[RP] Modern Mythology

[Winter]

~Plot~
What if everything you knew wasn’t true?

What if vampires and werewolves and faeries and almost every other mythological creature you were told weren’t real actually were? And what if they were living among you?

Well, they are real, and they are living among you. Except their existence is supposed to be a secret…the key word here is “supposed”. Not all creatures agree with the idea of being confined to secrecy, and believe that they should be able to roam the world as they truly are—that humans should know of their existence and fear them. Others disagree; fear on the humans’ part could only lead to more chaos and crusades against even the most harmless, even helpful supernatural creatures. Currently, secrecy of the mythological creatures is enforced by a handful of parties—special human groups like vampire and werewolf hunters, as well as groups among the mythological creatures themselves. With these groups working separately (and very rarely, together), both secrecy and a fragile peace have managed to exist for quite some time…

And then creatures began disappearing…and reappearing, murdered or mutated in some of the most grotesque ways. Every party imaginable began pointing fingers, and just like that, the peace among the groups shattered completely. Unsure of who to blame, some believe that the existence they have fought so hard to keep secret has been uncovered, others believe that the human groups are turning to mistreating the mythological creatures. Some cry for the discovery of those responsible for the deaths and mutations so that they can be eliminated and the secret of their existence kept intact while others call for the revealing of their existence to humankind in order to appeal for rights of their own.

Welcome to modern times, where mythological creature are real, and they have a problem. What happens is up to you.

~Rules~
All PXR rules apply, people...
1: For the love of RPs--NO GODMODDING!!!
2: No one's invincible, take a hit every once in awhile, more often than not.
3: For the sake of the RP--PLEASE be active, and if you can't be active, let me know!
4: Don't constantly make fun of RPers, if they make a mistake, kindly let them know, don't bite their heads off.
5: No bunnying without permission.
6: Please limit use of profanity.
7: Keep things PG-13. (Both romance and violence)
8: Try to have decent spelling and grammar, I can understand typos, but not anything really bad.


Accepted
Winter- Aileena Crowfeather, Laura Blackwood, Reine Gisela, Straton Sinclair, Skylar Boschtallen, and Damien Wright
Socratic Sarcasm- Micheal Mikulak and Mira
Haybalebarn- Tiel, Celeste, and Rise
Sabi- Ira Gaylen
Cobalt-Dalton, Flint, and Azrael *has Chandler and Soren on hold
Velocity- Manus Flynn, Cathleen Flynn, Heracles, and Achilles
ChibiStar- Ajax Vale, Ashfinger, Corvina Raenwood, and Lyceina Astaravkiulaet

Reserved
Cobalt-Alena

[Winter]

OOC: Fwee~! Mass repost time!

Aileena Crowfeather
Warlock; Pro-Secrecy
Somewhere in New York, USA
ARPers: None right now
"Watch your tailfeathers, my hatchling," Aileena regarded the crow before her and nodded. She was centuries old and her father still called her his hatchling when he got nervous...or as close to nervous as demons got. She thought it had something to do with her mother--he had been helpless to defend the woman who had raised their daughter because he remained absent from their lives, and she had died because of it. What Aileena had seen of her father and remembered of him suggested she looked a lot like the woman who had raised her until her daughter's wings had been discovered. If he felt anything towards the woman, guilt would be a powerful motive, or maybe it was just the fact he had a daughter--something that was part him. She wondered if he was trying to make up for it by trying to keep his immortal, combat trained, warlock daughter safe from every danger he heard about...though she often heard of the dangers first, and was well-prepared to handle them.

"I always do, father. I always do," she replied softly, raking a hand through a river of crimson hair. "Mine and those of every other I possibly can. You know that."

"But I am not worried about the others, Aileena. I am worried about you." She really wished he weren't so stubborn and that he would remove himself from her crow's mind. Whenever her father used Alois for a mouthpiece, the crow could do nothing with his own body, and she knew it wore him down. The warlock had a feeling she would be feeding her feathered companion extra and sharing her own energy with him to replace what her father took while badgering her about watching her back and making sure she could protect herself.

"I know, father, and I will be perfectly fine. There is no need for you to worry so much. On the other hand, I am starting to worry about Alois. You're putting a huge strain on him with all these calls and he's not a demon crow like those of your flock, father. He isn't as durable. As you keep watch over the well-being of your flock, I wish to keep watch of the well-being of the only member of mine." She knew it wasn't the kindest tactic, but at the same time she knew there wasn't much else she could do to get her father to let the subject, and therefore her crow, go. A sigh rattled from the bird's beak.

"You are a good hatchling and flock leader, Aileena. I urge you again to watch your tailfeathers, dear one, but I will leave you now. When I must contact you next, I will send one of my flock to you so that I do not harm your Alois again. Stay safe until we speak next." Aileena smiled slightly and reached out to stroke her crow's feathers.

"I will father, and I appreciate your understanding of my concern for Alois. You stay safe as well," the warlock woman replied, and suddenly it was as if her father's control over the bird under her fingers vanished. Alois stumbled forward a moment before Aileena slipped a hand under him and shifted her crow into the crook of her arm.

"Food, Leena?" the bird asked her after a few moments. Aileena laughed as she lifted her other hand, which had taken on a soft green glow, and pressed it to the bird's side.

"Give me a moment, and I'll feed you, goofball," Aileena muttered, moving towards the counter, hand still glowing. "Let me give you some strength back, first." The crow seemed to be okay with this idea, as he didn't object. As she reached the countertop, the glow around her hand faded and she gently placed her feathered friend on the counter. Alois watched his warlock companion as she opened a jar and pulled out a third-cup scoop of...well, there were a lot of things in it since Aileena mixed his food herself, and had since he'd decided to take up residence with her a few years ago. As Alois turned his attention to food, Aileena's turned to other matters--mainly the ones her father had been worried about. The murders were unsettling, to both the minds of those who knew of them and to the fragile balance between the world of the creatures of myth and the blissfully ignorant world of humans.

Skylar Boschtallen and Damien Wright
Demi Vampire and Guardian; Pro-Secrecy
Somewhere in the New York
ARPers: None right now
She sat hunched in on herself, on arm around her legs, the other holding a phone to her ear...though one might not realize she was a girl at first, with her short, spiked hair and thin frame. Next to her, on the side she wasn't holding up the phone to, lounged a young man who was similarly dressed to her in jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. He looked to be half-asleep, however he was observing, always observing, and trying not to hear the whole phone conversation through Sky's mind. He was doing a bad job of succeeding.

On the other end of the phone, a man's voice chuckled. "They have a human girl dating their son, and she and her brothers live with them, there will be no trouble, Sky," he said, causing the girl to snort.

"Until others find out who I'm staying with," Sky murmured in reply. "Then it'll get nasty all over again." Damien reached up to place a hand on Sky's shoulder in a gesture of comfort as her mind whirled with images of the attacks she had only barely survived while living with her father. Her father chuckled again.

"The girl and her brothers are Blackwoods," he seemed to ignore the abrupt choking sound his daughter made, or maybe he didn't notice it. Damien, on the other hand, tightened his grip on her shoulder as Sky recognized the name. "I'm sure things will be significantly safer there--all three have been proven capable fighters and loyal to the family."

"Oh I'm sure the children of Hunters are very loyal to the family!" Sky hissed, barely managing to stay quiet even though their car was empty. They had decided to travel when fewer people would be around to see them, made things easier. "Loyal until they put a knife in my back!"

"I doubt that, besides, you should be able to catch any problems before they become problems now, Sky. Better than worrying about the few people under one roof than few in millions you may or may not catch in time. Caitie and I are worried." The demi-Vampire's heart twisted in her ribcage; her father had mentioned her mother. She missed her mother most of anything else she had missed since practically being forced into exile for her genetics.

"How is mom?" she asked, trying to calm herself down, though Damien was still tense beside her.

"She's fine, dear. Fine, though worried to death about you," her father replied softly. "She's really taken to Danny well, and he's now convinced you got the better end of things until I..." his voice trailed off as the train slowed down and announced that the last stop was coming up. "Best wishes, Sky. I will talk to you, later." Rather abruptly, there was a click and the line disconnected. Sky blinked in surprise before sighing and wedging the phone in her pocket. She couldn't mind-read over phones, but it was pretty obvious what he had been going to say--until I messed everything up.

"I know you're nervous, but maybe they really are nice? We can always hope, can't we?" Damien asked, picking up a black backpack at his feet. Sky muttered something unintelligible in reply as the train finally stopped. As they stepped out, Sky noticed a single man standing on he platform.

...just like they described her... The words floated through her mind softly, carrying no hint of malintent, but a bit of curiosity. As she and Damien approached, a smile lit up the man's face that made her think of her half-brother. "Sky and Damien?" he asked, voice still curious, maybe even a bit amused. Both stopped stiffly, causing him to chuckle. "My name is Winter Forrester, I was sent to make sure you two made it to my family's home safely," he offered rather cheerfully, brushing a hand through the tangle of nearly white hair atop his head. Sky received several more thoughts from him--something about Laura going to have a cow, then wondering if whoever Laura was had finally made it home, followed quickly by a laughing thought about how he felt sorry for everyone else in the house until she did. Of everything she did hear, revulsion and hate were not present in any of it.

Seems safe enough, Damien's thoughts announced. Sky gave him a slight nod before she nodded to Winter. "Nice to see courtesy is still important to some people," she muttered sarcastically, which got a soft laugh from their greeter. "You lead the way."

Laura Blackwood
Vampire Hunter; Pro-Secrecy
Somewhere in the New York
ARPers: None right now
Laura Blackwood stopped short at the corner turning onto the street she now lived on. Her patrol had gone long tonight thanks to a group of Vampires trying to corner and torment a pair of werewolves who hadn't been very keen on her help, and she wanted to get home as quickly as possible, however it seemed that would have to wait a few moments. Waiting for her was a young girl with straight hair that fell to her shoulders and was the color of butter--it was amazing how much Été looked like her brother. The two oldest siblings of the Forrester family looked slightly different than the younger two; Automne's hair was a darker, more brown color, and Winter's was more pale. Été and her brother, Haru, looked like they could have been twins if there wasn't such a glaringly obvous age difference between them. "Laura!" her boyfriend's little sister greeted her by practically leaping into her arms so quickly that Laura had to fight to remain standing for a moment.

"Été, what are you doing out here so late? And alone? What was everyone thinking?" she asked in confusion.

"They said you'd be unhappy, and it helps to have something cute nearby to calm you down." For being nine, the little vampire was rather smart and mature...well, in most areas.

"Why would I be unhappy? Did something happen? Is everyone okay?" Laura questioned, however she wasn't answered by the little girl.

"Everyone is fine, we just have some houseguests that you might...well...be unhappy about." Her twin brother seemed to appear out of thin air. "The parents agreed before telling any of us and kept their coming a secret until tonight. It wasn't the best idea, considering they should know how you are by now, but they said they couldn't tell Niccholi no." Laura frowned, as she only knew of one Niccholi, and he was rather infamous at the moment for--

"Oh no. The mother or the daughter?" Laura groaned, not that it really mattered. It still meant she was going to be on her toes for the duration of the time the houseguests were going to be staying.

"The daughter and her human guard. Solomon's been evicted for the moment to remove that danger from the equation, and everyone else is supposed to be on high alert...we all kind of got drafted. They pulled Wes from the kitchen tonight and Shirley is about ready to have a panic attack--no one but Haru can understand half the words coming out of her mouth at any given time and she makes the daughter nervous." A look of nervousness flitted across Angelo Blackwood's face. "Living with a pair of telepaths is going to be...interesting."

Laura laughed in reply. "That's one way to put it. Hopefully it will prove more useful than annoying," she told him as Été's nose brushed her shoulder, then the side of her neck. "What do you think you're doing, young lady?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow as her boyfriend's sister lifted her head again.

"Making sure you weren't hurt." Laura groaned at the little vampire's mimicking her older brother's protective actions.

"Lau--"

"I know, I know, It's better to have people who care about me than people who don't," she told him before starting to walk towards the house with Été still in her arms.

"Things are better now that we're living with people who actually care whether or not we're hurt. Don't act annoyed--you know you're really grateful ," Angelo replied, quickly following his sister down the street and up the stairs to the enormous house they called home. Before Laura or Angelo could say more or touch one of the doorknobs, the double front doors practically flew open.

"Finally!" A male voice exclaimed, and the trio found themselves looking into frustrated glacial eyes framed by messy white-blond hair. The second-oldest of the Forrester sons was an imposing presence at times when his patience wore thin or out completely with his athletic build, expressive face, and inhuman strength, and it had seemed his patience had been worn out completely as he let go of one of the doors to yank Laura inside with a single large hand to her shoulder. "There, she's home! We don't need to go out and rescue her from anything, you can stop trying to wear a track in the hardwood now!" he shouted over his shoulder, likely back to wherever his younger brother was.

"Hi, Winter. Nice to see you, too," Laura greeted the vampire at normal volume. In reply, he looked back at her and patted the shoulder he had grabbed to pull her inside.

"Sorry, Sunshine, he's been more unbearable than usual, and tossing his hysteric maid into the equation, as well as a house on high alert, and I'm ready to go break open your equipment locker to get a stake or torch." Winter punctuated his reply with a tired smile, but Été gasped, flinging herself from Laura's arms to cling to her older brother.

"You wouldn't!" she growled accusingly, only for her brother to laugh.

"I wouldn't," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean I can't entertain the idea for personal enjoyment. I certainly don't want to get on Sunshine's bad side for actually doing it--she'd probably stake me faster than you could say, well, stake." Été didn't seem to like the joke, cringing at both of his uses of 'stake'.

"Winter, please stop talking about staking in front of the nine year-old, or I might just consider having a nice, long discussion with you later. One that involves a lighter." That Angelo wasn't as deadly as his sister was a fact--he didn't have years of hunting experience under his belt--however he didn't need to be deadly to make a simple threat sound like a promise. Laura frowned and opened her mouth to reply, however that was when Haru appeared out of what seemed to be nowhere, pulling Laura into his arms for a hug.

"You're late," he said softly, though the words held nothing but relief.

"Something came up, my patrol just ran a little long...you know your kind and werewolves have most ridiculous feud going on, right?" When Haru's eyes widened and he sniffed the air, Laura rolled her eyes. Seeming to smell something the others hadn't, her boyfriend immediately reached for her jacket zipper, jerking it down once he had ahold of it, and Laura stepped back. "Hey now, where are your manners? Why don't you ask like your sister did rather than try to rip off my clothes in the entryway? I didn't get hurt, there was no blood exchange, I'm fine. Now what is all this I've heard about houseguests?" she asked. Haru frowned, but his older brother's face lit up in reply, not seeming to be bothered at all by the werewolf story.

"You mean Skylar Boschtallen and Damien Wright? They seem to be just as unsure about us at present as we are of them. Household security has been stepped up to make sure no one was on their trail and comes barging in on us for now, not sure how long it will be stepped up, but it will be at least a week, at most it will be for the duration of their stay. Mom and dad have already made it clear that if they so choose to go out, they go with someone, likely you, and that they aren't supposed to bring more attention to themselves than they do already. Damien is like her walking food supply, and though she needs less than us, they've been informed that if they plan to keep to that method of feeding, it needs to be done outside of the house, even with Soloman out." He gave Laura a friendly smile and patted her shoulder again. "Wes has already practically interrogated them, Sunshine, all you need to do is go up and introduce yourself while attached to Haru's arm so they'll settle down, seeing as you're the one with the fantastic track record," he offered cheerfully, as if he wasn't talking about the possible death of his family and his brother's girlfriend's rather famous previous career killing vampires on order. Laura found herself wondering (and not for the first time) if there was anything out there Winter couldn't put a cheerful spin on before she sighed and reached out to grab Haru's arm, sliding under it to tuck herself against his side. Once situated, she glanced down at her clothing and smiled--she doubted they'd be expecting someone with her "fantastic track record" to walk in wearing a black skirt and shirt with a burgundy and pink striped hoodie with pink shoes. Not when most Vampire Hunters had solid black wardrobes of skintight clothes and severe attitudes.

"Well, let's go clear up this situation. Time to go meet our new houseguests," she said.

"Have fun, they're upstairs in the meeting room," Winter offered. Haru allowed himself to be led off by Laura, who started immediately for the staircase, leaving the others behind to go meet the new “houseguests”.

Reine Gisela and Straton Sinclair
Yuki-onna and Demon hunter; Pro-secrecy
Somewhere in France
He solidly regretted having ever opened his mouth as he watched the shoot progress. How could he have been so stupid as to think his ironic suggestion of theme was funny? Reine moved fluidly as the cameraman suggested, skin set at half it's normal tone, causing the lights in the room to set it shining like ice, making Reine looking just as beautifully inhuman as she really was...and he hated it. He hated the woman and every single one of her kind; those that weren't like him, weren't human. She turned, and he saw her eyes again, set much like her skin at half their nearly silvery glory. This had been a very bad idea.

He glanced across the room to find Davide leaning against the opposite wall, hovering near the set, ready to grab his--their--charge at any moment if trouble should occur. The older man always seemed to be the one to stay closest to her, and Reine always left him in charge of the guards. It would have made sense if all her guards had been normal humans, but they weren't. Technically the Fae guard was the oldest, but he always looked like he was up to something--not that that wasn't typical of most Fae, they tended to do nothing but cause trouble, and with a name like "Ashfinger" he was often subject to raised eyebrows and people watching him to make sure he didn't pull put a lighter and set everything around him on fire. That aside, he was the one with the most combat experience, and he was probably the best armed for any situation, but with his past record... Okay, well maybe she did have a reason to leave the human in charge of them. Next to the man sat a large, white wolf that, as far as he knew, had been with her as long as she had been in the public eye. He had a cover story (much like most of Reine's life did) that he didn't care to memorize, but Straton knew better; in her file it had been listed that the wolf was her brother simply refusing to take human form. He kept an eye on Neige, but it wasn't really the brother he had to look out for--it was his sister, with her lovely smiles, charming words, and seemingly odd quirks to go with her freezing hands and inhuman beauty that he had to watch out for. The hunters didn't need another incident like the one that occurred with her mother, nor did they need anyone finding out that one of the biggest "lead by example" for secrecy and coexistence models for mythological creatures was far from human.

This was a "look both ways" kind of job; and it was the kind of job he really hated. Particularly when he had to watch Reine hang close to Davide. Sure, they weren't in any kind of relationship--the man was as professional as could be with the exception that he was one of the few people he'd noticed Reine would talk to in excess. She acted more human around the older guard than she needed to be--and in some ways she acted less so. It was her actions around Davide that put him most on edge...and he was already on a pretty big edge.

[Death's Spook]

Michael Mikulak and Mira
They really don't give a care
Their facility, Mount Mitchell, NC, US
ARPers: None

Mira discovered that, even if you have fae heritage, there are no real graceful ways to fall out of a hole in the fabric of reality.

It sounded overly dramatic, she supposed, when phrased that way, but the frosted pines of the evergreen forest were the perfect place for the Queen of Winter to throw her assassin into (Mira briefly wished that this was a figure of speech). According to the Queen Medb, the place had a reputation for being deadly.

And then when I ask her why she just smiles enigmatically and says nothing.

Mira decided that the best option would be to complete this God awful assignment and be done with it. The Sun's height in the sky suggested that it was sometime around noon, and since there were more likely to be people to ask questions farther south, Mira walked with the sun in her face. But only so much: the tall pines of the boreal forest did a good job of blocking the star's blinding light.

After a good while-Mira had long lost track of time, having spent a good amount of it in Faerie-she happened on a clearing with nothing more than a bony child in the middle. He was staring opposite the direction Mira came, and was drawing absently in the dirt with a stick. He was positively bony, and his slightly tan skin (despite the cold, the child was wearing only a pair of ill fitting jeans and baggy T shirt) was out of place in the cold.

The predatory, Unseelie part of Mira screamed at her to take such easy prey: to rip open his guts and feast on his intestines. It howled at the weakness of the potential quarry, noting how it looked like he was not long for the world anyway. It urged Mira to attack the boy, and not let up until he was ripped to slivers in her bare hands.

Mira almost rolled her eyes at this; it was so routine for her to quash this side of her, to discipline herself, that she could just turn her attention to it for a second and return to th-

And then Mira was fighting for her very self. Mental assault was something she trained against extensively, since the Queen did not want her favorite assassin to be turned against Winter, but she had never faced something like this. The attacker (and she wasn't even able to identify who it was) bombarded her with images of despair, of hopelessness, of the quiet, wearing terror that came from not knowing the fresh horrors you would be facing this time around. Mira found that she had to draw from the viscous power of the Unseelie Court in her merely to not succumb immediately to the onslaught, especially since it took her by such surprise. She tried to build a defense, but the mind attacking hers was like an ocean, crashing on hers in powerful waves of will. Mira realized that whoever this was, he or she was fighting to end the person Mira was and replace her mind with its own will.

Mira was, in some distant part of her mind, terrified. But she was too focused on not dying to be scared. She fought to lay every brick in the mental wall that would protect her (hopefully).

Wait, when did hopefully enter the equation?

Mira fought tooth and nail while searching for the person or thing attacking her. But the only thing in the area was the boy in the clearing.

The instant Mira thought that, the psychic attack on her intensified. Mira is many things, but stupid was never one of them, and she realized that it had to be the boy attacking her. The boy who she just dismissed as a threat.

Mira felt very stupid. But she had no time to lament, as the boy's mind was starting to worm its way into hers to subvert her will from the inside. Mira realized that the only real way she stood a chance of winning was if she was able to move the attack to a physical one.

So, she drew on the power of her Court as deeply as possible, and unleashed it.

[[Desolate Divine]]

(OOC: Pathetic post is pathetic, but I figured nobody will be in Italy, so I needed to get Azrael out. Well do posts for Flint, Dalton and possibly Alena tomorrow)

Azrael
Shinigami
Venice, Italy>Flying
Affected RPers
Azrael looked through the small notebook that usually remained in his pocket. His death diary. Every time he killed, he wrote down the date, the amount of time their death gave him, the reason for their death, and his current total life.

The most recent entry was three years ago. 2010. A pedophile, who dies of a stroke after spending 40 years in prison. He only had 40 years left in his life, so Azrael knew he had already done what he was destined to do. This made his total 125 years.

He sat in the park, by the stone memorial that nobody knew the origin of. Only he knew the true meaning. A memorial for Isabel, that he made when he first moved to Venice. He had visited it every day for the past 400 years. He knew this would be the last time for a while. He had to leave. Words of a winged demon were spreading around Venice, after it was seen flying through the sky, carrying a man, who it dropped, as the man fell to his death. Azrael spotted him around the memorial this time yesterday, seeing his cause of death.
"Shot by his wife in Self Defense"
Azrael figured that if she shot him, he musn't kill her, so killing him won't save her from death. As with every thought about killing him, Azrael saw the timer above his head fall faster and faster. He followed the man, and when they were alone in an alley, shouted to get his attention. The man threatened Azrael for following him, but froze in fear when Azrael became coated in darkness, and took on his Shinigami form. Azrael flew towards him and picked him up off the ground. He flew into the air as the man screamed, and when they were high enough, dropped the man to his death, giving him

Azrael picked up his bag that had his few possessions, and changed into his Shinigami form. He stretched his long black wings, and forced them down, as he ascended into the air. He wanted to come back to Isabel's memorial. But he knew it would take a while before the residents of Venice calmed down, after news of such a horror...

[ChibiStar]

(Time for copy and pasting...I'd write some more of my other characters but at the moment they really have nothing to do.)

Ashfinger
Pro-secrecy, Mawr Cattân
Somewhere in Europe
Affected RPer: Winter

Photo shoots. Always endless photo shoots, day in and day out. Of course Ash didn't expect anything different, given his current's charge's occupation but still, he thought there would be at least a little more excitement going on around here. Today was a pleasant change in way, playing heavy on the irony of a wintery Fae and of the fact that the humans had absolutely no idea of it, and Ash found himself grinning to himself more than once at the fun of it all. It was always so much fun to tease to humans, to dangle things right in front of their stupidly blind faces and then snatch it away right before they finally open their eyes and notice something. That was the game the Fae had been playing for centuries and they played it even now, even Reine, despite her fondness of humans and her ideas of them one day realizing who all of the Fae were. Of course that day was long off, especially when the humans still had their centuries-old prejudices against them... take the human guard on his right for example. Unlikable, hating anything Fae, and immediately judging of anyone and anything that so much as spent time around the Fae. He was always glaring at Ash as if expecting him to do something, like burn the whole place down just for giggles. His reputation probably didn't help since he was known as "unreliable" among the secret circle of hunters and whatever organizations there were, but they still welcomed him with open arms so that could say more than anything.

His golden eyes flickered to Straton, standing a few feet away from him, and his mouth curved into a wicked grin. It was the smile of a thief or prankster planning something behind veiled faced. As if sensing the stare, Straton immediately turned to him, alert and already bristling as if expecting a battle. "Why so tense, mortal?" Ash asked in a low voice so that only Straton could hear. "You look deliciously uncomfortable today, and tense to boot. You really need to loosen up some." He very obviously raked his eyes down Straton's form, as if savoring a future meal, and briefly contemplated licking his lips but decided that that would be way too much, too soon.

[[Desolate Divine]]

Azrael
Shinigami
Flying>New York
Affected RPers

After days of flying, Azrael landed, taking on his human form, as he walked from the roof of the building in New York to an elevator. He took the lift down to the ground floor lobby, where the receptionist gave him a puzzled look, since she never saw him walk in the building. Azrael walked out of the door, into the packed streets of the big city.

There were people everywhere, and Azrael felt strange, knowing when every single one of them was going to die, and how. He felt especially strange when he saw a businessmen on his phone walk past him towards the intersection. To everyone else, he was completely normal. To Azrael, there were words and numbers above his head.

"Walks onto the street and is hit by bus."

The numbers above his head were dropping rapidly, from wears, to minutes, until eventually they slowed down to normal speed.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

The man stepped out onto the road, chatting on his phone, and was hit by a bus.

"Some Shinigami just got more life added to them." Azrael thought to himself. He continued walking away from the bloody scene as passers by ran towards the dead businessman.

After walking a few blocks, Azrael found a cheap motel, and made his way to the reception.

"You need a room for the night?" Said the receptionist. She sat on a chair behind a desk, working on a crossword puzzle.

"Yes thank you," Azrael said, sounding more expressionless than ever. He looked down at the crossword puzzle, looking at the hints. One stood out to him.
'God of Death'

"Shinigami" Azrael said to the receptionist, who looked up at him puzzled. He pointed to the section of the crossword where it belonged. "God of Death. 14 across."

"Thank you," the receptionist said, handing him a key as she took the money. "Room 24, just down the hallway."

Azrael accepted the keys, and walked over to the room, locking the door as he entered. He dumped his bag on the bed, and looked around the small room. After a few minutes. He found something in the drawers. A little sign to attach to his door. Do not disturb.

Azrael stuck the sign on the door, and locked it, turning into his Shinigami form as he entered the room. He turned on the TV, having the volume up, and phased through the wall flying out into the street.

Azrael landed on a building, looking down at the street at all the people walking past. If he were to start a new life here, Azrael would need money, and the easiest way is to do what a Shinigami does best.

After an hour, a car pulled up in the alley below. It parked and waited for fifteen minutes, until a man who was going out of his way to make sure he wasn't followed walked over to the car.

"Drug Overdose"

The man walked over to the driver side window, and put his hand in with a wad of cash, pulling out a bag of white powder.

"Drug dealers would have plenty of money." Azrael said to himself. He stood up, and jumped from the rooftop, landing on the top of the car, and crushing the roof in. Azrael climbed off the car onto the ground, and ripped the door off. The driver was a man in his twenties, who stared at Azrael, terrified.

"What are you?" he asked, trying to to sound scared.

Azrael remained silent, and put his hand into the car, pulling the man out. He stuck his hand in the mans pocket, taking his wallet, then when he had no need for him, threw the man onto the road at the end of the alley. Where he was hit by a car.

He looked at the man who bought the drugs, and contemplated killing him, not wanting witnesses there. But he knew that nobody would trust his opinion, being a drug addict.

Azrael flapped his wings down, and flew up into the sky, leaving the scene. An hour later he was back in his motel room, counting the money he made, and filling the death diary.

"Drug dealer, +4 years."




Flint
Human with Dragon Powers
London, UK
Affected RPers: None

Flint opened the door to his apartment, and threw the keys into the bowl next to the door, as he walked to the couch. It had been a rough day at work, and Flint dropped onto it, sinking into the cushions.

He had been with the Anti-Terrorist Branch of the police force, where they infiltrated a house which acted as a base of operations for a terrorist group. Inside were numerous bags of fertiliser, used to make explosives. Gunshots were fired, but overall the mission was a success. The people were arrested, and the fertiliser and some explosives that hadn't been used yet were taken and destroyed.

"How was your day?" Flint said to the goldfish that swam in the small cubic tank on the kitchen bench. It didn't respond, which didn't surprise Flint.

"Almost 7 years since I ran away." Flint thought to himself. He hadn't had a close call in over three years. He wondered if they had given up on ever finding him, but soon shook the thought. Their experiments with dragons blood were a success, and they didn't have access to it before the year Flint was born. They would never give up on finding him. They had invested a lot in him, and saw him as their property.

"I will never be free." Flint sighed as he thought to himself. He would be hunted, all because of a decision that wasn't his.

Flint sat on the couch watching TV until early hours of the morning. He had a late shift the next day, and could afford to sleep in. At four am, he finally went to sleep.

Dalton Amaro
Half Vampire
Vampire Hunter
Central London (Beginning), Los Angeles (End)
Affected RPers: Anypne in LA who wants to find him

Dalton stood by the corner of the building, looking at his phone, rapidly tapping the screen. To a passer by he was sending a text message. What they didn't know was that the camera app was open, and he was looking at the church across the road on his screen. Inside the church was a member of his father's old gang, The Blood Angels. Five year's ago the gang split up, and were in different countries. So far he had only been able to track one. Daniel, Stefan's supposed best friend.

After a few minutes, Dalton saw a man walk out of the church. The sudden smell of blood that hit Dalton confirmed his suspicions. This man smelt more like blood that the average human. This man was a vampire.

Dalton pocketed the phone, and put his left hand in the right side of his jacket, grabbing his Suppressed S&W .500 Magnum, keeping it hidden. If Daniel wasn't willing to talk, he might need some convincing.

The vampire turned onto a quieter street, and Dalton waited a few minutes before going onto the street. The less people around, the harder it is to follow someone. Keeping his distance, Dalton followed the vampire into an alley.

As Dalton walked into an alley, he stopped. Nobody was there. It was a trap. He moved his right hand into the sleeve of his left arm, and held onto the hilt of his knife.

"You smell different." said a voice from behind him. Dalton froze.
"See vampires smell like blood. A lot of it. So do humans, but not as much. But not you." said the voice, "I could barely smell the blood on you. As if you have cleaned yourself excessively. You know who do that? Vampire hunters..."

Dalton pulled the knife out of the sheath sewed to the inside of his sleeve, and slashed at where the mans neck should be. The man quickly grabbed Dalton's wrist, and held it in place. His strength and speed exceeded Dalton's. Dalton had no doubt in his mind now. This man is definitely a vampire.

"Are you Daniel of the Blood Angels?" Dalton asked.
"Who is asking?" Daniel replied, slightly loosening his grip on Dalton's wrist.
"The son of Mary and Stefan. They were killed by members of the Bloody Angels, who didn't approve of Stefan being with a human." Dalton replied. "I want names and locations of the vampire's who killed my parents."
Daniel seemed confused, then smirked.
"That's what you think? You really don't know?" Daniel laughed.
"Don't know what? Look, are you going to tell me, or will I have to force the answers out of you?" Dalton yelled.
"The gang has separated, but I am still loyal. I know who was involved with your parent's death. I was part of the group. But I won't tell you anything else."

Dalton lit a flame on his palm, then wrapped his arm around Daniels. Daniel yelled in pain as he let go of Dalton, who kicked forward. Daniel disappeared from in front of Dalton, causing the kick to miss, and Dalton to lose his balance. Daniel reappeared behind him and kicked him to the ground.

"Damn he's fast." Dalton thought to himself, as Daniel reappeared in front of him. Dalton got up, and crouched, holding his knee where Daniel kicked him.

"Shame. Your father was weak. Though even he was stronger than you." Daniel laughed.

When Daniel was distracted, Dalton jumped up, and spear-tackled Daniel. Before Daniel could get up, Dalton pulled out his revolver and shot him in the shin. Daniel screamed in pain at the wound, which viciously bled.

"Are you going to tell me what I want to know?" Dalton asked Daniel.

"Go to hell!" Daniel yelled clutching his leg.

Dalton aimed the gun at the other leg and shot in the same place. He walked over to Daniel, and picking him up by the collar, pushed and held him against the wall.

"I have another 30 rounds in my jacket, and will be here all night if I have to." Dalton said, as blood poured on the ground around them from the wounds. "Tell me what I want to know."

"Edward. USA. He was the only person from the Blood Angels I knew involved in your parents murder." Daniel said softly, crying from the pain of the gunshots. Dalton put the gun away, and let go of Daniel, causing him to fall to the ground.

"I will find him and the rest of them and kill you all. If you lied to me, I will find you again, and we will do the same thing." Dalton said as he walked away. After a few seconds he heard a scream. He turned around and saw Daniel hobbling towards him. Daniel jumped, and attempted to grab Dalton, but was stopped by a gunshot to the head.

"Rot in hell, scum." Dalton said at the corpse on the ground, as he left the alley.

Three days later, Dalton walked out of LAX Airport, looking for a tattoo parlour to get another line on his wrist. One line for each vampire. After that, the hunt will continue...

[haybalebarn]

Tiel’Crec
Thunderphoenix; Pro-secrecy
Somewhere in New York, USA
ARPers: Winter [Aileena]

Tiel stumbled along the street and grimaced, clutching his stomach. How idiotic of himself, to get caught unawares in his human form. A wry chuckle escaped his lips; at least he wasn’t in raven form. That would have been much worse. He tried to ignore the harsh wound, but his vision began to swim from loss of blood. The frequency of his footfalls increased. He was almost to the building. To keep himself focused, he tried to distract himself with more comforting thoughts, such as the fact that it was nighttime. There were very few people around, so no one really paid him a second glance, which was good, considering he doubted he could hide his wings from sight for much longer.

Eventually, Tiel reached the doorway of the building, and took a moment to rest, trying to ignore the pain. He looked down at the bloodstained shirt he was using to cover up his wounds, and immediately regretted it, his vision blurring. As he tried to keep himself from fainting, he tried to remember how he got into this situation. Was he talking to a group of vampires, or werewolves? He couldn’t remember. He was trying to get acquainted with two separate groups, and this was the second one he had met… it must have been the werewolves. One of them made a comment of a horrible stench on his skin, and before he had known what happened, a knife had been pulled, and he had earned a fair few stab wounds.

Then he had… The lightheaded feeling returned, and Tiel almost slumped to the ground. What had he done next? He couldn’t quite remember. Wait, there the memory was! He had shocked them. That would help to explain why he was so weak, he had drained his power before the blood loss. He hoped he hadn’t killed any of the werewolves; he wanted to talk with them more. After the shock he must have grabbed a shirt off of one of them. He looked down at the unfamiliar white shirt he was holding over his wounds, and agreed with his own theory; he had taken a shirt from one of their bodies to stop the bleeding.

Now… now he needed to get up to the apartment. Tiel hoped he remembered it right. He couldn’t even remember who had mentioned this healer to him, but someone had, which was a surprise, considering how few people he had spoken to since going out into the world. He had found the location sometime earlier, and made a mental note of it. Hopefully he had the right location. Slowly, Tiel stood straight, mustering his strength, and entered the building. Now to get to the apartment, he could take the elevator or the stai- he’d take the elevator. When he pressed the call button, a small smudge of blood was left on the button. Instinctively, he tried to wipe away with the shirt he was holding, and left a much larger streak than the smudge had ever been. He mumbled to himself under his breath, and waited.

It seemed like an eternity to Tiel, but finally the elevator arrived. Riding up to the correct floor felt like two eternities, but eventually, he stumbled out of the elevator. The stumbling continued down the hall, and eventually ended in front of a door. Was this the right one? He couldn’t remember. By now, the world was swimming, flecks of pale light dancing in front of his eyes. It appeared he’d just have to take a chance. He knocked on the door as best he could, and then collapsed against it. A little rest couldn’t hurt, right? With that thought still in his mind, Tiel lost his grasp and faded into unconsciousness.

[VeloJello]

Manus and Cathleen Flynn.
Neutral Human-Fae Sorcerer and Anti-Secrecy Werecat.
A street in Michigan, USA.
ARPers: None.

It just wasn’t fair.

Neither Cathleen nor Manus had wanted anything more than a pleasantly uneventful evening. They had initially planned for Cathleen to go to one of her friends’ houses to do some ‘studying’ while Manus hawked ‘magic’ items at customers. Cathleen’s friend would drop her off at some point, and eventually the shop would close, and maybe they would share popcorn and a movie and poke holes in the actors’ performances.

However, when Cathleen phoned Manus saying that - surprise surprise! - her friend had suddenly come down with something resembling the flu, the grouchy magician was forced to close the shop temporarily and drive his somewhat weatherbeaten Cavelier down to the school. Both of them were irritated, and they said nothing on the ride home. Cathleen stared listlessly out the window for most of the ride, which was why she managed to spot the icicle-filled wind lancing toward their car.

“Manus, duck!” she cried, curling up into a ball. Her startled uncle did the same, shouting a couple of hasty incantations. Those were probably the reason that, rather than bisecting the car, the gust threw several knife-sharp icicles through the windows and sent the vehicle rolling. It halted on its side with a sickening crunch, leaving Cathleen near the ground and Manus suspended by his seatbelt.

“You all right, kid?” When Cathleen muttered an affirmative, Manus grunted and reached into the back seat to grab a largish stick. “Keep your ass in the car unless I say, get it? That was an Unseelie attack, no mistake. I’ll handle this.” As soon as he had finished speaking, the stick flashed in his hands, changing into a staff that, as it expanded, sent the pseudo-glass of the windshield flying in a burst of gold light. Manus tore his seat-belt loose and clambered out into the open, looking around for hidden dangers.

The first thing he noticed was that the area was dead silent; the second was that he was nearly choking on Unseelie magic vibes; the third was that he was surrounded by cornstalks (many of which his car had crushed); and the fourth was that someone else was trying to break into his mind.

His immediate thought was to throw whoever it was straight out of his mind, but he fought down the urge. He couldn’t tell how powerful his foe was, and until he could it was best not to give everything he had in a desperation play. Instead, he offered a weaker resistance, letting his opponent think that he was much weaker than he was. As soon as the presence’s first wave of assault had finished, Manus was able to scan his surroundings again - and this time he could see the four people picking their way through the ruined corn: a large, muscular black man with tattooed arms and dark eyes; a small, mousy-haired young woman who looked too pale and frail to be an Unseelie assassin; a broad-shouldered woman with red hair and many knives; and a tall, thin, grinning man with teeth much pointier than they should have been. Power rolled from them in waves; they were obviously less than concerned about stealth.

“Manus Flynn,” said the black man, whose proud stance and raised chin seemed to indicate leadership. Manus was tempted to fry him with a fireball, but he was still grappling with the mental presence, which was trying to drown him in fear. He gave it resistance, but also a surge of panic. He had to let it think it was working until he figured out which of them it was coming from. “I didn’t know you’d fall this easily. I had heard that you were the best of the best. Honestly, it’s kind of disappointing to find out I’m wrong.”

Manus tightened his grip on the staff. His knuckles were almost as pale as the younger woman’s face. “Yeah, well,” he grunted, wincing at a fresh wave of panic from his unseen attacker. “We all have our off days, don’t we?” his voice was conversational, but layered with forced bravado. “I can still kick your ass.”

The leader let out a loud laugh. “You may have lost your skill, but you’re still as arrogant as everyone says. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me where your niece is.”

Manus’s first impulse was to lie. After a quick consideration, he decided that he should probably still lie. “Home,” he said tensely. “So you’re out of luck there, I’m afraid.”

“She’s in the car, Cethin,” the frail girl interrupted. “He’s lying.”

So she must have been the mental attacker. “Thank you, Cerdwin,” said Cethin with a grin. He gestured to the red-haired woman and the tall man. “Go and get her.”

As the other two moved away, Manus decided to attack. He wasn’t going to get a better chance.

With all the strength he could muster, he threw a jolt of raw panic at his attacker. The girl’s mind buckled under his assault, and he left her to grapple with the image of a roaring, nightmarish monster rising out of the ground to attack her - it was incredibly cliched, but he was rushed - before turning to meet Cethin, who was rushing at him with a knife in hand. He shot a blast of flame at the man, only to watch his enemy dissolve into wispy shimmers. An illusionist, Manus realized. Well don’t that just beat all?

The sound of a car door being wrenched off of its hinges caught his attention. He whirled to see the tall man holding the door high, glaring into the vehicle - until fire exploded in his face, a roar seemed to shake the earth, and a gleaming gold lion burst out of the passenger’s seat.

Heracles (Thomas Archer) and Achilles (Leonard Cole).
Anti-Secrecy Manticores.
A bar in Blackpool, England.
ARPers: None.

Guitar chords, sweet and melodious, echoed through the old bar. Seconds later, a sonorous voice joined in. "When she was just a girl, she expected the world," sang Achilles the manticore-in-disguise, "but it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep and dreamed of para-para-paradise!"

The bar was abuzz with conversation. Live entertainment was a huge hook in almost every case, and Achilles tended to draw crowds with his - quite literally - enchanting voice. As he sang for the unsuspecting mortals, he layered the music with magic so as to inspire emotion and imagery in the minds of his listeners. "She'd say oh-woah-oh-ho, I know the sun must set to rise!"

With a quick riff on his guitar, Heracles finished out the song. "Thanks, ladies and gentlemen!" Achilles responded to the sound of a few scattered claps. "Any requests?" he added, and when no one suggested anything further, he shrugged and glanced at Heracles. The latter replied to the look by starting up a new song with a loud chord on his guitar. Achilles turned back to the mic and began to sing again.

((The song that Achilles was singing is Coldplay's Paradise.))

[Death's Spook]

Mira and Michael Mikulak
Winter Changling and Psychic
Mount Mitchell, North Carolina
ARPers: None


The entire forest was covered in ice. Plants had withered and died; the chill in the air became biting, everything in the area had the mark of deathly cold.

Everything, of course, except for a triangle, starting a few feet between Mira and the boy and branching. Mira’s attack had not touched the boy.

But the mental attack the boy had initiated ceased. Which was what Mira had been planning from the beginning. She did not afford the boy any time to start another mental assault; she coiled up like a snake, and leapt at him.

To his credit, the boy did not try to directly apply force against her trajectory. Instead, he resorted to applying countering lateral forces, one to him, the other to her. The result was a simple miss.

But Mira could not let him get footing long enough to invade her mind again. Instead, she summoned forth a howling gale of Unseelie chill to support and turn her as necessary to attack the boy.

The boy and the girl danced. Each attack the changeling could throw was countered by something innovative maneuver the boy would come up with. Every counterattack the boy tried cleanly missed the preternaturally quick predator woman. Gales howled, rocks flew, plants froze, the ground bucked. Each force one of them employed was defeated by an opposite and equal reaction force.

But there was something Mira was counting on. Psychic powers, especially thrown with such violence, were very tiring.

Whereas Mira was a supernaturally powerful scion of a fae who could do this all day long.

After a couple minutes, Mira’s breathing needed a little more effort. The way the boy was swaying made it clear that he was barely sitting upright. It was only a matter of time bef–

The boy collapsed.

Mira was a bit disappointed with the fact that the powerful battle ended so anticlimactically, but she didn't hesitate to go up to the boy and put her hand on the boy's throat to rip it out. Just as she was about to pull, though, Mira heard a shear from her pants, and–

Agony! Agony like none she had felt before, splitting her open like a physical thing! Agony unmatched by rolling in boiling acid, immolating yourself, and being flayed alive at the same time. PainpainpainpainpainpainPAAAAAAIIIIN!

And just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Mira turned her head around (keeping her hand on the boy's throat) and looked down. Her jeans were split open at her right thigh, and where she could see her skin, it was a bright red, as though burned. And right next to her leg was a levitating knife.

It wasn't remarkable, as knives went. It had a wooden handle, a blade that, while long and sharp, clearly came from the kitchen. But the bread knife had one attribute that made it so painful to Mira.

Its blade was clearly made out of steel.

It was obvious who was responsible, so Mira turned to the boy under her hand, and snarled,"I could rip out your throat."

The boy showed his teeth, and with a clear effort and hoarse voice replied,"Bleed? 'R poison?"

Mira remembered where the blade had been pointed. As she ran through the angles, Mira realized that if the blade had gone in much deeper, it would have hit an artery. And it was clear that the boy knew it, too. And he could still make it happen.

Not to mention the agony of having an iron blade thrust into her leg.

"What would you have me do?"

"...Deal. Alone?"

"No. We can't just go our separate ways. You attempted to invade my mind, and I cannot forgive that."

He pointed at her,"Here." he coughed,"Reason. Help?"

Mira caught on at last to her Queen's game. The boy was clearly powerful and the Queen just as clearly knew he was there,"Yes. I'm here for a purpose. If you help me, I'll forgive you for your crime."

"And alone."

Mira turned her head to the knife. "Yes. Alone." She withdrew her hand from his throat as he buried the knife in the ground, blade first. He gestured towards each of their heads, and then Mira felt a vague, but not invading, psychic pressure on her mind.

"You do understand that if you attempt to subvert me, I will either take you with me or be avenged?"

He simply nodded. Mira tentatively let him inside her mind, ready to try to force him out at a moment's notice.

A deep-ish voice made itself heard in her head,<That's better. Sorry I couldn't talk much earlier. Something They did hurt my vocal cords.> Mira could hear the capital letter on the word "They", but she said nothing indicating that fact. He continued,<So why are you here? I need to know what to help with.>

It was terrifying, knowing that this boy had just exposed her to some of the most terrifying things she had ever seen (and she had seen plenty of horrifying things in Arctis Tor, Medb's stronghold–the Queen absolutely saw to that) and was talking about what, if he knew as much about the Fae as he appeared to, was probably him having to assist in an assassination, as though he was just being asked to buy groceries.

Mira knew the theory behind telepathy, so she thought,<A demon binder. According to my sources, he's operating somewhere in Pennsylvania.>

<You got sent for a demon binder? Those guys tend to explode themselves really quickly. I mean, usually if you're going after a bunch of things that are trying to eat your face, one will eventually succeed. And by the way, you're going the wrong way to go there. We're in North Carolina. You need to go North. It's snowing because we're on a mountain.>

Mira facepalmed at her idiocy, before continuing, <Medb wouldn't have sent me if she thought he was going to explode himself.>

It was silent for a second, before she heard a slightly quieter (and somewhat fearful) voice go,<Medb. The Medb. As in, the Queen of Air Darkness?>

<Yes.>

<Monarch of the Unseelie Court. Ruler of Winter.>

<Yes.>

<And you work with her.>

Mira smiled.

<I am suddenly quite glad you're on my side. Shall we?> The boy got up an offered his arm like a perfect gentleman. Minus the blood, the messy hair, the gray skin, the tattered clothes, and the sheer number of scars the boy had, it was quite classy.

<Not until you buy me dinner.>

<Funny.>

<But seriously, I don't even know your name.>

<When people called me by a name, it was Michael.>

<Most know me as Mira.>

The battered boy and the fae woman got up, and walked, the boy leading the way north.

[Saraibre Ryu]

Ira-Gaylen and Lexife
Pro Secrecy
Castle attraction in Europe
ARPers: None right now

It was a breezy afternoon atop a popular tourist site for passersby to observe whenever they sought to see the old timely castles of the past. The grounds for which the structure had been kept were all in fairly good condition for something at least six hundred years old. In the courtyard where none had been, wild flowers were kept neat and the water that flowed in from an ancient aqueduct seemed to have been in perfect arrangement. Atop one of the towers, was the castle’s best kept secret. In the loft was many tables, vases and plant from a foreign land being grown and kept in just the right conditions to maintain their life. Crystals were also being grown under unusual circumstances and was even more odd, was the unused furniture and cots off side to another table, with a laptop, a mobile router and a cat, sitting in front of said laptop operating it. Just beyond it was a kettle on a wood stove that had been put on just a few moments ago.

The grey tabby swatted at keys like any other cat would, however it seemed the feline was actually trying to type something. Then it moved the mouse with its head, and swatted at it to click the left button. If anyone was observing behind the cat, one could see he was confirming sales on eBay.

Then, there was a shifting noise, followed by cracking stone. In the shadows of the stony ceiling was a creature unlike the usual norm of this world. She, at least assumed she, was growing restless in a slumber, causing her thin film of granite to fray and reveal the shiny galena underneath, or the glowing bluish purple tanzanite beneath.

Within the gargoyle’s mind, negativity swarmed. There was clash on the horizon, heat and cold clashed and suddenly, it was gone. Usually Ira-Gaylen did not meditate this early before awakening, but her clairvoyance had not given her a choice in this matter. After the sudden change in feeling, there was a long, drawn out build of tremors. What kind she could not determine, other than the fact it was a shifting dark that was brought upon by individuals of brash and reckless kinds.

Then, her eyes snapped open.

“Mreow?”

The gargoyle shook the remaining bits of debris off of her. “Yes Lexife, I am awake far too early.”

“Mrrrrow?”

Ira walked forward, using her wings o shadow her eyes so they could adjust to the not yet resting sun. “Yes, another disturbance. I feel someone will be in need of our help soon.”

Lexife jumped from the stool he was sitting on and onto his owner’s shoulder. His body changed into a wisp that reformed as a crow before perching himself on a crystal coming out of her backside. “Caaw, caw caaaw.”

“Someone nearby, I would assume in town… perhaps my crystals have already found them, and their aura’s, you will be able to see the trails by now.” She thought out loud, quite literally. “Go search for them, and bring them back here. I believe we have enough to sustain a few guests for one night, if not more.”

Lexife cawed in confirmation, fluttering off Ira’s shoulder, and out the open archway towards the nearby town. He knew Ira did not get these hints very often, never mind so frequently and is such lucidity. Who these people were, if they were people, and why they would need help was unknown to Lexife, but he was the errand familiar for Ira, and he did what he was told. They knew of those that weren’t humans, as nonhumans were everywhere.

Not that the humans themselves knew that.