as well as the occasional yawn. Looking around he glanced at his watch to check the time, 1:34, huh? It was the afternoon and relatively early so there weren’t too many people in the food court.

Most people were already done with their lunch breaks but never Morgan’s, his lunch break was whenever he felt it was best to have it. Those were the perks of being the leader of the most notorious gang in the underworld, the Wicked Ones. Even now Morgan couldn’t help but grin at the idea of how some ten years ago he lived with his parents, in a different base of Wicked Ones.

Groaning, Morgan sat forwards in his chair and looked over at the people who came with him. Mercy, Daniel and his sister, and Cain, of course seeing as it wouldn’t be wise for all of them to sit there in one spot. He had sent Raiden and Cain to standby a little ways away from the food court, over by some store of some sort that had a clear view of the food court. While he had Mercy and David stay within the food court, although he would have liked it if they sat with him.

“Man, Mercy why must you dress like that? No-don’t answer it, I know the answer. Actually I think I might actually have a solution for it but we can talk about it later. I’m getting bored waiting for them to show up, right Daniel?” He smiled at the both of them in hopes of creating a livelier mood. Glancing at his watch again, it read 1:40 so in about ten minutes the new recruits should hopefully be showing up. If there were any that is.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Aleksandr Zalewski
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#, as written by Renmiri
Asteria

[I'm climbing up the walls 'cause all the shit I hear is boring, all the shit I do is boring, all these record labels boring--]

Earbuds and mildly disinterested thoughts in hand, Aster wandered her way through the mall; catching (ignoring) drifts and coat-tails of wannabe illusions in her wake. She wasn't so much lost as having been ill-informed, as if 'meeting somewhere in that mall at around quarter to two' was even remotely specific. 'I guess I'm lucky that the street rats knew anything at all. Goes to show.' Perhaps it was a sign of her indifference that things weren't really working out-- like, maybe this wasn't the time to follow up with a split-second decision when she was grossly apathetic to the (heroic) cause-- 'But I'm bored to hell and anything goes,' apparently. (The ability for her to be motivated by her unmotivated nature had amused her, when she'd offhandedly decided to shack up with the Wicked Ones.)

While the mall was by no means full --it probably never would be, considering the dirt and grime-- it was surprisingly labyrinthine; Aster had already bumped into some red-headed teenager several times, an obviously lost kid mumbling about a food court. At this point, she'd kind of figured that, you know, 'shit happens. If I don't find them, then obviously this wasn't a good idea. Nothing to go on about.' And she was just about to debate the pros and cons of having to be invested in something (for the nth time) when she finally stumbled by the food court, and then the literal example through Shadow's skid on his face. The rest, as they say, was history.

'Real subtle, guys. Real subtle.' From half way across the court she could already see the makings of an particularly weird get-up (gas mask and gear, really?) and the addition of two guys at their table; including the unmistakable red mane of the dude she'd seen around. The amount of uncommon hair colours seated at the group alone seemed to make them conspicuous, particularly to a kid looking for strangeness (as most superpowered people tend to be eccentric, for some odd reason). 'And it's pretty hard to miss someone saying 'Wicked Ones', anyway.'

One arguably concerning moment of doubt later, Aster came up beside the female half of the pink-haired duo; earbuds down across her neck and the last whisper of [it's what you see, I know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me--] tickling in her ears. She wasn't one for presentation, and probably didn't seem like much with a worn hoodie and jeans/general unkempt everything (not to mention, the vaguely unenthusiastic expression on her face). It almost made her want to plead 'wrong table', 'but what the hell. This probably won't kill me. Probably.' She was this close to cringing.

Instead, Aster creatively offered: "Right. What they said." Obviously enchanted by the very idea, this one.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus
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Cain had, as usual, woken early. Today was quite the big day, after all. Today there would be a recruitment drive, and Cain knew what that really meant. While the others would be able to frolic about with their peers, for Cain, it just meant more work. More favors to be called in from the Police Department, more secret phone calls to the chief about the Wicked's movements just so they wouldn't get accidentally arrested, and more general housework. Though Cain had himself come up with the moniker of, "The Black Butler," he did resent how everyone treated him like a nuisance or a servant. Perhaps a display of authority was needed, but things like that could wait, after all, there was quite a bit of work to be done. Rubbing his milky eyes, and yawning loudly, Cain stretched, feelings his muscles loosen and the knots in his spine pop. Sighing contentedly, Cain stood, and began the process of getting the Wickeds ready for the day.

Cain picked up his combination crutch/cane, and made his way over to the dresser which sat across from his bed. Cain got himself dressed in his standard attire. A pressed, white, linen shirt, a herringbone patterned vest, black slacks, shiny black shoes with matching socks, a black suit jacket, and a purple tie. Cain made sure to wrap his card holster around his waist, allowing the deadly weapons to be hidden from sight during Cain's daily activities. Subtlety was key after all.

His clothes and cards at the ready, Cain washed his face, and sat at the desk in his room. While Cain's deck of thirteen cards was the most powerful tool he possessed, there are other uses for cards as well. Reaching into his drawer, Cain pulled out a Tarot deck, and began to handle the cards. He shuffled, riffled, washed, and cut the deck, allowing his energies to permeate the cards. While there was no real magic going on here, Cain did believe that the cards allowed him to focus his mind and divine certain tidbits about the day. Laying out a simple Cross of Kells, Cain focused on Morgan's face, and thought to himself, "What results might today's recruitment bring?" As his hands felt the cards, Cain read their Braille markings, and smiled.

After Cain had finished his morning rituals, he made his way to the Wicked's kitchen, where he would prepare all the day's meals in advance. While it was time consuming, it freed up the rest of the day to do other work that Morgan might find more pressing. Cain chuckled to himself as he thought about Morgan in a hurry. "A most amusing thought indeed. When has that man ever rushed?" Cain laughed again. It was rather funny. Though the director was quite a powerful, and busy man, he never seemed to do anything he didn't want to do. He wrote his own story everyday, and marched it to the beat of his own drum. Cain admired that about him. He was always perfectly at ease, never worried that things might not work out. Of course, he hadn't always been like that, but it had been so long ago, that Cain had almost forgotten. Pausing in the middle of his chopping, Cain sighed. It had been a simpler time then.

The rest of Cain's culinary preparations passed peacefully. He chopped, stirred, sautéed, spiced, flambéed, roasted, and fried effortlessly, and with dazzling efficiency. Cain had only taken up the cooking lessons on a dare, as a joke. He had never known just how useful they would be to him. Cain chuckled as he remembered the first disaster of a plate that he had put before Morgan. They had both looked at each other for a short moment before laughing hysterically and ordering pizza instead. Though Cain was blind, he was far from helpless, and his current skill in the kitchen was more than enough testimony to that statement of fact. As he was just putting the finishing touches on tonight's dinner, who else should walk in, but the director himself. Cain recognized him from the rumbling of his stomach and the pattern with which he walked. The director had a very distinct stride, and his growling stomach was ever-complaining about its need to be filled. Wiping off his hands, and turning to the sound of the rumbling, Cain smiled and greeted his friend. "Hello Morgan, hungry? I can't say I'm surprised." Cain chuckled at his own joke. "However, if you're getting hungry, that must mean it's nearly lunchtime, which means we should be going soon. I'm right behind you." Before he left, Cain made sure to knock twice on Mei's door. He said simply, "We're heading out Mei. I'm sure you don't want to come with, but do remember to eat something while we're out. I've prepared any number of dishes you might like, they're in the fridge, all wrapped up to stay fresh. All you have to do is heat them up if you get hungry." She didn't say anything, but then again, she rarely did anymore these days.



Having arrived at the Mall, Cain was immediately paired with Raiden, and made to keep watch and to mind the perimeter. Luckily, in a mall such as this, roughly an hour after most lunch breaks ended, the mall was quite empty. It was a weekday, after all, and people other than the Wickeds did have to work. There was the occasional shopper, or group of kids playing hooky, but nothing Cain found necessary to worry about. Cain smiled as Raiden teased the groups of boys they passed. She was so vivacious and sassy. "Don't get their hopes up so high, Miss Raiden. It's awful rude to make boys like that so excited for nothing." Once more Cain laughed at his own joke, but it was all good fun, a harmless jibe meant to make Raiden feel good about herself. "While I don't seem to find anything too dangerous here with us today, it might behoove us to remain on watch until our little recruitment is over. I'll send Chess to relay that message to Morgan. Though it is rather boring, do remain vigilant Miss Raiden."

At that, Cain reached inside his jacket, as one might to reach for their wallet, or their cigars, and flicked open the lid of his Card Holster. Finding the third card, Cain pulled the ceramic tile out from the stack, and flipped the card in his hands once, twice, before pulling his sleeve up ever so slightly, and sliding the sharp edge of the card along his wrist. The blood price extracted, Cain allowed the necessary blood to drop into the card. After Cain had allotted the appropriate amount of blood, a small lick of purple flames bathed the wound, sealing it up, and leaving a thin, pale scar. As the ink and blood began to bubble and congeal, Cain whispered the activation phrase, "Number three, the Sign of Despair, come forward." The card bust into purple flames, and a small symbol appeared over Cain's right hand, a circular mark, the sign of despair, and a Roman numeral, number three. As the flames from the card faded from existence, it revealed Cain's familiar. Once the blood had finished binding to the ink within the card's picture, it became reality, a small blob of swirling and fluctuating color. The shape became more and more defined, until the fully formed cat was as real as any other, floating in midair before Cain. Cain placed his hand in his pocket so as to hide the glowing symbol, the mark of his familiar. The ritual complete, Ches, the Cheshire cat, dropped to the ground, and glared sullenly at Cain before making his way across the Food court and jumping up onto Morgan's lap.

Though the cat wore an apathetic, hopeless expression, it was rather handsome. Further, such an odd looking cat simply walking up to a human would have been quite queer any other time at all, especially one who looked so depressed. Further, and rather strangely, the cat spoke. "The master wishes me to tell you that he finds nothing to report, but that he'll keep watch until your meeting is done. While I personally think it's a waste of your time, if you tell me anything you might want him to know, my thoughts will be transmitted back to the master, provided I stay within 200 meters of him. Also, though I didn't think you'd want to, would you mind petting me? The master never does it right... That's my luck though, isn't it, I'm forced to work for that man, bound to his side for the rest of his life, and yet, he's go no idea how to treat his pets. Typical..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Aleksandr Zalewski Character Portrait: Daniel Wing
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Kelsier laid on the floor tossing and turning. It was another one of 'Those' nights. No matter what he did Kelsier couldn't calm enough to get to sleep there was simply to much going on in his head right now. Tomorrow was the day of the Wicked Ones recruitment meeting. He'd already decided he was going to show up, but that didn't mean that the Wicked Ones would accept him into the group. After all he had almost no control over his abilities why would a group want him. The rest of the night slowly ticked away as Kelsier continued rolling around on the floor of his abandoned building.

The next morning Kelsier packed up everything he had with him. Weather he was accepted into the Wicked Ones or not this was the last night he spent in the broken down building. As he walked out the door of his 'room' he pulled a loose hoodie over his head throwing the hood up. Slowly he wandered onto the street to look for some food checking his pockets he sighed. "No money I'm the only person stupid enough to run away without bringing any money for food." He sighed deeply ignoring the growing rumbling coming from his stomach.

It was a long and slow journey to the Mall where the meeting was taking place mainly due to Kelsier's taking back alleys and roads trying to avoid as as many people as possible. The closer Kelsier got to the mall the more nervous he got. He checked his watch, probably the only thing he brought from home that would have any real value. 12:30. It was almost time and Kelsier was still a ways away from the mall. Silently cursing himself he began to run through the alley that would dump him out in the mall's parking lot. As he ran a strand of hair fell into his face. Not normally a problem but the hair was red.

Kelsier froze in his tracks staring at the strand of hair. "No, this can't happen now I have to go meet them. I'm done running away. Someone there will be able to teach me I'm sure of it." The strand of hair slowly gave way back to its normal white color and Kelsier took a deep breath and resumed his approach to the mall. It had taken almost an entire hour but he'd finally arrived at the mall.

As he walked up to the doors he pulled the hood of his sweater securly down over his head and walked quickly through the doors heading for a table at the back of the food court where hopefully he wouldn't draw any extra attention to himself. He sat looking around trying to see if he could identify any of these 'Wicked Ones.' There were some odd looking people scattered through the mall. As the time clicked closer Kelsier began to get nervous again luckily his hair was hidden under his hood so hopefully no one would notice that it had again turned a dull red. The closer the time came the more nervous Kelsier became, he began locating the exits making sure if things went south he'd be able to get out quickly.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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Morgan


He grinned at Mercy’s response and chuckled at Daniels, already the day seemed to be a good one. Everyone was in relatively good moods but Morgan could tell that the both of them were skeptical, well Mercy was anyway, that there might not even be recruits. “Nah, don’t say that Mercy you’ll jinx us.” Shortly after saying that, one of Cain’s cards popped up out of nowhere it seemed plopping himself down in his lap.

Surprised by the sudden appearance of Ches, Morgan glanced over towards the store he knew Cain and Raiden were waiting at. Looking back down at the cat, “Is there something wrong?” shortly after asking that, the cat gave him a full report along with an explanation of how pointless it was to hold the meeting. “Well now, don’t be like Mercy. Like I told her you’ll jinx us with your depressing thoughts. But I’ll pet you but don’t complain if I do it wrong.” Morgan chuckled quietly at the cat before resting his hand on his back and started to stroke his fur.

Not long after Morgan started to pet Ches a girl (Qynna) with pink hair appeared in front of them. She wore a simple outfit and at first Morgan simply thought she was over to question Mercy’s appearance but the next words that left her lips brought a sly smile to his face. “I don't suppose you guys are the 'Wicked Ones' are you?" Morgan looked up at her, stopping his hand above Ches’s soft fur. But before he could answer a commotion went up a few yards away from where he and the others were sitting.

The poor kid tripped over his own feet heading towards their direction and was sent skidding across the floor a couple feet on his face. Morgan laughed aloud seeing the kid (Shadow) pop right back up with a question and a greeting, “Hello! Am I late too late to join the Wicked ones?” Morgan chuckled, “Depends who’s asking.” Morgan grinned and looked over at Mercy then Daniel to see how they were reacting to the guy.

Not long after his question two other people showed up, one (Asteria) besides the first girl, while the other showed up next to the guy who just tripped. The two of them agreed with what he (Shadow) had just said but only the guy (Alek) looked to be enthusiastic about saying it. Morgan smiled and leaned back in his chair, taking the lollipop out of his mouth, he looked the four of them over. Hmm they look like a fun bunch. He bent down a bit over Ches and whispered in the cats ear, “You know what to do.” He made sure to keep his voice low so only Daniel and Mecry could hear him. Morgan didn’t want the newcomers to worry about his cryptic words. Watching Ches jump off his lap and head towards his master’s direction, Morgan looked back over at the four standing before him.

“So I’m guessing you guys are here for the meeting eh? Well I can tell you that you’ve come to the right place. And here we thought no one would come, right Mercy? he motioned over towards the green-hair woman. “So tell me what brings you on down here, I’m curious as to how you guys managed to hear about us. Not that I’m worried you’re the Feds or anything but hey you gotta take precautions am I right?” He motioned once more but towards the four of them, Morgan focused his attention on the last girl (Asteria) to arrive. “So what brings you here little lady?” he asked.

Hearing her answer, Morgan looked over at the clumsy one (Shadow), “I saw your fall earlier, hope you’re okay. What brought you here?” getting his answer he looked over at the girl (Qynna)with pink hair. “Sorry for not answer your question earlier but as you can see this guy over here kinda made a commotion and I have a rather short attention span. What in the world convinced you to listen to the rumors?” And finally he turned to the guy with red hair (Alek), “And you? Who were you talking to earlier, if it’s just a little something personal then you don’t have to answer my question.”

Morgan popped back the lollipop back in his mouth, leaning forwards in his chair, he rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands in front of his face. “The reason I’m asking you is so I can tell the boss of what sort of people are joining in and whether or not he’ll want you to join us. Not that your reasons weren’t good enough but you see it isn’t up to me.” Every word he said was a total lie, something he did routinely with every recruit meeting they had. Just to make sure none of them were spies or something of that sort, Morgan looked at Daniel and Mercy, “So tell me what you two think, should we tell the boss?”

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Aleksandr Zalewski
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#, as written by Byte
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He was having a great time at her expense, wasn't he? A grin began to form behind the shroud of her gasmask as Mercy felt especially talkative when Morgan had to jokingly chastise her. “Don't look at me...” She began, managing a nonchalant shrug directed at the Wicked leader. “You told me this very morning you weren't expecting anyone to-” In the midst of her attempts to bait Morgan in the feint hopes that he'd be up for some harmless bickering, the first of the unexpected recruits had approached the less than subtle group. “show... up...”

“I don't suppose you guys are the 'Wicked Ones' are you?”

“Nah...” Mercy instantly responded to the young girl disinterestedly, turning her head to glance at the first arrival. “We're the freak fandango orchestra, but I like to think the two are similar. So you're at the right address.” She allowed a short laugh to echo through her gasmask, hoping she'd appreciate a joke, albeit a terrible one.

“Sweet hair dye, by the way.” Mercy managed to remark on the girl's pink hair, before the once peaceful scene was abruptly interrupted by the antics of an unfortunate fellow who skid across the floor face first. She could only giggle at the ridiculous of that fall, but otherwise remained completely silent as Morgan took the opportunity to answer the man's question if he was running horribly late.

Not long after that, the interval between arrivals was getting shorter by the minute. As with the clumsy sod's somewhat painful entrance, two more had arrived to the table. Though only one in particular got her full attention. “The fuck?” Mercy exclaimed, raising a single eyebrow at the sight of the man ballsy enough to walk around with pink for a hair colour. “Did I miss something? Is this a recruitment, or the annual meeting of people with eccentric hair dyes?” Her eyes darted between the three with the more... out of the norm looks. The girl, pink-boy over here, and the clumsy sod who, although the least flamboyant out of them, sported black hair with red streaks.

Cool... Was all Mercy could think, before turning to Morgan who had begun starting the usual introductions and questions to the reason the recruits wanted to join. Too bad their dear leader was feeling particularly witty today. Cocking her head sideways and folding her arms, Mercy let out a sigh. “Just say yes already, Morgan. Your games are exactly the reason why we never recruit anyone.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Aleksandr Zalewski
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Qynna cracked a small smile at the green haired girl's joke, joking was a clue that she could start relaxing. "Well I play a mean timpani if you don't have one in your orchestra yet," she said leaning against the table. At the mention of her hair color Qynna was about to say thank you before she heard a commotion coming from behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see a guy with strikingly red hair fall on his face. Qynna cringed as if she could feel the pain on her own face, but the guy just jumped right back up and made his way quickly over to them. He asked if he was late, Qynna was biting her lip trying not to have an obvious amused smile show.

Shortly after he showed up two more people joined him, agreeing with his statement; a guy with pink hair and a girl that came up next to her. Seems like a started a new a trend, Qynna thought to herself as the spiky haired guy started to ask why everyone was joining. The girl with green hair spoke up about if they were recruitment or the "annual meeting of people with eccentric hair dyes". Qynna laughed a little, "We could start a wicked punk rock band if we wanted to," Qynna agreed. When the guy asking the questions got to her Qynna just shrugged, "Just tired of being alone ya'know?" She hoped desperately this reason was good enough, though she admitted to herself that she needed help doesn't mean that she has to state to the world that she's weak enough to ask for it. She would go about getting help her own way; a complicated and well thought out plan of getting people to feel the need to fight for her by becoming part of their group.

She listened to the other's reasons as to why they were joining, while also trying to stop the strong need for nicotine that was growing inside her. Sometimes she really did hate this almost nervousness that came with being addicted, but it's not like she had never tried to stop smoking, it's just that it never worked out and sooner or later she knew she would be smoking again.

After everyone was done speaking the spiky haired guy spoke up saying that they needed to talk with their boss before they could actually let them in the group. The way he had acted, Qynna thought for sure he was the boss; he was the one doing most of the talking and he seemed a bit more cocky than the others especially with that lollipop, even if the cockiness was just for show than anything else. However, she didn't say anything pointing him out on that fact, just kept quiet hoping that they would make a decision soon.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Aleksandr Zalewski
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Shadow only blinked as more and more people began to show up, then a grin appeared on his face 'I wasn't late!' Shadow thought. Hearing "Yeah - what he said." Shadow glance over seeing a pink hair guy sitting on a table, 'Another recruit? At least I'm not alone." Shadow thought before glancing at the other way after hearing another person say "Right. What they said." looking at the source Shadow looks over at the woman who had a light color of Blond to her hair his grin getting larger and larger as more people had appeared. Shadow was happy more people were coming in at least he wasn't the only one who heard of this meeting and best of all he assumed everyone here had an ability such as him, maybe he could finally find a place where he can relax and call home; maybe though it all depends on what these guys intentions are obviously Shadow is going to be weary of them, he wont give too much information, since they could be out to hurt or capture us ability holders.

Shadow glance at the lime haired girl who he assumes her name is Mercy as the man with glasses refereed to her as such and the pink haired one as they were having a weird conversation about an orchestra and making a punk rock band Shadow couldn't help but to chuckle a bit, then Mercy commented on the variety of hair colors Shadow looked around everyone had a weird color, "I for one can say my hair is quite natural though very rare... Like my eyes!" Shadow said to the lime haired woman.

Shadow then glanced over back at the man with glasses as he began to ask questions the first one to be questioned was the last girl to come by the light blond haired girl Shadow kept quiet and glanced over at the woman as she answered with only a slight smile on his face. Then the man then directed himself to Shadow and asked him a few questions as well, after hearing them he smiled a little wider and fixed his scarf, " Great I though I was late for the recruitment I got a tiny tiny bit lost on my way to getting here..." Shadow said scratching his face a bit pausing for a moment then he added "I'm Fine! I've had way worse falls than that trust me ehehe! Hmmm I came to learn about this meeting a few days back, I overheard some people saying that a notorious gang called the Wicked Ones was going to recruit today, I would usually ignore rumors like that but when I heard they also had abilities I made it my top priority to check it out! Since well I really want to find a place I can call home and be myself with people like me and not worry about being called a freak or weirdo. " Shadow said to the man hopping he had answered correctly.
Shadow had thought the man was the leader since he was asking the questions maybe he thought wrong, though one thing's for sure though, he must be way up in the ranks and be in the group for a long time to let him take over the Recruitment, same goes for Mercy and the blond haired man. "They must be trusted individuals within the gang." Shadow thought, but Shadow would find out soon hopefully if he got to join.

As the others were being question Shadow also kept quiet and listened to them, not wanting to be rude or anything. He glanced over around the mall looking at nothing in particular then yawned a bit placing his hand over his mouth as pure custom before his yawn, even after all that's happen in truth Shadow didn't sleep that much the day before since he didn't actually know where this mall was located so he spent a lot of time trying to find it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Aleksandr Zalewski
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#, as written by Artik
Well, he'd found the right place and consequently the right people - not a half bad start to today's little endeavour. Though, he wasn't sure what the next step was if he didn't pass this obviously rigorous recruitment inspection. He really only had two options in that case - Call back home, and shatter the facade that he wasn't actually attending college, or pretend he got in and try to convince this gang of misfits he was worth it anyway. But, lets not jump ahead - maybe he could make a stellar first impression.

As one of five, Alek sat or rather slouched with a natural sense of nonchalance. Elbows rested atop knees and he head was on the swivel, taking in either comrade or competition. The guy that had taken a mean digger, the blonde music buff, the hooded fella', and the gal that could play a mean timpani.

"--What the hell's a timpani?"
Came the out of place inquiry, as his posture eased back, shoulders rolling. Alek's head fell to a slight tilt, brow quirking as the conversation seemed to ramp up and get more on point. He'd apparently have to wait to have his question answered, but in the meantime, the amber optics now surveyed the Wicked group themselves. There was the interviewer, a rather eccentric individual, he could have sworn there was some sort of talking cat, and a woman with a gas mask. Now that - was interesting. Unabashed, the young man's brows furrowed at the contraption strapped to her face, analyzing it with the little knowledge he had of such technology.

The hair joke registered a little late, and he breathed out a chuckle, fingers brushing stray pale pink strands out of his eyes just in time for Morgan to fire a question in his direction. Who had he been speaking to, why was he here, how he'd hear about them. Responses would come out of order, and after a moment's consideration. After all, he wasn't about to just say he was speaking to his Mom was he? Talk about embarrassing.

"Why? Ah, ya' know..comradery.. Birds of a feather n' all that? If anyone thought he was joking, the sincere grin on his features might have swayed such opinions. "As for the phone call --" Alek's shoulders were tossed back in a shrug, fingers fidgeting with the hairs at the back of his neck. "Half of the folks back home think I'm getting some sort of college degree right now. Instead, I'm hanging out at a mall with a group of genetic anomalies. So yeah,.. screw calculus, hoo-rah super mutants."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard Character Portrait: Aleksandr Zalewski
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#, as written by Renmiri
Asteria

'A sarcastic bunch, ha.' She snickered, face and body language morphing from the hesitant 'maybe I should get the fuck out of here' into less like the trip was such a bad idea. Better than the time a kid had made like Wolverine, anyway. Had given her a headache (and enough second-hand embarrassment) for days.

“So what brings you here little lady?”

An eyebrow involuntarily went up. 'Little lady?' Aster had half a mind to literally credit her boredom, but god knows that'd make a pretty horrible first impression. Nah, might as well make it a joke or something later, like 'once I joined a super-villain hunting group because I was bored trololol'. Or maybe not, that's kind of a dick move. Right, she should probably answer the question from the guy with the spiky 'do (and probably start taking him seriously, yes)-- "I've got nothing better to do, figured that someone like me might come in handy for a group like yours." She paused, thought for a second. "And, you know. People."

Then it went to everybody else, in which case she listened semi-attentively and inconspicuously shifted on the balls of her feet (as uncomfortable with being in too plain of a view as she is). The others she didn't think too much about --easier to ignore and tamp down stray illusions that way-- but remembered a few impressions, like 'Black and red likes to talk a lot, huh?' and 'College degrees, eh. Wicked Ones, potentially life-threatening, but obviously the better choice.' The sarcastic duo were already accounted for (meh, appearances. Whatever.), and through it all she still couldn't really see spiky 'do as the leader. Go-to guy, sure, but leader? Nah. (Probably has something to do with 'little lady'. She's heard that her entire life from assholes on the street, in which case 'fuck you' and a middle finger.)

In the end, well. Aster wasn't particularly looking forward to what she'd gotten herself into, but it was entertaining already to be sure. The deliberating, though? Down to dirt she didn't really care, but began to itch to play with the worn switchblade in her pocket. Her illusions always made her a bit antsy to be in congregating areas, not that anything was out of the ordinary. She just liked the extra insurance of appearances (less people willing to mess, or even look at, a girl with a knife).

If she already gunned for a good impression, she might as well keep it for the span of one conversation, right? Aster settled for fidgeting with her earbuds instead, silent as she watched. (And wished, prematurely, that they'd hurry up; she was a solitary, glorified street-rat with little love for malls, after all. Unless she's stealing, in which case she's all for it.)

Setting

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Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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Morgan


He pouted at Mercy's deman, "Aw why do you have to be that way? You know I like having fin" His pout turing into a cheesy grin, at the pink haired (Qynna) girls joke. Morgan leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees as while he listened to each of their replies. He wasn't too particular on their answers not long after Ches came back and jumped on the table. And right behind him was a younger looking kid, from Morgan's view he looked closer towards Mei's age than his own.

The gloomy felone soon went into a manoluge explaining the late arrival of the soon named Kelsier. Funny enough, Ches actually managed to get humurous with the pink haired fellow. Which earned the cat a large smile and a chuckle. It seemed Cain took over for a moment before Ches came back to his right state of mind. Hearing that one question he knew his good friend was going to ask, Morgan rubbed his chin in thought.

Then Ches went up in smoke, in his place was a ceramic tile that held the cats image. Soon after the man himself appeared, telling the newcomers of his role with the Wicked Ones. "Well it was quite the amusing insult, mind you (he motioned to Alek). Any how I don't think I've introduced my green-haired gasmask of a companion. As for me I'm Morgan the-" Right at that moment a loud crash could be heard from one of the hallways leading to a string of stores. Which was soon followed by a small explosion, immediately Morgan tensed but he sat where he was.

Soon enough the source of the newfound chaos popped up, it was pretty hard to miss them too. She was pretty hard to forgot but Morgan's face turned grim. Glancing over at Mercy, Morgan stood up one hand outwards signalling to the newcomers to stay where they were. "Looks like we've got company and its not the good kind."

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Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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"Oh my..."

Though Cain had spoken quite calmly, he was, rest assured, worried. How long had it been since they'd seen... well, since he'd heard, something like that? Although Cain hadn't always been the fondest of Aini, he had to admit, albeit somewhat begrudgingly, that she did make a rather impressive entrance. Wheezing as if she hadn't smoked in weeks, and walking with a stumbling gait, she seemed ragged, and run down. Even worse, it didn't sound like it was just because of her particular penchant for distressed clothing. No, something was quite off about Aini Lestari, that much was definitely certain. Though Cain couldn't quite tell what, as he was, regrettably, without eyes at the moment, he could tell she was in some bad shape. "It would seem we have a visitor Morgan, and an unwanted one at that. What's your call? I suppose a good place for me to start would be with giving you an extra soldier." Though Cain's tone appeared playful, even calm, he was far from such things. Cain still remembered the last time he'd seen Aini. She was, to say the least, not currently vying for the honor of being at the top of Cain's prestigious, "Most Favorite Person in the Whole Wide World," list. As he finished speaking, Cain's entire body was wreathed in purple flames, a show of power. Though the flames weren't hot, they produced a powerful wind, which caused his clothes to ripple and flow. One hand firmly gripping the handle of his cane, the other gloved appendage snaked its way into Cain's jacket pocket and produced a card, the same one that he'd put away just now. As much as he hated to admit it, Ches was the best option in this situation. He'd have to be a complete idiot to try and match Aini's physical might with one of the incarnations of his own. She would tear that card apart, and Cain would have to make a new one. No, it would be better to oppose Aini with the untouchable Cheshire Cat. Less casualties that way.

As he always did, Cain slid the razor edge of the card against the skin of his wrist, allowing the blood to drip onto the card. Once the allotted amount of blood had been spilled, more purple flames licked Cain's wound, and the laceration healed over as if it had never existed in the first place. As handy as it was that the wounds closed themselves, Cain hated that he couldn't make the process hurt any less. Either way, such worries would have to wait. After all, there were other things to take care of at the moment. "Number three, the Sign of Despair, come forth!" At Cain's command, the card and blood burst into purple flames. Next, a small symbol appeared over Cain's right hand, a circular mark, the sign of despair, and a Roman numeral, number three. As the flames from the card faded from existence, it revealed Cain's incomplete familiar. Once the blood had finished binding to the ink within the card's picture, it became reality, a small blob of swirling and fluctuating color. The shape became more and more defined, until the fully formed cat was as real as any other, floating in midair before Cain. Once more, with a sullen glance, the Cat glared at Cain. "Aww..." The cat moaned with complaint. "First you put me away just as I was having fun, now you've brought me back just as I was settling down to take a nap. You really are the worst person I know..." Ches said grumpily. "That's enough Ches. You can nap later. Further, You're not to command me. I am your master and you would do well to remember it." Stymied, the cat remained silent. Cain was never this angry with him. Something very bad must be about to happen. Rather obediently, the Cat stepped out in front of Morgan, and scanned the room until its eyes found Aini. Seeing the threat, Ches growled angrily. It, like all the other familiars, shared Cain's memories, and Ches was just as unhappy with Aini and Cain was. "Ches, you are to obey Morgan's orders for the time being. I have some other business to take care of. Do I make myself clear?" Though the cat said nothing, it twitched its tail as a sign of agreement and understanding. "He's all yours Morgan. While you're taking care of that, I'll be securing the little ones. We can't have them off proving their worth against an adversary like this" In a softer tone, a whisper just for his Leader, Cain added. "Do be careful. Don't forget, that woman is capable of anything." Once that was taken care of, Cain turned and spoke to the new recruits.

"Alright now kiddies, stand back behind me please. What you see before you is one of our ex-members, and not exactly the friendliest one at that. It would behoove you to remain as far away from her as possible. I realize that some of you might be rather confident in your powers. Believe me, I applaud your bravery and confidence, but let us not be foolish." Cain said calmly, attempting to corral the new recruits behind him with his words. "That woman doesn't have a shred of mercy in her heart and is blessed with insane physical condition. She didn't set off any explosives when she entered the building. No, Aini most probably simply walked through the wall. If you engage her, she will tear your head off as soon as look at you. It's not an exaggeration. It's a fact." Cain hoped, beyond all hope, that none of the new recruits had any foolish notions about fighting with Aini. She wasn't someone even Cain, a seasoned Wicked, wanted to tangle with.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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#, as written by Renmiri
Asteria

"Wait, hold up-- what the fuck? It's been literally twenty minutes and the Hulk's already here to kill you? Should I be impressed?" She felt like she should've seen it coming, or heard it coming, anyway-- like, where was all the screaming, the panicked masses running in the opposite direction, the tragic yet dutiful news reporters? But oh, right. Aster didn't need to see the trail behind Psychopath, much less peek inside an illusion, to come to the conclusion 'run the fuck away, fast'. It was only natural, after all. To a spiked powerhouse like that, anyone was basically a half-dead rabbit served up on a plate.

Perhaps with the adrenaline buzzing in her veins, some luck, and maybe if she was really careful with her illusions-- Aster knew she had a chance of getting out of there. It wouldn't be anything that she'd never done before, you know? Saving her own skin, saying 'to hell with the world', playing survivor for a game that taught people what not to be. Psychopath? Not her problem. People like that-- people like that were like the meth heads, the street rats who shot themselves higher until they burned up in the sun; fucking up everyone else every step of the way (dying without even the decency of paying back her couple hundred, assholes). Psychopath would kick the bucket eventually, under a Wicked One or a U.S. nuke. Aster didn't really need to do anything at all.

She certainly didn't owe anyone anything. 'Less even some heroic group of misfits looking for a place in the world.'

But, as she watched the weird classy dude summon the weird cat with an attitude (Despair, was it? Didn't he seem too cute for that?), she realized that damn it, she was hesitating. And not just because of the whole 'bravery and confidence' thing ('Pfft, right.'), but rather at the absurdity of it all-- Aster almost wanted to laugh, because of course the arch-villain had an 'insane physical condition' and had it personal with the Wicked Ones. That amusement though, that was the point. When was the last time that she'd wanted to laugh in the face of a bloodthirsty, partially insane psychopath? Longer than it should've been acceptable. 'Life's fucking boring, what's a girl to do?'

So Aster broke no argument when she stood behind Cain's shadow, decidedly not leaving and yet not enthusiastically volunteering herself either. She'd stay, sure, but it didn't seem like she was needed anyway; and this was as good of a time as any to see what she'd really signed up for (or what the Wicked Ones were made of). And by the sound of the ringing in her head (something painful altogether, like nails on a chalkboard), she knew that this time-- if she let up, this time her illusions would definitely go out of control. Psychopath's bloodlust was on a whole other level, and even with the somewhat far proximity she was still manhandling Aster's ability along.

It didn't take a genius to figure that Psychopath probably wanted (and therefore, would have seen, felt) a delicious massacre of the Wicked Ones, but it sure as hell wouldn't stop there. Aster was almost curious, whether it would end with the collapse of L.A., the state, or the country altogether. 'Or would it even end?' It was probably better not to know.

Aster winced, a hand to her head, as she made an effort to not look at Psychopath (it's worse when she does); cringing at the increasing volume of internal screeching. Her control had always been precarious at best, but this time it'd just have to be worse, given how she wasn't running away. She muttered, "'As far away from her as possible', right. Would the other side of the city count?" Astor was poised, alert, probably at the furthest back in the group; conspicuously inconspicuous, so to speak. Evidently uninterested in getting involved with Psychopath, anyway.

If one cared to look, it'd be fairly obvious that she was fighting something supernatural-- and so she vaguely offered to anyone concerned (or within earshot):

"If I lose it, knock me out. Doesn't matter how, you'll know. And I'm fine."


Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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"Knock you out? Okay...if that's what you want," Qynna said. She was a bit unsure how to go about this situation. Her ego and pride told her to ignore the guy's orders, and the fact that they were orders made her grind her teeth a little, but then again this woman was typically someone that Qynna would more than happily run away from instead of fight. But she needed these "Wicked Ones" to save her ass from those gangsters in New York and they couldn't do that if they were dead. All signs were pointing to helping them out, but her feet wouldn't move, and the girl with the pink hair was uncertain if it was out of fear or if she for once was actually going to obey someone else's orders. Either way her feet not moving was pretty embarrassing for her.

Qynna looked around at the others, at the moment none of them seemed to be moving either, and Hell they didn't know that she wanted to move but couldn't, they weren't fucking mind-readers...or at least she hoped none of them were. So she just sat down, trying to look as though she had decided to not do anything, but instead just watch the scene as it was going to play out.

"Well since the mall has gone to shit, I guess there's no stopping me from smoking," Qynna said, she wasn't entirely certain if it was loud enough for other's to hear or not, but honestly she didn't care. She was just relieved that she could actually calm her shaking nerves right now. She pulled out a box of cigarettes from her pocket along with a sleek, black lighter. She reclined in the chair she sat down in, bringing one of her legs up as was the usual "chilling" position that she had. The nicotine felt good running inside her and she could immediately tell a difference as her nerves stopped their shaking. She breathed out, letting the cloud of smoke dissipate in front of her face.

She was calm, she was relaxed, and now completely less worried about not being able to move earlier. Qynna just chalked that off as needing her smokes rather than fear. It made more sense to her, I mean who was this person anyway? A stranger with some extreme form of strength, nothing to bat an eye at. Sure it would be more difficult to take down someone like this, but Qynna figured that she could find a way eventually. A sudden thought came into her head about that girl's comment from earlier. She reached under the table, her arm slipping through the shadows to a kitchen she had once saw, and one specific draw. Her hand groped around blindly in the draw for a little bit till she felt a handle touch her hand, her fingers wrapped around it and she pulled her arm back. When her arm came back to where she sat in the demolished food court of the mall, it was gripping a smallish frying pan.

"Hey blondie think this will work in knocking you out? That is if the time came," Qynna asked the girl holding up the pan and looking rather proud of herself. It was almost as if she were making some sort of joke, a wide smirk on her face and her eyes slightly crinkled. There were more loud crashes and dust that came, but Qynna was almost completely oblivious to it. They didn't want her help, fine, they wouldn't get it. They wouldn't even get her attention if that's how they felt. She took another raw inhale of her cigarette, letting it hang in her lungs for a bit before blowing it out again. With her addiction satisfied Qynna was now more like her usual self instead of some jittery squirrel of a thing.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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A loud crash echoed through out the mall as rubble and debris flew everywhere Shadow looked to the source seeing a shadowy figure between the smoke and dead bodies, was this some kind of initiation? A test to show their worth? Shadow was trembling with excitement this hasn't happen to him in a long time the air around him began to fluctuate noticing this Shadow began to take deep breaths to calm himself down and after a few seconds he did gaining his composure once again. That person was trouble Shadow knew this, heck that person killed a few people just by bursting through the wall! His conscience was screaming to run but he couldn't so many people were killed he couldn't stand idly by and let this go on any further, whether it meant his death or not he had to try and stop that person. All his survival instincts kicked in, he was in full alert and danger sensitive his eyes fixed on the one who burst through the wall, quickly analyzing her from head to toe, he readied a slight stance and was about to jump right in to fight. Only to see the Right hand man of the Wicked Ones leader Cain summon the cat that Shadow had seen disappear only moments ago,'Sign of Despair? Number Three? Is that his ability or something, to summon that weird talking cat? He did say three so are there more? ' Shadow thought, then Cain turned his attention to us the new recruits and told us to stand back; that that woman would easily and without a second though kill us on the spot.

Shadow quickly snapped back to normal and looked Cain after he finished talking "I could see she's dangerous, but that's no excuse to cower in fear before her, I may be a new recruit and not know anything but I can't stand idly by and watch her slaughter innocent people it goes against my moral code. There's something I could help with! As you said I am quite confident in my fighting prowess and abilities! " Shadow said. It may be true that this Aini person could easily outmatch Shadow with her 'insane physical condition' meaning shes probably many times stronger than Shadow in a physical perspective of course, but Shadow shared a similar condition albeit he may not be able to easily smash an entire wall and keep on going with no damage. 'Heh.... maybe jumping in head first isn't the smartest strategy, and know that I think of it Aini is a woman how should I go over this...' Shadow thought. He should analyze Aini and build a profile on her and see if he could find anything to help him at least survive if need comes.

"If I lose it, knock me out. Doesn't matter how, you'll know. And I'm fine." hearing this Shadow looked at the woman she had a hand over her head and was cringing it looked as if she was about to burst. "I'm not fond of hitting women but I'll try my best to not see you cause a scene heh. " Shadow said to Asteria with a reassuring smile on his face, he was calm and collected, a bit oblivious to the overwhelming danger around him but that's just how he is so he couldn't help it.
Slightly glancing at the other woman as the smell of cigarette smoke made its way through his nostril Shadow waved his hand clearing a bit of the smoke, "You know those things kill you right? A beautiful woman like yourself shouldn't be smoking." Shadow said to Qynna.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus Character Portrait: Morgan Aberlard
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#, as written by Byte
Image

“Compa...”

And so, a series of loud crashes and tables, chairs and anything else not nailed to the friggin' floor flying through the air disrupted the peaceful meeting.

“-ny.”

Timing, Mercy thought as she let out a muffled groan. How she regretted leaving her safe zone today now.

Within minutes- No, seconds, she had arrived. The strongwoman, the ex-Wicked Aini. Shit! She didn't recall her being that ugly! Then again, it had been about... forever. “Oh? It still remembers my name.” Mercy retorted disinterestedly at the sound of her not birth name being uttered.

As per usual, Cain did his thing. The man always did prioritize the safety of others, especially newbies. Which was perhaps a logical course of action. Nobody in the right mind would willingly tumble with Aini, lest they end up with broken bones if not worse. Even Mercy had to acknowledge that fact, despite thinking Aini was even less than dog shit littering a nice meadow.

She sat, calmly, arms folded as she did not even bother to lift her head and acknowledge that 'it' was here. Her ruby eyes just kept fixed on Morgan. Mercy hoped to God that he had some incredible plan to run the fuck away, and, if not, he'd only need to say the word.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asteria Leigh Character Portrait: Shadow E. Loveheart Character Portrait: Mercy Character Portrait: Joe/Seph Broliny Character Portrait: Qynna Ravenhowe Character Portrait: Cain Van Slaeghthaus
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Mei



Rolling around in bed Mei's eyes snapped open and she stared up at her ceiling. Rubbing her eyes she glanced at her clock 2:35 rolling her eyes she curled up in her bed and went back to sleep. Soon enough she felt someone shaking her. Groaning she tried to roll around in hopes of swatting away the arms that were shaking her awake but she found she was unable to.

In that moment Mei began to panic. Green eyes snapping open, they made eye contact with equally green ones. Her eyes widened in surprise as her body twisted at an awkward angle to get out of his grip. In doing so he let go of her and she fell to the floor. Letting out a yelp she sat up rubbing her shoulder. Looking up at Joseph she glared at him, "Thanks a lot idiot. Why in god’s name did you do that for? Where are we anyway?"

Slowly getting up Mei brushed herself off. Looking around she took a step back a scowl on her face. " Joseph why are we at the mall? Wait did you really bring me to the recruit meeting! In my pajama's! You couldn't wait until I got up." Rubbing her arms, Mei pulled at her nightgown and went to the guardrail to see what was going on. Looking down Mei hadn’t realized the large commotion that was going down below. A lot of people were running away from the food court and she could see some of the Wicked members. But it wasn't just Wicked members there were faces she didn't recognize.

Mei could see Cain doing something and all the new faces stood behind him. Frowning Mei leaned over the guardrail and saw something or rather someone approaching the Wicked and the new recruits. "No way. It's Aini!" a small smile crept onto her lips at the sight of her old friend. In her excitement Mei began to run towards the group but then stopped once she reached the top of the stairs. Looking over at Joseph she beckoned him over, “Hey are you coming or what?’ Not waiting for an answer Mei continued her decent.

She knew full well who and what Aini was capable of. Morgan warned her many times, when the monstrous woman was a Wicked, to stay away from her, that she was dangerous. Not that Mei listened to him. Mei was somewhat heartbroken when her friend left the group and she knew why. Aini had given into her urges as an Other but Mei still didn’t care she knew somewhere inside there was a good person.

Morgan


Morgan watched with a solemn face as the woman he once knew headed their way. She was quite large, Aini that is, and even now despite the distance between him and her she still seemed so massive compared to him. Gulping Morgan remembered all the times he would stand beside her or simply being in the same room as her. Every time he found just how small he was compared to his comrade but now Aini was no longer a comrade but an Other, an enemy for him and his Wickeds to deal with in the coming future.

He had hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon, or never at all if he could help it. But it seems fortune wasn’t on his side not any more anyways, It never was on your side. Pushing his glasses back up to their rightful place, Morgan watched as Cain did his own thing. Somehow despite the oncoming chaos Morgan felt a calm befall him. All he could do was watch as Cain began to offer up his blood to one of his cards. As the inky substance before him began to take shape Morgan realized it was the cat familiar Ches. “Hmmp you’d think i would have received a bit better soldier. But I guess you’ll have to do eh Ches? Don’t worry I won’t have you do anything to extraneous.” he said jokingly to the gloomy cat.

He looked up at his old friend, nodding his understanding to his concern, “Now when have I not been careful eh? I got death right in the eyes remember” he replied in an equally quiet whisper. Morgan’s attention then drifted over to the new recruits, he was somewhat curious as to how they were handling the situation and from the looks of it they were doing alright. He did raise a brow upon hearing Asteria’s request. A request even Morgan found relatively odd, “Now what in the world would make me want to knock you out? Hmm we have a lot to discuss when we get back to base.” His last few words were mainly directed towards the smoker and now he was truly curious as to where she got the frying pan from.

Looking back to Mercy, all Morgan could do was stare at her for a moment. A slight frown pulled the corners of his lips downwards before opening to show some teeth. Morgan took a deep breathe then released it. He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up a bit then took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. Morgan made a big show of it too, of how tired he was with dealing with these sort of problems. Blinking a couple times he made sure not to look at Mercy until the clear lenses of his glasses fell across his eyes. “Alright I guess now would be a good time to great our old friend.” Sniffing Morgan rubbed his nose, rolled shoulders while taking off his jacket. He threw the jacket in the direction of one of the recruits, the blonde one, “Here hold this. I wouldn’t advise trying to be all heroic or anything sweetheart. It’s bad enough I gotta deal with Aini, I’d rather not have to knock out such a pretty little lady.”

“Mercy take them away from here. I don’t want them getting in the way of this and Cain you too. Keep some distance from me but well you know how it goes. I’ll deal with Aini which shouldn’t be too hard so long as I don’t get to close right? And Ches just keep a look out, if something funny happens do your thing so long as it doesn’t involve someone losing an arm.” he gave them a sheepish look. Turning his attention back towards Aini Morgan began to walk towards he but took small steps in doing so. “What is it that you want Aini? You know you can’t just go about demolishing malls. You know very well what’ll happen if you do. But then again I guess that’s just in your nature am I right.”

Putting his hands up as a sign of peace, Morgan approached her when something caught his eye. A small figure was running down a nearby staircase and his eyes widened upon realizing who it was. “Mei?” faltering in his step, Morgan paused long enough to leave an opening.