"The World is Mine to Take..." The Iron Fist of Unova
As the fluorescent lights snapped to life, one row at a time, the room that had once thought to be empty revealed a single quivering Pokemon in the center. The Weavile was on its knees, shackled by its neck and its wrists to keep it in place, and it flinched away from the sudden harsh glow overhead. From the observation room overhead, Yusuke Inoshira’s eyes narrowed at the signs of weakness.
“You said your methods had improved,” he said, his voice like distant thunder, indicative of the storm brewing behind his hard stare.
“They have, Sir.” Jotaro Fumio’s grin was one of confidence. “This Weavile was recovered just this morning.”
Inoshira’s brow arched, but he said nothing as he continued to watch. A heavily armored operative had entered the room with a Haunter drifting at its side with its wide, crooked smile. The Trainer gave the command, and the Ghost-Type’s unusual red eyes began to shimmer as it hovered over the Weavile. Too exhausted to fight its influence, the Weavile was immediately subdued by the Hypnosis, and slumped forward with a whimper. The Trainer snapped a gloved finger and Haunter suddenly learned forward, energy crackling around its disembodied claws that grew in size and clamped around the prone Pokemon.
In a matter of seconds, the Weavile’s head snapped back and it cried out as the Nightmare took effect. It struggled and wailed, but Haunter kept a firm grasp on it, keeping its unnerving gaze locked onto its prey. The chains that bound the Weavile began to react as well, lighting up the very same angry red and snapping with black sparks. This struggle went on for only a few minutes before the Weavile suddenly went limp. Its eyes were wide and set like glass with unshed tears, but its gaze seemed to go past the Haunter.
“Dream Eater,” the Trainer’s voice crackled through the intercom.
Haunter’s terrifying grin widened slowly and a swirling black vortex could be seen forming in the back of its throat. It inhaled, and the dark energy that had been overtaking the Weavile’s body was drained away. The Pokemon shrieked, but only until Haunter let it go and dropped it back to the floor. It landed in an unceremonious heap, and did not stir until the Trainer hovering overhead unhooked the chain that held it by the throat and gave it a sharp tug.
“To your feet.”
Though it shook, the Weavile did so. It eyes had filmed over to the same shade of red that the Haunter’s held and its limbs hung slack at its sides. The Trainer’s fist tightened around the chain and more black shockwaves swept up along through the links and to the collar round the Pokemon’s neck. “Ice Beam!”
The Weavile reacted immediately, inhaling deep and unleashing a torrent of frozen air. The metal wall across the room became encased in ice in a matter of seconds.
Jotoro’s fingers were clenched around his clipboard, barely able to contain his glee. “There you have it, Sir,” he whispered, awestruck by his own masterpiece. “In just one session, you will have perfectly Trainable Pokemon to use at your disposal. The technology from that archaic group Snagem was the perfect starting point. They had no idea what they stumbled upon.” He scribbled a few notes as the Trainer unlatched the remaining shackles to lead the Weavile to the stockades. “Shadow Pokemon were just the beginning. With this, we don’t need the Silph Co. technology to tap into their instincts to obey. The contact from the Iron Gear activates the reaction just the same, and any resistance is taken by the Haunter’s influence.” He turned to Inoshira, pale eyes glimmering with rare exhilaration. “It’s a modern marvel, Sir. With this, any Trainer could capture anything-- even a Legendary Pokemon, and have it bend to their will.”
Inoshira’s lips curved as the lights to the Training floor began to shut down once again. So he had not been disappointed after all. “Good.”
There was no indication to do so, but Taz knocked on the wall lining the stairway as he came down. The lights were low in the main corridor, but he could hear and smell the fires burning coming from the expansion just beyond the doorway long before he saw it. Despite the thick heat that always claimed the basement, a chill rippled along his spine that made him scowl with how involuntary it was. He fucking hated this place.
He took a few steps in and froze as a low snarl rumbled from the shadows. He glanced to his left and found the pair of eyes shining through the dark like twin sniper sights, both fixed on him. Taz’s hands went up immediately.
“Easy, I live here,” he said, though a bead of sweat that swept along his brow did not feel convincing. “You know me, come on.”
“Knowing you doesn’t mean anything to him at this point.” The voice spilled from the room like fog, slowly filling the space. “You all should know better by now after what happened.”
“Yeah. Figures…” Taz edged towards the doorway, eyes locked with the beast on the floor. He hated how his hackles raised when the tawny wolf uncurled and sat up, head turning slowly to track his every move. “Call ‘im off.”
“Can’t do that,” came the reply. “I’m not the one he listens to.”
He slipped into the room, but as he grabbed blindly for the door handle to close off the line of sight, he found there was none. He clenched his fists as he turned to try and pick her face out in the dark. All he could see were rows of beakers and flasks, their technicolored contents set to a rolling boil by the bright blue flames underneath.
“How the hell are you even doin’ shit down here?” he hissed. There were too many smells clogging the air to tell anything apart, and the only way he could find her was by the way the light caught the slope of her cheekbones. “Jesus Christ…”
“What do you want?” Her piercing stare shifted to him and pinned him in place.
Even fidgeting felt like the wrong move, but still Taz tucked his hands into the lined pockets of his coat. “Crowe said you got a new shipment ready to go...”
“Crowe says…” A harsh whisper was spat back. “Is that what Crowe says?”
Unsure of how to answer, Taz chose not to. With the way that her eyes rolled it was much easier to see how they seemed to be made of red-rimmed glass. There was a quiet sloshing of liquid, then the clattering of an empty bottle and he listened as it rolled across the floor.
“You know what I say? I say shit’s not ready yet,” she went. “And since I fuckin’ make it, I’m pretty sure I’m the one making that call.”
“O...kay.” Taz took a step back, but became suddenly aware of the presence looming behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the wolf in the corner had gotten to his feet, and his ears were tucked back against his skull. “Hey, fucking relax, alright? It’s not my fault she’s pissed off!”
The snapping growl that answered him had his back against the wall, and the massive brute skulked into the room. With a lingering stare, he disappeared into the dark with only the click of his nails indicating his disinterest in starting a fight. For the moment, at least.
“What the hell am I ‘sposed to tell the rest of them then? We’re supposed to run tonight—”
His protest was prematurely punctuated with the shattering of glass so close to his face that the fibers still found his cheek. Taz scrambled aside, covering his head.
“You tell them that it’ll be ready when it’s goddamn fucking ready!”
The shriek seemed to rattle the walls, and that was enough. Taz turned tail and bolted for the stairs. Nothing was worth losing an eye to some temper tantrum, especially if he was still going to come up empty handed.
A handful of runners were waiting for him at the top of the stairs. When he realized they were staring at him, he straightened his collar and shouldered past them as he slammed the door behind him.
“Shit’s not ready…” he grumbled. “We’ll get it later.”
One of them scoffed as they fell into step behind him. “Dunno why we just don’t call her ‘Witch.’ Sounds like it’d fit better, don’t you think?”
E M B E R x C O B R A
The sobs came in sharp, struggling gasps for air. Ember’s fingers were buried into her scalp, her mouth gaped open to catch some kind of air, and she rocked from side to side. The world around her had yet to still; the walls were on the ceiling and every sound drilled into every atom of her entire body. She should have been numb. She knew the effects, she knew how long it would last. She knew everything about the tailored poison that she had shot into her veins.
A thick set of arms caught her, yanking her back down to Earth and keeping her there. She turned into Cobra’s bare chest and tried for another breath, but all she found was the space to scream. He rocked with her with a hand on the back of her head, but he didn’t say a word. He never did.
Why why why why? The questions persisted as she clamored for him suddenly, hands and nails scraping across his skin. He just held her tighter, pulled her closer, and kept swaying— from side to side to side.
It still hurt. But that was impossible. It wasn’t supposed to hurt anymore. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? But no matter what she took, no matter how many times she shot up, how many tabs she dissolved under her tongue, the gaping hole in her chest still festered and widened with every passing day.
It’s not supposed to hurt!
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken allowed. Ember’s teeth clamped onto Cobra’s shoulder before her jaw could lock, and pounded against the other with her fist. He took it. He always did. Minutes swam by and she was lost to the current, drowning and crying out. But help had long since arrived and done all that it could. It would take far too long for her to realize that she had already been pulled into the lifeboat, and the only thing she was fighting was herself.
And finally, it hit.
She opened her eyes and found herself where she usually did; curled up against Cobra’s chest. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted as he quietly snored. She stared at him, tried to make sense of him, before she slowly began to untangle herself from his arms. At least he had remembered to pull on his pants this time.
Her sweater was damp from the sweat and her knees were still shaking as she got to her feet. She leaned on the table top, chin cradled by her arms, as she watched the steadily bubbling of her most recent batch. It must have been hours since she last looked at it. She remembered it being clear when she’d pulled the tourniquet taut with her teeth, and now it was liquid gold.
She smirked. People were going to pay good money for it.
She didn’t realize she was staring until she wasn’t, and was instead looking towards Cobra who was starting to stir. She sat up slowly and gave him a smile.
“Well, good morning Sunshine,” she cooed, words still languid. She would be floating for a while longer yet. “Have a nice nap?”
Cobra grunted as he got to his feet and rolled his shoulder. “You bite,” he muttered as he went to carefully pick his way through the dark.
“You like it,” she purred back, and slumped back down against the table. “Do me a favor?” When he didn’t say no, she had her answer. “I’m expecting a package. Fresh syringes. You know the ones. Go and get it for me.”
Cobra lumbered past her, close enough that she was able to reach out and brush a hand against his arm as he did so. He glanced at her and she wiggled her fingers with a sweet wave. He merely rolled his eyes and left do as he was told. Like he always did.
Ember’s attention went back to the flame. It was a shame she didn’t need it anymore— she could have spent hours watching it. It had so many uses. There was so much it needed to do, but if it kept on the way that it was, it would ruin everything and lose its value. It could be too much.
She reached and turned the valve to shut it off. They were so much alike, it seemed.
She reached up and combed her fingers through her hair as she went to check the rest. It would be more than enough to get them through the next week. Crowe shouldn’t have anything but praise for her afterwards. The very idea had her grinning.
[attr="class","sDarkText"] Kaya had always been an ordinary girl who always managed to get found by extraordinary circumstances. She was never the most graceful child when existing on her own two feet, but given some music and a bit of choreography, she was a talented dancer. This led her to be chosen from her school to study dance in France with some of the most elite teachers in the entire world. A walking juxtaposition, people often teased that she just had her own sense of gravity and was having a hard time adjusting to Earth. It was through sheer determination that she excelled through her primary years and ended up in the advanced courses in the dance academy. Things were going well for her, until one fateful evening, her campus came under attack by a strange creature. [break][break] Everyone was in a panic, Kaya included. She had managed to escape to her own dorm and barricaded herself inside. But just as she thought she was safe, she came face to face with a small black cat. Convinced that it was hiding from the threat too, she kept it close until the attack moved to the dorms. Sure that she doomed to share the fate of her classmates, Kaya was prepared to surrender when suddenly there was a pink pen in her hand. And that is when everything changed.[break][break] Kaya has not been a Sailor Scout for long, but she certainly is gung-ho about it. She always wanted to see the world, and her duties protecting the world from the aliens that are now diverging upon it have taken her all over. As the de facto leader of the scouts, Kaya is often the loudest in the room and the first to charge headfirst into anything thrown at them. She isn't always the most rational, and is known to get a little hot-headed at times, but she everything in her power to lead her teammates to victory.
[attr="class","fa fa-plus"] Energetic
[attr="class","fa fa-minus"] Clumsy
[attr="class","fa fa-plus"] Creative
[attr="class","fa fa-minus"] Impulsive
[attr="class","fa fa-plus"] Passionate
[attr="class","fa fa-minus"] Indulgent
[attr="class","fa fa-plus"] Courageous
[attr="class","sDarkFooter"] She is the One Named Sailor Moon
As Charlotte paced the length of the wall, her hands buried in the pockets of her white jacket to combat the late night chill, she could not tear her eyes away from what was beyond the wall of the barrier. There was something; something just out of sight that was stirring her blood, making it impossible to sit still for even a moment. Even when she wasn’t treading a path into the carved wooden walkway, she was bouncing on the tips of her toes, rapping her knuckles against one of the posts. It was taking everything in her not to vault over the side and start running.
But towards what was the lingering question that stopped her. And the undeniable fact that a fall like that would break every bone in her body...
It wasn’t in her to be restricted like this. She was used to being out in the field, leading the charge Monitoring the perimeter as what she did best. It was her idea in the first place when Pasadilla was still coming together. But patrolling was not a Captain’s role. She was struggling with the new position, glad to be recognized for her efforts but stifled by what it meant. It had been her endeavor to do more for the Rangers, to be more.
Sentry duty had not been what she had in mind.
And what was worse, they sent Sly of all people. Sly, who could barely keep her eyes open as she was being given her marching orders. It boiled her blood; it should be her out there walking the path, ensuring the safety of the Resistance-- not some rookie from the clinic.
There was a low rumble behind her, and she turned to see that Blue, her first partner and most trusted companion, was watching her intently as he always had. When she sighed and looked away, his heavy tail thudded against the floor.
“I know,” she hissed, throwing her hands up. “You want me to calm down. I heard you.” She kept stomping along anyway. “But you don’t get it. Every time something like this happens, where we send someone out into the field who has no business being there, things happen. You remember when we sent Bridgette?” She was mostly talking to herself, knowing that Blue couldn’t really respond, but the lid had been blown from her temper with such minor provocation. “She ran into 3 Trainers on her own-- three! If she hadn’t been with a Pokemon that knew Teleport, she would have been captured or worse!”
Blue grumbled again, nodding politely. He knew when to listen, and she could not be more thankful for it.
“I don’t understand why promoting me means I have to stay here. I got promoted for the things we did out there!” She gestured over the wall.
“Because Captains need to be on call for emergencies,” came another voice.
Blue was on his feet, jaws opened with a snarl, but Lottie held out a hand as she recognized the newcomer.
“What are you doing up here, Tess?” she sighed, brushing some hair behind her ear. “You know how Blue feels about other people on his post.”
The pink-haired man was wearing his lab coat, as he always was, and carrying an Egg close to his chest. There were circles under his eyes and he had a harried air about him as he finished climbing the stairs.
“You were shouting,” he said, his tone dry and flat. “I came to make sure you knew that being loud isn’t going to get you out of your shift.” He leaned against a post as he dug a hand into his pocket. He produced a Sitirus berry and tossed it across the way. “Here. Down, boy.”
Blue snapped up the offering and quieted, but he still glared as his chewed. Lottie went to her Pokemon’s side to give him a pat, but her expression was very much the same.
“I know that.” She looked back over the wall. “That doesn’t change anything.”
“Captains have to be available for whatever happens here and out there.” Tess sighed as he bounced the bright red egg and continued to walk. “They’re trusting you to be ready for anything. You can’t help someone here if you’re out in the field.”
“I could--” Lottie began, but she knew her protests were empty. “Just… not as fast as I could from here.”
“Mm. She learns.” Tess moved to look out at the seemingly endless treetops ahead. “And it’ll be easier to send you out because you know this forest better than almost anyone else.”
The barrier had been built using the resources around them. The trees through tall and thick, nestling close together to create a dark and dense forest. It had once been heavily populated with Pokemon, but Wild Pokemon had become much better at hiding once the mass poaching began. Pasadilla’s fortress walls stood firm, constantly being monitored and reinforced by their experienced architects who maintained it. They had to, to protect the civilization and the cause that thrived inside.
Lottie came to stand beside him, leaning against the post. “...You heard, didn’t you? About the explosion in Castelia,” she murmured. “It’s all anyone can talk about.”
“Serves the bastards right,” Tess replied. “The word is power’s out across the region. Whatever ‘accident’ they had will set them back. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Lottie wasn’t so sure. It had been a strategic move to leave the Trainers be for some time. After their last big clash with them in Nimbasa, it had taken far too long to lose them and get back to Pasadilla. A lot of good people and Pokemon were hurt in that fight, a few never made it back. They needed to regroup. But there was no doubt in Lottie’s mind that the Rangers would be blamed for the attack. They couldn’t afford to be hunted. There was only so much that they could do to keep them away from Pasadilla, and if they were found out--
Feedback came from the radio on the ground next to Blue. Both Lottie and Tess looked back towards it as Sly’s voice crackled from the other end. They shared a glance before Tess shrugged.
“We’ll find someone to cover. Go on, Captain.”
Lottie didn’t need to be told twice. “Let’s go, Blue!” She was off and running in an instant with the Feraligatr on her heels. In a matter of minutes, they had gotten onto the back of Papyrus, who had been laying near the gates, and were airborne, heading for the Eastern Quadrant.
Lodara has short brown hair, still growing after being cut short for several years. His thin body is in recovery from wasting away; he is getting better, but evidence of his battle to survive can be seen in the hollowness around his eyes and the sharp angles of his face. His eyes were once a much more vibrant blue, his skin once held a lively glow. Though he is a shell of what he once was before his wings were taken from him, he has finally found his resolve to return to who he had once been.
His wings are made of a special alloy that can be bent and shape like a natural Celestial wing. They are pale gold with circuits in a myriad of colors running through them. The sensors are connected along his spine, into his back, and coordinate with an implant that was connected to his temple.
Lodara was a troubled child. Born to an overwhelmed mother, he was the youngest of 5 children; 3 brothers and an older sister. Their mother was mentally ill, but tried her hardest to take care of them, but this often left them alone. His eldest brother became the caretaker of the family in her absence, and was the first to notice that Lodara wasn’t quite right. He would murmur to himself, was easy to startle, and had erratic behavior that would lead people to believe that he was just trouble.
But just because he was mentally ill did not make him a bad person. Lodara was a passionate lover of music and adventure. The world around him was vast and beautiful, and all he wanted was to see more of it. But there was always something in him; something that scared him. His intrusive thoughts worsened as he got older, his impulsive behavior became more and more uncontrollable. His emotional distress would come to a boiling point when he turned 12, and got into a terrible bloody fight with a student at school who wouldn’t leave him be.
His mother said she could not handle it. She surrendered him to the state, though his eldest brother protested fiercely. Lodara was sent to a juvenile correctional facility, where he was put in the psychological ward. His case worker, Freida Welsey, became attached to him, feeling sorry for him and his story. She made sure that he got the help that he needed, counseled him and helped him. With years under her watchful eye, Lodara began to finally feel “normal.”
But once he aged out of being a ward of the state, he was given the choice of going to a halfway house and eventually being reintroduced into society, or another facility. Freida convinced him that he could one day live on his own, so he opted to try. While in the halfway house, he was discovered by one of his siblings, who was an employee there, and she immediately sought to bring him home. With his treatment completed, he was able to go to live with his sister.
For a while, he did alright. He took his medication, he went to therapy, and he continued his hobby of writing music. But his insurance changed as the rest of the world did, and wouldn’t cover the cost of his treatment. By the age of 27, neither he nor his family could afford to keep him medicated and his symptoms returned and worsened.
Lodara couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t be a burden to his family, couldn’t turn another family member against him. He found a bridge one night and his mind told him to see if he could cross it while walking on the railing. He found that he could. But as he was crossing the street to try the other side, he didn’t see the oncoming car. He was killed instantly.
And the voices were suddenly gone.
Lodara was reborn as an angel. He was given his true name, and brought from the river to live among the other blessed souls. For a while, it was fine, but something in him felt… empty. He found no purpose in protecting humans. He did not seek to heal the wounded. The battlefield was the only calling he could answer as a result. He fought the demons, but felt no conviction behind it. He was defending the Heavens, but defending them from what?
He went to seek answers in Purgatory. It is there that he learned the plight of the Gray Celestials-- angels and demons who were being locked away, left to rot and decay for being unable to choose sides. He saw himself in them and realized that he too was a Gray, but had not yet been discovered. An unfamiliar feeling took him; fear. He did not want to end up like the ones that he saw. He fled to Earth.
He lived among the humans for years, relearning what it was like to be mortal. He found beauty in their simple complexity. He found peace in knowing that he did not have to choose to fight for a cause that meant nothing to him. But as time passed, however slowly, he realized that other Grays like him could do the same.
After years of hiding, he went back to Purgatory. He had every intention of setting them free and leading them back to hide on Earth. But it was easier said than done. Death and his servants had been tasked in keeping the Grays in Purgatory. He had to find a way to save the ones who could be saved, and release the ones who couldn’t. Those whose minds had decayed beyond repair were mercifully sent back to the mortal realm. Those who could think to were given the option to run. Lodara hadn’t been aware of it at the time, but he had begun his own war.
Steadily, he gained a following. Other Grays who wanted to escape and help others escape aided him in neutralizing Death’s servants and freeing the captive Grays. But when the operation gained too much success, Death himself became involved. Knowing they could not stop the horseman, Lodara and his group finally fled back to Earth. There, they spent years growing together, relearning the ways of the world, and adapting to it. They became well versed in the technologies that advances had afforded them. They became smarter, better equipped. They trained and they worked and they schemed. They were going to release the Grays.
But a guardian angel learned of their existence. They reported back to the Heavenly Forces, and an attack was launched against the Earthbound Grays. Some of them were killed, while others were barely able to escape with their lives. Lodara’s wings were stripped from him in the battle by one of Heaven’s most powerful soldiers, but before the final blow could be dealt, one of the other Grays was able to pull him away in time.
Without his wings, Lodara was unable to return to Purgatory. His mental state deteriorated during his recovery, but his comrade refused to let him die. They needed him-- he was their leader. Using the technology they had come to know and depend on, Lodara was given mechanical wings to replace the ones that he lost. They are a working development, but if nothing else, he will be able to fly again. But this fix was not all-healing. The scars from the battle ran deep through Lodara, and his recovery into becoming the leader he once was still has a long way to go.
Tamu is used to being the center of attention. As his gift developed, he became exceedingly athletic and became dedicated to honing his skills, so it made him very popular among his peers. He is competitive, outspoken, and generally charming. But his extroverted behavior comes with a short and explosive temper. He tends to act more impulsively, with a "leap before you look" attitude, that could easily land him in trouble. His saving grace is that he still manages to be an excellent team player and self-aware, so he at least knows when he's being obnoxious or brash.
Tamu was born to a mixed race family with two gifted parents. His mother was touring the world for work and fell in love with his father when she spent some time in South Africa. Once she found out she was pregnant, she returned home to raise him properly, and his father began the process of getting his Visa. They were married by the time he was four and they were dedicated to raising their son to be nothing short of extraordinary.
His father was a renowned Champion back home, protecting the innocent and thwarting the wicked, but he found it harder to find work in Japan. As such, he turned to vigilantism. Tamu idolized his father, and aspired to be like him some day. His father had a similar Gift, and utilized it in a way that Tamu could only dream. One day, he declared that he would join his father's side and work as a vigilante, but his father sat him down and made sure he understood the importance of Peacekeepers. He put a new idea in his head; to go to the premiere Gifted Academy and become the #1 Peacekeeper in all of Japan. It was an attractive goal, and since Tamu always wanted to make his father proud, he agreed.
Tamu focused on his athletics and studies to be able to qualify to attend Wanatabe Academy, and was accepted in the Alpha Class his first try. He now aspires to have his own legion of Peacekeepers, and eventually go global.
Animus gives the owner the attributes and abilities of the animal that has been twisted into their DNA! Tamu has the strength, speed, and flexibility of an apex predator. His claws on his fingers and toes are retractable, his muscles are ridiculously sturdy, and his skin his painted with stylish spots. Night Vision and heightened senses are also perks of this particular Gift.
Age: 19 years old Pronouns: She/Her Species: White Witch Sexuality: Pansexual Occupation: Student/Bartender Star Sign: Virgo District of Residence: Casticor University
Mari is the definition of struggling college student. Though she does her best to keep an upbeat attitude, the truth of the matter is that things have not been easy for her since she set out on her own. She is easily frustrated and often lacks self-confidence when things don't as she's carefully planned them. Nevertheless, she remains persistent and ambitious as she strives towards her goal of surviving Casticor University.
Abilities: Physical Magic: Mari can manipulate physical objects with magic. The ease of her efforts largely depend on the size and her own stamina. Elemental Inclination: Mari has been studying flora magic (but is admittedly not very good at it) Familiar Tongue: Mari can communicate with magically inclined animals
Age: 18 years old Pronouns: She/Her Species: Faun (Deer Shape-Shifter) Sexuality: Homosexual Occupation: Student/Barista Star Sign: Libra District of Residence: Northern Suburbs
Simone is as sweet as they come. With her bubbly personality, it is an absolute surprise to no one to find out that she is a full-time barista at the local coffee shop. She is almost painfully optimistic, which can lead people to believe that she is naive. But she's got a good head on her shoulders and an empathetic ear. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and is not shy about the things she is most passionate about. However, one would not suspect one of those passions to be modern medicine.
Abilities Wild Shape: Simone can take the full shape of a white-tailed deer Spring Magic: Simone has an inclination towards healing and revitalizing magic Green Thumb: Simone's family is blessed with flora magic inclinations
Relationships: Lillianne || HUGE Fan of her Work Lyra || Very good friends, despite working for her Jackson || Practically soulmates, constantly scheming together
Age: "Wouldn't you like to know?" Pronouns: She/Her Species: Faerie Sexuality: Asexual Occupation: Entrepreneur Star Sign: Scorpio District of Residence: Downtown
Phaedra is a well known saleswoman who is constantly marketing her ideas to the masses. With her jubilant disposition and eccentric state of dress, it is hard to believe that she is one of the top acquisition specialists for Oni Enterprises. As most Fae tend to be, she is purposefully secretive and can be terribly mischievous, but her schemes are usually harmless. ...Usually.
Abilities: Prism Power: Phaedra has an inclination to light based magics, and is able to conjure things using light Colorful Transformation: Using light magic, Phaedra can alter the color of most objects temporarily Faerie Wings: Phaedra has golden wings that she can hide at will and use for flight.
Hey, party people! Welcome to Kitti's Cafe! Pull up a seat and stay a while!
I get really inspired by the projects that I'm involved in, and I really enjoy writing one-offs based on the stories, furthering character development and applying hypothetical situations that may not always apply IC. Even though I usually write them for a specific audience (usually my 1x1 partner lol) I try to make them consumable for a general audience to pick up and read and gauge interest! If you have a sec, feel free to check out my work in Shorts By Kitti to see what I'm up to!
What I'm Looking For: -I usually write these in an impassioned, feverish state so I can have grammatical errors that don't always get the red squiggle. If I'm missing a word, please tell me! (I'm terrible about reading my own stuff until like, a week later...) -I just like to hear what people like, so if you liked something, please tell me. Your validation fuels me! -Was there something I could have expanded on? Something I could have clarified? Did I use a word wrong? I dunno. Just tell me how I can improve if you think I can. While I appreciate a good gush, I also am not 100% Writing Deity, and am always looking to see how I can do better. Be honest with me and give me suggestions. I'm asking for it. Lay it on me, bruh.
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Link to Work: Comments: Suggestions (if applicable): Tag: @kiticarus
Thank you in advance for taking the time to read my junk! <3 I'll quote you in a response if I wanna chat about your critiques! You're the best! *sparklesparkle*
With the discovery of parahumans, any being holds a modicum of magic, new city lines have been drawn in order to allow people to simply exist as they are. The flagship city located in Southern California near the coast, was renamed Casticor for its founder and Mayor, Jasper A. Casticor. Here, any manner of being is able to live freely without having to hide their paranormal identities. Established in the early 1900s, Casticor and similar areas have developed a culture all their own. Schools and universities were created to teach young parahumans how to hone their skills and launch them into careers. Businesses are owned and operated by people of all kinds. It is a rapidly growing city where quite literally anything is possible.
When a rival appears to destroy fashion influencer Lilianne's reputation, war is declared. With the help of the Le Roux Sisters and a devoted fan, Lilianne will take this fight to the runway. But what is her rival's motive? Is it jealousy, or something more sinister?