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Holocaust survivor.(Made in Israel)

02/17/2021 04:11 PM 


Nightmares "History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake."-James Joyce Erik had no idea what woke him up, but he had enough experiences with nightmares to know it probably wasn't anything good. He could still feel the remnants of the dream there, if he concentrated, clinging to his consciousness like spiderwebs. Blinking, he sat up and stared towards the window, but the clouds had swallowed the moon and the only thing he could see beyond was darkness, broken by the occasional spill of sickly-pale light when the clouds shifted. He had a memory of the prison, of the soft fluorescent glow of the guards station beyond the gaping chasm that surrounding his plastic cube. His mouth set in a grim line, and he tossed the covers back and got out of bed. It wasn't until he'd rounded the bed that he noticed its emptiness. The clock numbers glowed at him that it was thirty minutes past three am. She was a night-owl, but this was late even for her. He left the bedroom and walked down the hallway, opening himself to the metal and letting it soothe the tension in his neck and shoulders. It helped, a little. Rogue wasn't in the rec room or the kitchen, all of which were silent and dark, though something about the rooms had the air of having been recently occupied. He walked down the staircase which led to the work-out room, and there was a yellow glow beneath the door which told him he'd likely found Rogue. He pushed the door open, but to his surprise, it wasn't Rogue on the treadmill but Mystique. The thump-thump of her feet on the treadmill beat out a steady, even pace. "Has something happened?" she asked him, the sound of her voice as familiar as the yellow gleam of her eyes. He'd missed her nearly as acutely as he had the metal while he'd been in prison. "No," he said quietly, watching as she ran. "I couldn't sleep." "Decided to come for a run?" She flashed a grin at him. "Not the usual nighttime exercise you were fond of when you couldn't sleep, if I recall. Jailbait there not as accommodating as I was?" He smiled, shaking his head at her nickname for Rogue. "She's not there." "Ah," Mystique said, laughing. "So you're looking for her." "Now that I think of it, I should have known it was you. This always was your favorite way to burn off excess energy. Is Mesmero averse to my preferred method of physical exercise when awoken in the middle of the night?" "Mesmero sleeps like the dead," Mystique said, her atonal voice belying nothing of her exertions. "Must be nice," Erik murmured, slightly envious. Mystique turned to him, and while he couldn't read anything in the flat glow of her eyes, there was a set to her mouth he recognized. "Yeah." Something unpleasant had awoken her, as well. "The usual, then?" She nodded, turning away from him, a tenseness in her shoulders belying her usual unwillingness to talk about her nightmares. She'd told him once what they were-some gruesome tableau about villagers and a river and the choking darkness of moving water. He forgot at times, because she was physically unchanging in her natural form, how much older she was than him. Though the idea of intolerant villagers driving out and murdering those who were different was not exactly something of which he had no knowledge, at least his family was never complacent in the horrors he himself had suffered. Though really, did it matter? Humanity proved over and over it never changed, that it would always seek to destroy what it feared the most. "I can't imagine Mesmero has no nightmares of his own." Mystique slowed her run to a jog. He wondered how long she'd been on there. There was no way to tell-it could have been minutes or hours. "He does. He can do something when he goes to sleep so that he can control his dreams. I think it's some side-effect of his mutation." "Can he really? How fascinating. A pity he can't do it for you, then." Mystique switched off the treadmill, then gracefully exited the machine. "He could, if I wanted. I told him no." He cocked his head at her, surprised. "Why?" "Because I don't want to forget. It was a long time ago." She turned from him and moved towards the free-weights. "Do you want to join me?" "I'll go find my own form of absolution, thank you," he said wryly, and saw her shake her head. "You should be glad for my late-night exercising, seeing as how it helped save you from jail," she muttered, selecting a weight and beginning a series of arm curls. "Oh? Here I thought you used your wits to free me, not your brawn." She looked over her shoulder at him, muscles sliding and shifting her scales like silk as she continued her repetitions. "I came up with the idea one night when I couldn't sleep. Right on that treadmill." She smiled viciously. "Healthy body, healthy mind." "Quite true," he said quietly, flexing his fingers. He was wearing gloves, as he always did now to bed. "What machinations are you considering in that fiendish mind of yours at present?" "Nothing that matters. All the people I'd like to kill are already dead." She switched arms, beginning her repetitions anew. He remembered the guard he'd killed in his escape from prison, and far beyond that, the ones he'd wanted to kill in his youth but had been too weak from starvation to accomplish. He'd dreamed of finding them and killing them, even years after the war had ended, though it would have been nigh impossible to find them. "Maybe that's why we don't sleep," he said thoughtfully. "Though perhaps there is some justice in the fact we outlived them all." 'Maybe," she said, setting down the free weight and selecting another, presenting her back to him. She didn't sound very convinced. He would tell her not to stay up too late, but it wouldn't matter. Neither of them would go back to bed before the sun rose. He left her there, thinking about ghosts. ooooooooOOOOOOOOoooooooo There was a light on in the kitchen, but it wasn't Rogue. It was Pyro, looking sleepy and disheveled but annoyed, rummaging through the fridge and muttering something about milk. "I think we're out of fresh milk. You'll have to mix up the powdered kind if you want any." Pyro jumped, obviously not expecting anyone to be there, and hit his head on the top of the fridge. He rubbed it with a wince. He reminded Erik of a gangly teenage boy in that moment, much more than he ever had. "I don't like that stuff. It tastes funny. I'll just have a Dr. Pepper." "At nearly four in the morning?" Erik shook his head in exasperation. "How will you ever get back to sleep?" Pyro shrugged, popping the top of the can of soda he'd retrieved and leaning against the counter. "I drink a lot of soda. This one won't hurt, I guess." He tipped the soda back and drank. Erik noticed the legs on his pajamas were several inches too short. "You seem to be growing." Pyro looked vaguely uncomfortable at the observation, which Erik let pass. "Yeah. Guess so." "You need some new clothes, I imagine. I'll mention it to Mystique." Erik watched as Pyro's fingers wrapped around the can of soda, tightening slightly. The boy seemed to tense. "Unless you enjoy the aesthetic of pants that end just above your ankle? I'm hardly up on the latest fashion trends." "What? Oh, no. It''s fine. Just, you know. Don't want to be any trouble." He tapped his foot anxiously on the floor and drank his soda. Pyro's nervous energy reminded Erik of Gambit, who could never sit still. "It's not trouble to clothe you properly," Erik said, slightly insulted. "Or did you think I picked you up at Alkali and expected you to wear that horrible jumpsuit garment forever?" "No, I just..." Pyro trailed off, then moved abruptly to throw his finished can of soda away in the trashcan. Erik was both impressed and worried at the amazing speed in which Pyro had drained that soda. No wonder they went through more of those cases than he had previously thought possible. "Why are you awake?" Erik asked, curious. Perhaps he and Gambit had fought, though they all usually heard that when it happened. "Dunno. Couldn't sleep." The light from the kitchen shone briefly in Pyro's dark eyes. They were guarded, cautious, as Rogue's sometimes were. Sometimes, Erik really did think they could be siblings. Mystique had told him, shortly after Pyro had arrived, that the boy made his bed every day and kept all of his small collection of belongings packed in a suitcase in his closet. Erik wondered if he'd done that at Xavier's, too, but he'd never asked. Eventually Pyro had stopped doing that, which seemed to suggest he'd finally settled in. "Can I ask you a question?" Erik nodded, hiding his surprise. "You may." "Do you think we'll ever see them again?" He didn't need to ask who they were. "I imagine so." "They'll be pissed. At me. At Rogue. At you." "I imagine they will be," Erik said calmly. "Is that what woke you up tonight, then? Thoughts of seeing your former teammates?" Pyro shook his head and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "No. Not really. I was just thirsty." He turned to leave the kitchen. "You want me to leave the light on?" "No, thank you. I'm just looking for Rogue. Have you seen her?" He followed Pyro out of the kitchen, glancing towards the rec room, which was still dark. "No. But the door to the crow's nest was open I think." Pyro stopped outside of Gambit's room. "Um. Night." "Good night," Erik said, amused by the sudden flush on the young man's face. "I expect you up at the regular time tomorrow, of course." "Yeah. Yes, sir," he amended, pushing the door open and disappearing inside. He closed the door lightly. Erik wondered if Pyro would eventually get back to sleep despite the consumption of his soda and whatever nightmare had awoken him. Maybe he would. The young were resilient, after all. ooooooooOOOOoooooooo She wasn't in the surveillance room, but instead was out on the small open enclosure, staring out over the ledge. The breeze picked up loose strands of her hair that had escaped from her sloppy ponytail. She wasn't wearing gloves. "Hey." "Hello. An odd time to be stargazing." She shrugged, the gesture reminiscent of Pyro. "Yeah. Couldn't sleep." "A common malady, it would seem." She looked at him, her dark eyes somber. The occasional sliver of moonlight seemed to make the strands of white in her hair glow briefly before the light faded. "I thought maybe I'd watch the sun rise or something." "That won't be for hours yet. The sun usually rises after we've eaten breakfast." "Yeah, so it wasn't that great of a plan," she muttered, scowling. "It is really late, okay? I wasn't thinkin' straight." Her accent was soft, lyrical. He kept his face serious. "As long as you admit it." He joined her at the metal railing, looking down at the sea below. It was a calm night, despite the clouds; the sea moved gently beneath, dark water undulated and shifting like a sigh. "A relaxing sight." "If you say so." Rogue shuddered, though he knew she was trying to hide it; her small body twisted almost as imperceptibly as the waves beneath them, but he was adept enough at reading her body language to tell. "Still afraid of heights?" "You know, I never was before..." she trailed off, turning her face away. "Never mind." He reached out and took her chin between his fingers, turning her gaze back to him. "Before the Statue. It happened, Rogue. There's no point in pretending it didn't." "Trust me, Erik. I don't think that it didn't." Her lips pressed together. "You just hate it when I talk about it." "No, I hated when you first came here and threw it back at me at every possible opportunity." He released his hold on her chin, but kept her gaze caught with his own. "I was scared. You deserved it." Her voice was knife-edged with anger. "I'm not saying I didn't. I'm just saying I didn't like it." She expelled a breath and turned away again. "Forget it. We should go inside. I have like, three hours left to sleep." It was two, at this point, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "What woke you up, Marie?" She whirled around, hands on her hips. "What woke you up, Erik?" "A nightmare." "About what?" she demanded, and he almost laughed at her display of pique, but he remembered she wasn't wearing her gloves. She was dangerous and in a volatile mood, and beneath the love she had for him there was hate, too. Even if she would never admit it, or even if it was for what he'd done to her rather than for him, it was still there. Every now and then it peeked out, just like the moon was doing from beneath the gathering dark clouds. "I don't remember. I assume it was the usual. The camps, prison." The day he'd left Charles. Thinking Mystique was dead. His subconscious had so many memories from which to choose. Perhaps it had been some gruesome amalgamation of all of them, and he'd been spared the effects out of some sense of mercy possessed by his unconscious. "Do you ever have nightmares about what you tried to do to me?" He stared her straight in the eyes and answered her question. There was no room between them for pretty lies. "No." She nodded. "Thank you for not lying." Her voice was still strangled, but he believed she was sincere. "Now could you please leave me alone?" "If you wish." He turned to go, and saw her gloves lying on the floor of the metal enclosure. "Do you want your gloves?" "I won't forget them, if that's what you're asking." "I know you won't, Rogue." He turned to look at her there, silent and oddly forlorn. He had the strangest urge to embrace her, but he did not think his touch would evoke anything good in her at the moment. "I'm sorry, if it matters. That you dream of it, still." He was, for what it was worth. "You're also sorry it didn't work." He inclined his head. Lying about that was useless when she knew it to be true from the absorption of his thoughts when he touched her. This could not go anywhere good if they continued. There was a reason they never discussed Liberty Island. It tore down the fragile thing that existed between them, already gossamer-thin and stretched as taunt as is it could possibly be. That it existed at all was shocking enough. "You have nightmares about Alkali. About Charles. And that didn't even work." She sounded petulant, just slightly, but could he really blame her? "That was different. He was my lover for many years. You were-" "Nothing to you." "Nothing to me." He dropped his hand and walked back to where she stood. He still didn't touch her-her entire body screamed at him not to try it-but he stood as close as he could. "You are not nothing to me now." He didn't know whether or not that placated her. "Would you have had nightmares about it if it had worked?" "I can't possibly know the answer to that. Is that what you want, Marie? To be in my nightmares?" She looked away, towards the sea. Her voice was very tired. "No. I don't know. I don't even know why we're having this conversation. Please just leave me alone." "As you wish," he said, turning and leaving her there. He had a feeling this conversation was not over, and that really, it never would be. ooooooooOOOOooooooo She came to bed almost an hour later, sliding between the covers and moving cautiously towards him. He could feel the chill of her body from where he lay on his back, still awake and staring out of the window as the sky lightened. Perhaps he was wrong about the sunrise. It was easy, in his fortress of metal and stone in the middle of the sea, to forget that the seasons changed. He moved to his side and pulled her back against him, seeking some sort of solace in the softness of her body against his, giving her an offering of peace in the only way he knew how. She sighed and relaxed back in his embrace. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. He rested his chin on top of her head, inhaling the scent of her mixed with the slight tinge of salt from the sea air. "I am sorry I cannot give you the answers you want." "I don't know the answers I want," she murmured, sounding drowsy. She settled herself more snugly against him and he drew his fingers over her cotton-covered arm. Her hands were gloved in soft white leather, and one came up to briefly rest atop of his. Touch, for her, was a gift she did not accept lightly. "I don't want you to have nightmares. I don't want them to be about me. I don't want to have nightmares about you laughing while you try and kill me." She shuddered. "That was what your nightmare was about?" "You had built another machine. You just pretended to love me so that I would get in it willingly this time." He paused in mid-stroke, fingers resting lightly against her side. "The machine was faulty. Even if you had died, it wouldn't have mattered. It would have all been in vain." His voice was tight, now. This was the part of it that galled him the most; that he had almost sacrificed one of his own (for she was that, even before she was his, by virtue of being a mutant) for something that did not work. For nothing. "Do you know what the worst part of the nightmare was, Erik?" She turned in his arms and he loosened his hold so that he was staring down at her. "That you did it." She nodded. He leaned down and kissed her until her powers started, pulling away after a moment. Her fingers wound in his hair, leather sliding against his scalp, and his hands went to the hem of her shirt and pulled. He pushed her beneath him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "When I do that...what does it feel like?" she gasped, arching hard beneath his touch. "Like drowning," he said, his voice rough from desire and the draw and something else that made him furious to touch her, possess her, show her that she was his. Afterwards, she was quiet in his arms, sprawled warm on top of his chest. "That you made you happy." He smiled briefly. "Yes. Did you not enjoy yourself? I rather thought that you did." She lifted her head, her hair tousled and framing her face, and glared at him while her face flushed. She hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Not that. I meant ... that I would have gotten in your machine willingly. It made you happy to hear that, didn't it?" He sighed and closed his eyes briefly. He was tired now, and his nightmares seemed a long way away. "Have we not discussed this enough for one evening?" "You can't lie, Erik. I saw it." "Then why are you asking me?" She lay her head back down and yawned. "Never mind. I guess it doesn't matter. I don't want to die. Not for you, not for the cause. But I will. If I have to." Her voice was determined. "I know," he murmured, stroking her back. "I will do my very best to see you survive to see the day we are victorious. That promise I can offer you, but I do not know what will be required of any of us in this war. I do not want you to die, Marie, and I regretted what I had to do to you even before you were more to me than a name." She nodded, rubbing her face against his chest. "If you have to do it again, it had better work. That's all I'm saying." With that, she fell asleep. He stroked her hair and wondered how it had happened, that this terrified girl who had pleaded so desperately for him not to kill her hadjust given him her body and then promised that she'd die for him. He thought about them, about his soldiers, as she lay quiescent and sleeping in his arms. They all were afraid of the same thing, really. Abandonment, imprisonment. Death before they had truly lived. Death before the dawn broke over a day when they no longer had to fear those shadows that haunted them in the night. Erik stared out of the window until the sun broke through the clouds, lighting up the sky, streaking the horizon in red. A harbinger of things to come, so that the things that had been could be put to rest. He could offer no more than that. Fin


02/17/2021 03:06 PM 

Example Blog.

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02/17/2021 02:07 PM 

Current mood:  adored

Besides Nocturna, I have another DC Comics character however my muse for her is at a low so I decided to make Nocturna for a group and for some inspiration. You may request my other character if you like, just message me to know who she is. I rped Nocturna a long while ago and I decided it was time to revive her.  My Nocturna is a mixture of what is seen in Batman Detective Comics, New 52 Batwoman, Batwoman TV Series, and my own spin on things. Please refrain from pushing your ideas about her on me, just write your own version.  My playby is my choice. I love Monica and will always use her as a face if I can. And with Nocturna- I can! I am a literate multi-para to novella player. Please attempt to keep up with me. I do not like one liners and such unless it is on discord or in the status stream. My character is a villainess and she will play her part. She will not be nice. Small ooc talk is okay but it must be minimal and if it becomes tedious or bothersome, I will just stop talking and writing with you. Do not come at me to play another role for you. If I wanted that role I would have made that page. As it is , I did not. Do not come at me only to jump my bones and fornicate. NOPE. It will not happen. Romance is developed in stories or you can forget all about it. I am not dating anyone here and I wll not date anyone here. My group happens to be my priority storylines, then my main connections, then everyone else. If asked, I will gladly introduce you to my comic group however you do not have to join to write with me. Please do not send me generic starters or posts. I find it rude. Talk to me and let's create something. If you have read these, tell me something you love about the NIGHT! Please do not add gifs or images to my blog comments.

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

02/17/2021 12:38 PM 

Desire - February 2021 drabble

Desire    February 2021 Drabble BL;  Mentions: Livewire There was very little time left.  Stefan Salvatore had just married the love of his life, Caroline Forbes in a small ceremony witnessed by compelled guests and a few people who wanted to actually be there.  Essentially the pits of hell were opened and now Katherine wanted to wreak her vengeance upon Mystic Falls.  The Bell was ringing.  Hell was about to consume the town.His heart was breaking.  All he could think of was the desire to take Caroline away from all this and make mad passionate love to her the entire night long.   After all, this was supposed to be their wedding night.  Instead, this was the night that Stefan Salvatore was going to die.That beautiful face would be the etched into his memory for the last few moments of his life.  Stefan held the hateful shrew in his arms firmly as the fires of hell were approaching.  All he could think about was Caroline.  He was never going to be able to wake up beside her and kiss her lips again with her as his wife.  A new adventure that they were supposed to embark on together, was going to be cut short.  The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few or the one.  His desire for a happy ending wasn’t going to happen.Caroline didn’t deserve this.  He knew that he did.  He’d had almost two centuries of blood on his hands that he did need to pay for in kind.  His blonde angel had given meaning to his life right here at the end.   His desire to live to be an old man with his beloved wife was just a fading dream.  Caroline, I hope you can forgive me He whispered in a silent prayer. Damon thought he’d take his place holding Katherine to face the music and die with her.  Damon had compelled the human again Stefan to leave him there.   Stefan had left the underground crypt long enough to draw a syringe of his own blood.  He snuck up behind Damon and stuck his brother with the cure.  Damon was going to get his future.  Stefan’s sacrifice was going to make sure of it.  He’d whispered to his brother’s unconscious form a silent plea to watch over Caroline for him since he was about to leave this world.The last message from Caroline had brought him to tears.   All that could have been, all that never was began to flood his mind.  He wanted nothing more to hold her in his arms again until he was a very old man, but he couldn’t.  Katherine had made sure of that.  Katherine’s obsession in the end had brought them all to this point.  Stefan had sent Caroline away with Alaric and the twins so they could be far away from here should the town itself be completely consumed.  Bonnie was working on something magically but having Caroline and the girls anywhere near here was not something Stefan was willing to risk.  Caroline and the girls were going to live to face another day.  Maybe from whatever afterlife existed, he would be able to watch Caroline.  But would he be able to see anything from his seat in hell?Finally the moment came.  The raging fire consumed Katherine.  His ears were filled with the screams of the doppelganger as she met her final end.  Stefan didn’t cry out.  He met death as it was always meant to be.  He laid down his life for Caroline, for Damon and the people of Mystic Falls that were completely innocent in all this.  The lights of his life faded from his now moral coil.  His last thought was to Caroline.  “I … love …you Caroline.”  He breathed.~*~He had no idea how much time had passed.  Was it 10 minutes, 10 hours or even 10 seconds?  Stefan stood outside of his body and over his prone form.  He knew he was dead.  He couldn’t manage to smile.  How could he?  Caroline and the girls were saved.  Damon was saved.  The entire town of Mystic Falls had been saved.  Katherine had met with her end once and for all.  His sacrifice had worked. “It’s time to go Stefan.”   The silent voice spoke next to him.  “You’ve earned your rest.”   It was a man’s voice.  Stefan just kept looking down at his body in the natural world.  Tears fell down from his eyes saturating his face.  The lost time stolen from him with Caroline was never going to be regained.  On the day she was married, she became a widow.  He hated himself for what he’d done to her, but he still had to do it.  He was hard wired to do exactly what he’d just done.The man with him said nothing.  The great sorrow and the anguish Stefan felt was heart breaking.  The man was slightly taller than Stefan with dark hair and blue eyes.  He bowed his head slightly and rose his head again.  Those blue eyes were glowing with a brilliant white light directed at Stefan.Stefan rose his chin.  It felt like a warm oil washed over him bringing him a feeling of peace unlike anything he ever felt before in his life.  His tears of anguish turned into tears of relief.  He knew that his desire that Caroline live a long and happy life was going to happen.  He would be there with her and for her in spirit.  Hell wasn’t his destination.  Stefan Salvatore had finally found peace.  Giving in to that peace, he finally vanished from this chamber leaving behind his mortal shell.   Stefan Salvatore would be waiting for Caroline to come to him some day. Moral Clarity ; Stefan Salvatore;  1607177 credit: james kriet

ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕗𝕦𝕝 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙

02/17/2021 09:43 PM 

Claires kinks

Claire's kinks 100% Exhibitionist 100% Switch 99% Voyeur 93% Non-monogamist 90% Brat 84% Experimentalist 78% Rigger 75% Dominant 73% Submissive 70% Sadist 69% Brat tamer 48% Vanilla 45% Masochist 42% Rope bunny 32% Primal (Hunter) 27% Primal (Prey) 22% Degrader 19% Master/Mistress 17% Owner 16% Degradee 13% Slave 3% Daddy/Mommy 0% Pet 0% Boy/Girl 0% Ageplayer 

⨺ Vanity of the Elite ⨺

02/17/2021 04:39 PM 

Again another sample fo custom awesomeness lol

[Taken from an rp with Merrick Cross]Keno Cassidy is one of the last remaining original bloodline of the tribe of Amazon women that ruled over men so long ago now, but she seemed to have a disregard for men burned into her genetics. Like Vanity she was one of the top female Elite bounty hunters for the Illuminati Elite Underground, in fact she had once been the top female hunter, and for many a year at that. That was until that bitch Vanity Jensen had come along. Never had any female outshone Keno the way Vanity had, she had seemed to have a natural flare for everything she turned her hand to, it was both frustrating and sickening at the same time. It was almost as if the girl wasn't human. In fact Keno was convinced she wasn't, not the usual breed or kind anyway, if nothing else Keno simply couldn't admit defeat at the hands of an ordinary f***ing human. Keno herself was blessed with a strange and exotic bloodline, also a true original ancestor of the Mitochondrial Eve, and the parasite was strong in her blood, the strongest it had ever been in any of her ancestry. Not the usual mitochondrial strain either that could be found in the body and genetics of all humans, Kenos' mitochondrial symbiote was evolved and mutated. And it made her somewhat super-human.Mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell. Technically "organelles" mitochondria are essentially symbiotes - they consume the sugars that our bodies have converted from food, and in return produce electricity with which to power the cell. A symbiote is similar to a parasite. The difference is that parasites are never beneficial to their hosts, whereas symbiotes perform a service which is beneficial to the symbiote and the host. Mitochondria are considered separate from the cell, the reason for this is that they have their own DNA - DNA which is unaffected by other genetic exchanges. Throughout a persons' family tree, no matter how many different genetics are thrown into the ancestral mix so to speak, the genetic make-up of the mitochondria always stays the same.Mitochondria remains intact through the female line. Male sperm contains only enough mitochondria to power the sperm to the surface of the egg - it does not enter the egg. The egg, however, contains mitochondria that have been passed from mother to daughter for countless generations. The only "commonly known" way for mitochondrial DNA to alter is by natural mutations, which normally occur very slowly when compared with the almost frantic gene mixing, we and our parents take part in. Scientific research around the planet shows fundamental similarities in mitochondrial DNA in living humans and suggested that we all contain genetic material from a single woman who was living in Africa around 200,000 years ago. She was the one they named The Mitochondrial Eve. However, for some reason Kenos' natural mutation as it were has moved at an alarming rate of acceleration, and teamed with the commonly unknown ways of the Illuminati Elite scientists of The Underground they found a way to alter and boost the separate DNA within her mitochondria even further (A process that would kill someone of the average variety of mitochondria) and keep her in the continual evolution that made her what she was today. Totally enhanced in almost every way. Since the day Vanity had almost killed her during a sparring session that involved little more than skill and the usual performance enhancers and gene tonics that all the hunters had access to, she had felt a burning hatred for the Jensen girl and made an enemy of her more than willingly. Despite the severe punishment Vanity received for it at the hands of their superior Kadaji, it became almost as if he found some secret thrill in pitting them against one another. It seemed that for every contract Keno got, Vanity got an opposing counter-contract. For example, if Keno was given was given a contract of protection, Vanity was given a counter-contract for the capture or murder of the same contract subject and vice versa etc etc, and much to Kenos' ever growing frustration Vanity always seemed to come out on top and fulfil her contract demands to the last letter. It was a frustration and hatred that only grew to extremes when Vanity eventually took Kenos' place as top female hunter. As if the public humiliation of her nearly dying at that cocky little sluts' hands wasn't enough, now she had lost out to her on the one thing she was famed and revered for throughout the underground, the one thing other than her ancestry that she could truly call her own. It was this hatred she felt for Vanity that spurred her on to discover what she could about this so called human, and it was only really by chance that she had recently discovered the truth about Vanity being the first female homunculus, genetically designed and modified to house something called "The Xiaede" Though it was more than obvious that this "creation" was not aware of the power she truly housed within, her genetics remained locked and if her awareness was brought about before due time it was possible that Vanity would in effect self-destruct. Possible and probable but not certain. As an experiment like this had never taken place before and so said results were merely theory and speculation. On the other side of things, it was possible that this sudden awareness may also make her genetics unstable and she would switch between being herself and this Xiaede creature, or it may also accelerate Vanity into her planned evolution and complete the process. So consumed by bitterness, hate and vengeance for the Jensen girl was Keno, that she was willing to take the risk, to push that metaphorical button she had no business even knowing the existence of. Then she would go down in the history of The Underground. Keno the Catalyst, now that had a nice little ring to its' sound. Little was Keno aware of what a truly great threat she posed to The Elites' plans regardless of which way it went. Of course, the Elite knew about her little plans, it was the Elite that had given her the opportunity to find out such plans in the first place, there wasn't much that went un-noticed to them, they were always watching and waiting and if there was one thing, they could predict it was the behaviour and thought process of those that worked for them. Every Elite employee etc was micro-chipped with the veri-chip. They were led to believe it was so that they could be found no matter where they were, a kind of keep you safe and locate you when necessary thing. But unknown to them the veri-chip did a great deal more than just that. It also worked like a transmitter, being able to both send and receive information of various kinds, among such things recorded etc were Kenos' reactions to the information she was presented with. And in their eyes, she had definitely become a dangerous liability.Unseeable, unsenseable, untraceable Kadaji had been monitoring Keno for a while, everywhere she went the unseen eyes of the Illuminati were upon her whether she knew it or not. She had chosen this little sh*t heap hotel foolishly thinking that she was safe from prying eyes and ears, but Kadaji was already ten steps ahead of her thinking. He'd had the place installed with secret cameras and wired weeks ago. He knew Keno only too well, her tactics and the like, he'd trained and drummed most of them into her himself over the years, he knew exactly what she'd do, when she'd do it and how she'd do it. Oh, predictable little Keno, nothing like his prized little Vanity, she was unpredictable at the best of times. Regardless of what information her chip picked up, he could never truly pin-point exactly what she might do next, she could change her mind and/or course of action in a split-second when the mood took her, it was both a blessing and a curse to him at the same time. Like having an unruly teen in his midst, but she could think on her feet in many ways his other hunters didn’t or couldn't. Vanity was a liability in the right way.Kadaji sat in his office and was surprised to see the screen flick on hours earlier than he'd expected as the motion sensors picked up movement in the apartment, he sat forward with an interested frown, and a smile, almost smirk curled the edge of his lips as he shook his head in amusement. Variable change in situations was indeed a beautiful thing at times, and this was perfect. Merrick Cross, one of the oldest and most powerful pure breed Lycans to grace the face of the planet was right there on the screen in front of him. It was almost too good to be true. Merrick’s reputation preceded him and rightly so. It was almost poetic; Keno had failed to fulfil her contract on the lone wolf a few years ago. Failed miserably in fact. And yet here he was taking a shower in her little plotting den of iniquity. There was also more than met the eye to the gene tonics etc that were readily available for the hunters, yes, they enhanced performance and did the job they were supposed to, but in order to do so they interfered with the takers' genetics, that was how they worked. Most knew this but not many questioned it beyond that point. In actuality, the gene tonics helped the takers' metabolism to be more receptive and open to the input and output of the veri-chip, which in turn gave people like Kadaji control of them to a certain extent. It also gave the opportunity for the person in control to alter the extent of the effects that the performance enhancers had on the person taking them.Kadaji sat back with a grin, it would be a while before Keno returned there but the show that awaited him would most definitely be worth the wait. Merrick didn't look like he was in a hurry to get out of there, not that he needed to be. He probably presumed it was the abode of some mere mortal that he could take out in an instant and with what Kadaji had in mind, he wouldn't be far wrong. When Keno had originally been assigned to track and hunt Merrick it had been to simply shoot him with a gun that tagged him with a similar micro-chip so they could monitor his movements. Or at least that was what she was lead to believe, she was also told that all previous hunters before her had failed. What she wasn't told was they were ordinary hunters, not hunters of the Elite. Many of which had been quite literally torn limb from limb. But it didn't matter, they were all just toy soldiers and pawns for the sacrifice anyway. The very top sectors and the cream of the crop were the ones that mattered. They were the ones that the Elite didn't want to lose.The Elite had extensive files regarding Mr Cross and his escapades and antics, and among them also was a great deal of footage of the carnage he created including the previous hunters he had so mercilessly slaughtered along the way. And Keno had seen them upon being assigned her contract. Keno had an irrational fear of Lycans, but none so much as Merrick Cross, she of course denied it and hid it well, not wanting to show weakness of any kind, but the output of her veri-chip told a very different story and exposed her fear for what it really was. Kenos' contract had been somewhat of a test for her if she did but know it, a test that she didn't pass, thus making her eligible for sacrifice so to speak. She had simply failed because in effect she had bottled it, her panic and fear had gotten in the way of her contract duties and when push had come to shove and she was forced to face her greatest fear she had crumbled. She'd missed the shot and instead of attempting to get close enough to shoot again or insert the dart by hand, she had panicked and fled, choosing instead to save her own skin and in the process showing where her loyalties truly lay - With herself.Kadaji had no doubt in his mind that Vanity would have succeeded where Keno had failed, especially because of what she was, and he knew she'd have died trying in the process, such was her tenacity. The fact that he knew this in himself gave himself justification for not even testing her in the first place. Keno however had of course lied through her teeth about the situation instead of just admitting what had happened, which lowered Kadajis' opinion of her all the more. Even on the rare occasions that Vanity had failed in her contracts she had always been honest and told the truth of what had really happened even if she thought it would reflect on her badly, which unknown to her had earned her a great deal more respect and trust.Locating Keno via her chip, Kadaji set about making alterations to it. He set it so that her tonics would be limited to no more than a few minutes and all her genetic modification would be null and void. She would feel the initial "hit" of the tonics as it were but it would burn out fast. The day she had lied about the contract, he had overheard her in the Elite Hunters' Lodge boasting and spouting all kinds of sh*t about how she could have taken on Merrick regardless of tonics and enhancers due to her ancestry and natural genetics. Well now's your chance Cassidy. Let's see what you're really made of he thought to himself as a sly grin crept across his face.If she proved herself, then he'd silently take his hat off to her and give credit where it was due, but if she failed as he knew and secretly wished she would, then Merrick would have done him a favour and saved him the trouble of dealing with her himself before she managed to wreak her chaos where Vanity’s' knowledge and awareness of what she truly was, was concerned.For the remainder of the time he awaited, Kadaji simply went about business as usual, his mind forever wandering to ideas of what may occur between Cross and Cassidy. Would he simply obliterate her? Maybe she would simply flee as she had before, perhaps Merrick may not finish the job and leave Keno to bleed out on the floor, maybe she'd survive his vicious bite and be turned into the very thing she feared the most. With a creature so skilled, cunning and strong as Merrick it was somewhat difficult to predict. Keno matched his strength, or did she? Perhaps like so many others she had become a little too dependent on her tonics and enhancers. While it was on his mind Kadaji also quickly set her chip to be immune to the effects of epinephrine too.Eventually Keno returned. No sooner was she through the door than Merrick’s senses and awareness of her kicked into action, whereas Keno seemed to be currently unaware of his presence in the other room, perhaps her senses were not so sharp as they were normally when her modification was active, or maybe she was just too wrapped up in the distractions of her own ego feeding as she thought about her little plans regarding Vanity. It wasn't until Keno approached the bedroom door that her instinct seemed to kick in. Reaching for the door handle she suddenly stopped in her tracks, fingers curling back and recoiling with her hand, tilting her head a little as a frown burrowed into her forehead in suspicion.Keno didn't know what lay beyond the door awaiting her in the darkness, but she presumed it was Vanity. Little bitch she thought how the f*** you find me here anyway? A smug smile formed beneath her frown. Welcome to the lions' den bitch! she thought. Half of her couldn't believe her luck. Here was Vanity, and so too was the information she was going to reveal to her, well not right here, it was hidden in the lounge area. But still Keno had everything she needed right here, all her weaponry, all her tonics, all the information that would bring that arrogant little bitch whore to her own self-destruction.Keno stepped back from the door, biting her lip to prevent herself from laughing out loud. She had no need to go and get any extra equipment, she had everything she needed right here on her person. Taking a light orb from her pocket she swung the door open stepping away, back flat to the wall outside, gun-blade and throwing daggers in hand. She took out a couple of the high-tech syringes and dosed herself up with everything she had. She tossed the orb into the darkened room and turned her head as the glass shattered in a blinding flash, now Vanity was stunned and temporarily blinded she charged through the door screaming obscenities flicking the light on on the way. As soon as she saw movement, she threw the blades and fired a few shots and grabbed her sword. The first thing she noticed was her speed wasn't as fast as it should've been with the epinephrine, but the tonics still seemed to be working, her confidence deadened slightly she was determined not to give up. She needed to get that bitch restrained and immobile as soon as possible.The second thing she realised with a somewhat sicking blow was that it was not Vanity in the room but the one and only Merrick Cross. Her jaw dropped open in horrified recognition and she froze in sheer panic for a moment. F*** no! Confusion raced through her, why was he here? She didn't have time to think about it right now. She had no choice now, she had to fight or run, yet she still remained glued to the spot. She had more than likely antagonised him beyond all belief, he wasn't known to be the most forgiving or mild tempered Lycan by any means. The time that passed had been but seconds, but to Keno it felt like an eternity as she gazed upon her worst fear once more.Unlike Keno, Vanity had no idea who Merrick was, well she knew the name, breed and reputation through hearsay, but she had no idea what he actually looked like, also with so many rumours abound throughout the Elite Underground she usually paid little mind to what she heard as a lot of it did tend to turn out to be embellishing and exaggeration most of the time. Though that being said she also knew that there was rarely smoke without fire in the things that were said and there was usually some truth buried in amongst the mass of untruths that surrounded and encased it all, so she always took some of it on board but tended to take an approach of the I'll believe it when I see it kind of attitude towards things.Not long after Kadaji had had his fill of brutal entertainment at the hands of Merrick and the misfortune of Keno, he had contacted Vanity and journeyed with her to the hotel and the room he had previously been watching on the screens before him. He sent Vanity into the dingy kitchen area to search, distracting her from himself collecting the information that Keno had left hidden in the lounge, and distracted she was, he could hear her rummaging and rustling about making loud exclamations of her opinions regarding the cleanliness of the place. It was quite amusing to him in a way really; not that his fixed facial expression of continual seriousness ever gave away what was going on his mind. But for a girl that got her hands dirty on a daily basis with the work and killing she carried out he found her to be really quite squeamish when it came to the common dirt and filth such as that that she was now encountering in the kitchen."Nope. F*** all interesting in there. Unless you count multiple bacteria and its' surrounding breeding ground as being of optimal importance" she said as she came through the lounge door behind him with a sneer of distaste twisting her face. "God this place is vile. I can't believe people actually pay to stay in places like this. Not at least without a tetanus jab first anyway. It needs f***ing fumigating. It'd be like paying to expose yourself to disease"Kadaji simply turned his head and looked at her with a raised brow through his pale hair. "Yes, well, not everybody is quite so well off or advantaged as you Jensen" he said in a flat tone. "Besides, I'm sure you've encountered worse in your time""Ain't that the f***in' truth" she half scoffed as she eyed the room about her with an air of utter disgust. "Still it aint that f***ing expensive for a bottle of bleach is it?" She placed her hands on her hips and huffed. "You find anything in here? What you bring me here for anyway?"Kadaji didn't answer, he just looked at her. It wasn't an unusual reaction for him, in fact any reaction would be unusual really, he was one of those that said little more than was needed and he rarely, if ever, stepped out from his self-contained professionalism. It was but one of the many things Vanity admired about him, his self-control and focused clarity in situations was second to none. No matter what he was presented with he always seemed cool, calm, collected and unfazed in a way that bordered on utter indifference. Even on the rare occasions that he seemed angry or frustrated etc he was always completely restrained."Emotion can be your greatest enemy. Know this. Understand it and understand it completely. Do not let it rule you OR your judgement. YOU are the one that is in control of your emotions; not the other way around. To misunderstand, misuse or ignore this can lead you to fatality" Kadajis' words of wisdom rang through her mind as they often did, triggered by thought patterns and such; sometimes consciously and other times unconsciously as if somebody had pressed a switch inside her head. Kadajis' varied teachings seemed ingrained into the very folds of her brain tissue as if he had carved them in with his own hand. Deep routed and practically impossible to ignore or forget no matter how hard you might try at times to push them aside. Not that she'd want to really, they explained far more than they actually said, they could very often be a life saver and at the very least they were exceptionally good advice.The bathroom and bedroom were the only places left to enter and search. Due to Kadajis' lack of informing and his silence in regards to answering her questions, she knew better than to ask again or press the issue further, it wouldn't make him any more revealing or forthcoming if she did, she would simply receive the same look and silence as she had already. Whatever it was she was there for or looking for she'd know when she found it, if he'd have thought it necessary to enlighten her any further then he would have told her more, such was his way of doing things. For all she knew it could be one of the Elites' random tests, if so this one would probably be a test of her observation skills, and thus it was better for her to eradicate any distracting questions, ideas or assumptions of the situation etc from her mind and focus on whatever it was that she was supposed to be doing.She sauntered through the small lounge area past her superior, glancing around the room and noting that there seemed to be nothing there that looked new or out of place. Yeah, Kadaji hadn't said he'd found anything interesting, but he hadn't said he hadn't found or noticed anything either. Again like a switch being pushed his words rang through her head. "Just because somebody or something tells you or leads you to believe that something is a fact or truth doesn't make it so. Likewise the same can be said if they say the opposite or nothing at all. Wherever possible do not give in to assumption. If you are to assume anything, then let it be that you know nothing. ALWAYS keep an open mind"On some occasions Kadajis' words and teachings were confusing or contradictory to certain extents, but she had learned quickly enough to just take them on board and accept them, to apply them where was appropriate or needed in various situations, to read between the lines or whatever. To question and challenge him, though he was pleased and welcoming whenever such questioning arose, would simply bring about the sentence "And there in lies the paradox. For every rule there is one or more exceptions. Use your initiative" As Vanity approached the bedroom door Kadaji was immediately at her side watching her every move. She presumed that he already knew there was nothing to be feared here or he'd have gone ahead of her and swept all areas on their arrival to the hotel room to make sure the coast was clear throughout. (She wondered briefly if she should mention this. If it was indeed a test of observation then she wanted him to know that she had observed this) Or would he have done that? Maybe he had purposely not done such a thing to see if she would enter into an unsecured domain, which she had, and hence silently kicked herself for this mistake right now.The door was ajar slightly and standing back a bit she grabbed for a weapon and pushed the door open a little further. Her attention and focus on what she was doing left little room for her to notice how Kadaji was watching her like a hawk and monitoring her reactions. She armed herself with her gun-blade; her favourite weapon of choice these days due to it being a weapon that was excellent for both far and close up attack. The chamber held six bullets, of which there were two silver, two gold and two average with a cross carved in the end, Vanity had found over the years that it proved best to have a bit of everything regardless of whether you knew what you were up against or not. Stepping back she pushed the door open a little but stayed away from it. She didn't need to even enter to notice the sprays and splatters of blood up the walls, she could already see it, and the smell of had already previously hit her nostrils as soon as she had reached the doorway. Cautiously she entered, another sneer of disgust spreading across her features and her jaw dropping as the horrific scene was unveiled before her. "Jesusf***mechrist!" she said as she looked at the bloody carnage and tattered remains left on the floor of somebody, or something, it was hard to tell what it had been at first glance really. She checked over the room and made sure there was nobody or anything in any of the hiding places there in before returning her attention to the shredded corpse at her feet. Crouching down and frowning she put on some latex gloves, put her gun-blade away and pulling one of her longer knives out she began to poke and prod at the bits of flesh as she moved them around. The face and body were unrecognisable, the only thing she could tell was that the victim had been black. At first she couldn't even tell if the victim had been male or female. From the entrails and innards that were strewn about she presumed the victim had been human, or at least of the humanoid variety, or in their human form when they had been slain so brutally.As she moved the remains around something caught her eye in the light. Broken glass. She looked at the window but there wasn't even a crack in it. Reaching for the blood-stained glass she held it up and looked more closely, her frown deepening as she recognised the remains of what she thought may have been a light orb. Putting the glass back down she got down on her hands and knees and began to search through the remains with her gloved hands in an almost frantic motion, tossing body parts all over and routing about in them. It wasn't long before her ideas were confirmed as she found several pieces of Elite weaponry and empty vials of gene tonics hidden amongst the mass before her.She turned to look at Kadaji as he was wiping off congealing blood that Vanity had inadvertently splattered on him as she'd been in her frenzied search. "First thoughts Jensen?" asked Kadaji as he looked back at her."Well, whoever it was. I think it was one of ours" she said as she continued to pick through the mess and organic debris, her eyes widening as she spotted something she recognised beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Holy f***!...I think it was Keno!" she said lifting up a finger with a golden ring on it. "Look. This ring is hers, it was the one handed down through her tribe ancestry" She put the finger aside and grabbed what was left of the upper arm and began wiping the blood away. "Yeeeaaah, it was Keno alright" she verified as she recognised the matching tattoo on the arm, holding it up for Kadaji to see.She almost f***ing laughed out loud. But at the same time she felt a slight remorse that her main rival was now gone, slaughtered at the hands of another. Vanity had wanted to end Keno herself really but to kill fellow Illuminati was forbidden unless you were given permission or contracted to do so. So she had always just made do with publicly humiliating her and out doing her at every chance she got. She even wondered for a moment if she would give so much effort now that she had no Keno to contend with. "Is this what you brought me here for?" she asked Kadaji with a slightly confused look on her face. Kadaji nodded at her. "I wanted you to see first-hand what you'll be up against"Vanity’s' face filled with surprise. "What I'll be up against?" Oh God please don't tell me I have a contract to avenge the death of Keno. she thought. If so, she couldn't quite decide if it was irony or insult.Again Kadaji nodded. "Yes you are to find the being that did this to Keno and bring it back to us...alive" "Alive! Are you f***ing joking?!" the question was rhetorical, Kadaji was never one to joke. She exhaled heavily and shook her head. "So why did we search the place. Why not just bring me straight to this room and show me seeing as you seem to already know about all this""Well you will need some form of lead wont you? A creature like this is not easily traced or found you know" he said with a serious expression. "A creature like what?" she said looking back at the pools of blood and the shattered bones she was still half leaning over."You tell me" he said. "What do you think caused this?""Knowing all the different sh*t we deal with, it could be f***ing anything!" she said as she began to scrutinise what was left of Keno and look around the room and investigate her immediate surroundings a bit more. "Well, I'd say it was big, powerful and fast. Possibly some kind of were-creature. I'd say Lycan at a first guess due to what looks like coarse strands of Lycan fur amongst this blood and also a little between her fingers. It was alone I'd say due to the pattern of claw and teeth marks that are left on the pieces that are still barely intact. Whether or not it took her by surprise is hard to tell coz she's fired off shots and thrown knives but none seem to have hit and the bullets in the wall aren't silver. Her tonic vials are empty which suggests she anticipated a fight or attack but like I say the bullets aren't silver so I don't think she'd have willingly gone up against a Lycan without loading silver bullets first, especially considering her fear of them, but I doubt a different were-creature would have gotten the better of her like that, seeing a Lycan she would have panicked and may have missed her aiming due to that" she paused for breath and continued. "There are shards of light orb on the floor, but the light was already on when we came in so she must have thrown it in first or she may have dropped it during the onslaught, if she dropped it, that could have been what startled the creature and made it leave in a hurry maybe. But I dunno coz different breeds of Lycans attack differently, but the heart has been left in tact...ish" She rubbed at her forehead with the back of her arm and huffed. "F*** knows" she said. "But I'd say Lycan. Dunno what kind though, never seen one leave a mess like this before. But as I say, it might have left in a hurry. Not disturbed by anyone else though or it would have been reported and the place would be swarming with police and forensics by now"Her mind was swirling with all kinds of ideas and possibilities. What are the chances of that? she thought to herself. What ARE the chances of Keno dying at the hands of her worst fear? F***ing madness it is. Was it coincidence? A set up? If a set up, then who could she have been set up by? An anti-Illuminati group? Most groups didn't exorcise their activism through the use of creatures though. Perhaps it was the Illuminati themselves, maybe an Illuminatus that had gone renegade? Her head was practically hurting with theories and ideas, she hated the beginning aspects of things like this, she preferred to be just handed a contract that already outlined most things required etc.On cue Kadaji handed her a contract chip and she clicked into her ISS (Information Storage System). It was a welcome distraction and she scanned and scrolled through the info that came up on the screen. "Well f*** me sideways" she said as she spotted the name of the creature to be brought back alive. "Merrick f***ing Cross. So he does actually exist then" 


02/17/2021 03:26 PM 


Bowie grabbed some lunch before heading to the post office to post off the large boxes of bouquets, that had been ordered for an event in Chicago. It was a big business deal. She had worked with the company before, so was more than happy to work with them again. It had been a lot of work, and had taken bowie a lot of time and effort.  Now that it was finally done she was relieved. She just hoped they liked her work like they did the last time. Although Bowie knew she was a good florist, she still had an ounce of self-doubt… a small part of her that always questioned whether she was good enough or not. She was her own worst enemy. As she stepped out of the post office into the cooling air, she zipped up her jacket to block out as much of the breeze as possible. She glanced around, taking in the people around her. Being careful where she stepped to try and avoid those who were hurrying along about their business.As Bowie looked up she noticed cloudy skies rolling in. It was late afternoon and everyone around her seemed to be in a rush. People darting around in and out of shops, staring down at their phones bumping into people because they were not looking where they were going. It was a fast paced world we lived in and people never seemed to take the time to stop and take in everything around them. After being pushed and shoved multiple times, Bowie was beginning to get a little angry. She could not believe how rude some people were. Manners cost nothing, and it was not hard to say excuse me… although some people lacked manners. She sighed to herself and retreated into Darling Buds, and reopened the shop. As she did so a group of teenagers came in and decided to mess around and trash the place before running out. They had tossed the buckets over leaving the flowers strewn over the floor in different heaps. Water soaked the ground. Some flowers had been trampled on, the petals now limp and separate from the flower itself. Flowers had been kicked around, and they had knocked things off of her display on the counter. It was a frustrating situation, but she couldn’t exactly hit a kid. She did not feel like a trip to jail today.She spent an hour cleaning up the mess and serving rude customers in between. People berated her because her shop looked a mess, and would not listen to her when she explained what happened. Bowie had worked extremely hard setting up her business, and she hated it when someone ruined it for her. She did not know why the kids had decided to target her place, then again a lot of businesses had been messed with over the last few weeks. They were clearly bored and had nothing better to do than mess with someone’s lively hood. This was not just a hobby for Bowie, it was her life. She took pride in her work, and now everything just looked a mess and it broke her heart.She finally gave up. She had, had enough today. ‘Man I need a drink’ she thought to herself.  She headed home and showered before getting changed. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She grabbed her phone and texted her friend ‘Hey wanna meet up at Country Strong for some drinks?’ she typed before hitting send. She went and sat on the couch and began watching Legally Blonde as she waited for a reply. 

The Sword of Damocles

02/17/2021 03:25 PM 

Writing Sample - Hela's Prologue

[Taken from the rl writing project metioned on my profile]    Prologue - Lost in Translation  Have you ever written something and then had it translated into another language? It changes does it not? Not completely, I mean the essence remains, I suppose; It is still understandable right, but it is different. Let us say you then took that translation and had it re-translated back into your own language. Changes again doesn’t it? Now let’s say you repeat that process via a multitude of languages and translations over a millennia or two. You can see where I’m going with this right? - Complete and total bastardisation!   This is understood to many degrees, and as humans it is in your nature to sift through the semiotics and allegories of myth, legend and spiritual practices alike. To search for the true or hidden meanings and moral teachings; for an inspirational perennial philosophy or sometimes even just for an interesting or entertaining story.  But alas, the human mind and its perceptual abilities cannot think much further than what it has already learned from previous experience or indeed, secondary information however it may have been gleaned. You look back on tales of Gods riding chariots of fire through the skies, and today you may say Aliens and UFOs. Creatures and Beings too fantastical to even contemplate, and you may say Mutants or Apparitions. Or likewise many would even say impossible! - Their minds are not even willing to take the smallest leap of faith on anything, and that is each individual’s choice. It is a Universal Law that Earth is a free will zone, despite the efforts of some to change such.  But what if in fact the opposite were true and these beings were, or are, actually Gods? Your creators even. And when you think along the lines of such omnipotent deities, doesn’t it ever make you wonder /why/ there are so many similar yet varying pantheons and why some seem to repeat the same kind of pattern and story, yet others are completely different. Did you ever stop to think this isn’t the first or only version of Earth that you’re standing upon now?  You think it is by chance that you are the only physical beings in your entire galactic arena? It is by chance alone that you stand upon what is commonly referred to on your scientific circuit as ‘The Goldilocks Planet’ - not too hot, not too cold, but just right? You really think it was not by design that the Moon is so perfectly placed and terraformed and has such an effect on the world and its people below? You think The Universe is mathematically perfect in every way, as it infinitely repeats its cycles; the Fibonacci Sequence, The Golden Ratio in its divine proportions, its fractal curves and paradoxical realities, merely by coincidence? You think I ask too many questions? Well, I think maybe /you/ should ask more. Multiple dimensions, alternate realities, worlds within worlds, tales of divine creations and interventions, apocalyptic destructions and rebirths are repeated time and again throughout all of your human histories and mythological legends. So much has been lost in translation, that you think of all of these tales as old and from the past; not many have really considered the possibility of them actually being present or forthcoming prophecies yet to unfold within your own lifetimes, or perhaps that everything may be working its way backwards or could be an inverse version of what you believe to be reality. You pay little mind and even less attention to most save for the apocalyptic parts; and do not worry, you shall not be disappointed on that front, for one day just as it always has, everything will indeed end.  But not just yet. As they say, Rome was not built in a day, nor does an apocalypse happen overnight (Well, not usually - although it is by no means impossible). These things usually tend to build and escalate to a climatic apex or zenith over time, as The Universe likes to give everything a chance to change its mind or current path, and indeed it also needs to try and accommodate what is asked of it in a way that attempts to work for the greater good of all, and regardless of dimension and realm, signs will be present and become apparent. Whether you have learned to read and understand them or not, well, unfortunately, that responsibility falls to you as the individual. The Great Ascension is coming whether you like it or not.  There is not that much I am allowed to tell nor indeed able advise you on it all. You have been given the dots, it is up to you to make the connections. ‘God helps those who help themselves’ as the expression goes. ‘Ask and thou shall receive’ but ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ Or rather in its original translation - Be mindful and aware upon that which you focus, for the Law of Attraction is a Universal Law (there are a few) that states that like attracts like on a vibrational level. That is not to say that opposites don’t attract either of course, but that is usually due to some sense or need of balance or something the other seems to pick up on, or sometimes just through manipulative intention of one or both parties.  Healers seek to heal, no matter whether the one they are seeking to heal be good or evil. Lovers ignore the red flags that may one day appear as if to a bull in a china shop once they accept them as reality. Darkness and negativity breeds more of the same, tainting and infecting all in its path, likewise light and positivity to do the same. The power crazed seek to rule and consume, and those that seek to be ruled and are content to be submissive will fall at its feet in fear, awe and worship, others will rise up against them and fight until there’s nothing left to fight for and nobody left to fight. Some content, or indeed intent, on just watching their world burn, and so the variations continue. You stretch duality to its limits, taking everything to the extremes of one thing or another, but it is the complex and complementary opposite that you really seek, for balance, for wholeness, regardless of your chaotic polarity or neutrality, yet so many of you confuse this. Maybe we do not make sense to you when we speak, be it through actual physical presence and interaction (well as much as the human mind can perceive of it) or via ‘Divine Inspiration’ as it were, for it is hard to explain such things clearly in human terms and your basic and limited languages, knowledge and understanding; despite the awesome extents your imaginations can reach. At times it is comparable to attempting to explain quantum physics to a baby.  And time does not work in a linear sense outside of certain perceptions, in much the same way as there is no real direction in outer space, so trying to place events in chronology of order also proves quite difficult. Your modern era of today has so many frequencies and signals running through its atmosphere and so many distractions, barely any of you hear us if we attempt to connect with you. Yet in the days of old you lack the knowledge and experience of your histories and sciences to draw upon as they are wild and unimaginable futures to the bygone civilizations; even the more advanced found much difficult to comprehend and interpret due to lack of comparison and inadequate conveyable articulation.  The Universe however, in basic terms, does not know the difference between right or wrong, it is all-encompassing, and all-inclusive, and therefore neither does it recognise dark or light or positive or negative as anything other than differences in vibration, it simply mirrors and sends back to you whatever you pour the most energy and focus into. It does not recognise the difference between so-called ‘good’ and ‘evil’ for they too differ with individual subjectivity and experience. Moralities and ethics can turn to different shades of grey when you switch your perspectives. Imagine experiencing them all simultaneously!   One thing you should know however, is that whoever may show up in your life is there for a reason; usually for you to learn something from, or for you to teach something to. It is no different regardless of hierarchy and status. ‘As above, so below’ and vice versa. The microcosm reflects the macrocosm and again, vice versa. It is as simple as that.  I know that it can be very hard to accept the fact that /you/ are in fact the one responsible for most things that happen to you or come your way, and you are not alone in this denial. Just try and remember the things out of your control are happening /for/ you, not /to/ you. Try to stay balanced and neutral and aligned, to be grateful for what you have already received and place your focus and intentions in accordance with what you wish to further accomplish and manifest in your reality - and do not falter! You may be surprised by the results that ensue. All it takes is one small change and alteration in that universal pattern, just one out of tune notation in the orchestra of everything to affect the entire omniverse in a cosmic butterfly effect of altered vibration. For as cymatics teaches you all, everything is made from sound and vibration and therefore is affected by such. You are part of this orchestra and you can feel those off-chords, can’t you? Like something very important and much bigger than you is very wrong out there, or something is missing, lacking or hidden. It matters not whether that excites or haunts you as an individual, the fact is you feel it, no matter on the inner or outer level. And if you don’t then at some point surely you have or are likely to. Blessed be the ignorant, for they know not what lies in wait. To know or learn something is one thing, but to fully understand it is another entirely.  

Creative Multi

02/17/2021 02:46 PM 

Please go and check out Character Bio's  (Wynter Reign Devlin) (Deajah Rae Devlin)


02/14/2021 01:38 PM 

some words.

                                                                          ft. lj

⨺ Vanity of the Elite ⨺

02/17/2021 01:25 PM 

Another Writing Sample - Novella - My own cool custom sh*t

[this one also taken from rp with Haji]  Ooooh what did she know indeed. She knew a lot. A lot more than she actually cared to know at times. Sometimes the Elite’s atrocities would keep her awake all night, and not so much the ones of the inhuman kind, it was the ones Topside that worried her the most. The humans and the hybrids. F*** they were sickos. So eager to cause horror and trauma and pain to others, especially the innocent and vulnerable. What good would an innocent soul be to The Darkness, when innocence dies it returns to The Light? You may think. But a soul that dies in a vibrational torment is pushed into a different vibration upon death and all the terror and torture leading up to it. It is negative and dark in feeling. That is all the Darkness needs to grow stronger. Like a fire exhausting oxygen to breed and burn all in is path.    Those miscreants Topside didn’t know what was coming to them. Even those that followed and worshipped at the altars - misguided and consumed by ego, no room left for spirit, too much greed and power crazed hate, consumed by darkness entirely. So willing to f*** each other over and throw each other under the bus. F*** they sickened her. She was glad she knew the fates of many to come, it was sometimes the only thing that kept her ability to stay within the Elite’s tolerance laws, the main one most known to have been channeled to and spoken by Aleistair Crowley himself;    ‘Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.’    Now that statement could be taken and interpreted many ways, and it has been. However, as per usual the average human took that as liscence to do whatever the f*** they want without consequence. Stupid f***s. Yeah The Darkness may be protecting you here on Earth but you wait until you get to its own domain. Yeah you carried out its bidding but that isn’t going to spare you the eternal cruelty and torment - you still sinned in sickening ways you stupid evil f***s! And not only that, you did it intentionally, willingly and purposely, many for rewards that you already had during your petty lifespan on Earth. The Darkness owes you f*** all but it owns your eternal soul. And torment it it will. Hope whatever you sold it for was worth it.   Eternity is eternity, no breaks, no pauses, just constant unending pain and suffering on all levels of your being that you couldn’t even dare to imagine; over and over, relentless, never ending. NEVER ENDING! And the whole time you’ll know you deserve it and the whole time you will wish for death, and you’ll wonder why you’ve been so betrayed by your dark deities. It’s because the Darkness owns you, you gave yourself willingly, like a sacrificial whore, giving away your own power unto greater powers that you cannot even begin to comprehend, for the unseen world is far greater than that of the physical and visible world your petty minds can perceive, and it is so much more real than what you call your reality here on Earth in your pathetic five-sense limitations of the world. You really do all deserve to die you know. Most of you know it too. For what do you actually have to offer the world in any positive sense, that can’t be found a dime a dozen elsewhere? You think you’re special and you stand out from the crowd? HA! Meat Puppets are such f***ing idiots.    But yes, back to what the narrator was originally trying to tell you - What did Vanity know indeed? - She knew a lot. Too much. In truth Vanity had probably /forgotten/ more than most people actually knew.   Haji was indeed playing a very dangerous game. More dangerous than he realised if he did but know it, which she very much doubted he did if he’d actually /chosen/ to get himself involved in all this. At least Vanity was well aware of the complete f***ery she was involved in. And he was not only playing a dangerous game with Vanity, Iran and Turkey, there was also every other global conspirator, leader, terrorist, occult extremist, in the world, and beyond that too. Everyone that knew of this thing's true power was after this artifact. EVERYONE. They had been for years. Even a few who just desired it for collector’s and research purposes. The contents of that suitcase in the wrong hands could literally rip the very universe asunder, if it was utilised incorrectly or with malicious intent.   Haji was not alone in this dangerous game, as was she with what she actually had in mind. Unlike most of her kind, and indeed the Almegan Godheads themselves who were so very interested in the future. Vanity and Jin and co. were much more concerned with the past; for it was the past that was where the true secrets lay in their original organic formulations, not in the future. The future was obvious for the most part. The Elite mostly orchestrated most of it anyway. But Vanity and her fellow defectors sought to treat the cause, not the symptom. To find the root of how and where it all started. The information and histories that had been wiped from existence.    Only Jaini the Atlantean knew these things. She was the Keeper of Secrets, but she had taken a vow of silence many years ago on such matters, and neither would she write answers for you, as that too would be revealing secrets. Jin’s ability lay with needing the touch of blood upon his murderous fingers, and had still not quite honed the ability to look to the past and still kept coming up with future predictions, this was something that frustrated him more with each passing day as was evident by the increase of animalismitic violence he’d been leaving in his wake of late, and the ever growing collection of trophy bones that piled ever higher in the corner of their ossuary ritual room beneath Wired.   Vanity and Kain however, along with others were very well versed in decoding semiotics, allegories and metaphors when it came to certain aspects of the occult and the Elite’s symbology both ancient and modern. Kain being the main expert where artifacts were concerned, but this was only one of at least thirteen of these bastard talismanic artifact bullsh*t things they had to collect. And now what, ‘cause some nosey Turk didn’t trust his government, she was f*** knows where, with f*** all she’d came for and running behind schedule, any more d*cking about  and she’d be in the danger zone herself with her own kind; which incidentally posed her a much greater threat than some pissy human trained field experts.    She paid close attention to his body language too, more so the look in his eye. Not nervous, just… ambivalent.    If he had any Elite Reptoid in him she was unable to sense it, but then again those that had been away from the Elite’s central epicenter could fade and reclose genetic gateways, as if Topside society somehow tamed them. If Almegan then his genetics laid dormant, as when she’d watched his eyes she had not noticed the inner lid when he blinked. Though granted from this distance it could be missed.   As he scoffed at her words. She gave a soft shrug and knowing smile in return.   “Impossible! I’ve seen the Holy Grail with my own eyes!”   Vanity’s brow frowned for a split second at his words. She almost burst out laughing. “Nothing is impossible.” She didn’t believe him or disbelieve him really, it didn’t matter either way. Seeing it was one thing, knowing what it really was and what it really did was something else entirely.    “So you’ve seen it. And do you know it's true power then? Have you touched it? Have you felt it? Drank from it and tasted its power? Or simply seen it? Do you understand it? Do you speak it’s language?” She looked him up and down as if scanning him. “I don’t think so.” She remarked with a cocky smile.    A cocky smile that faltered as she was taken aback by his next choice of words. Blinking at him a moment as the words sank in. He was a truthseeker, and he was risking himself not to keep this treasure for himself but to keep it away from the very hands she and her companions were also trying to. He was entrusting her, a stranger, with the very thing they had both sought to steal from his own people and establishment in the first place. Did that make him an ally?   She looked at him with sincerity as she headed over to him briskly and picked up the case. “What we have here sugar tits, is worth more than the world itself. I’m telling you, the most truthful way to describe this artifact, is to call it The Holy Grail. It’s always been called that by our kind. People just don’t know what it really is. If what you say is true then we clearly don’t have the time for me to explain the rest right now. So cut the tracker and let’s go!”  

⨺ Vanity of the Elite ⨺

02/17/2021 01:18 PM 

Writing Sample - Novella - My own cool custom sh*t

    [Taken from rp with Haji]  Oh it could be a chalice; that and many other things depending on the will and skill level of the wielder. “Truths of the world.” Truths! She would have laughed out loud if she could have read his mind. There was no such thing as truth anymore. Or likewise one could say, there were /too many/ truths. She admired his level of defector and curiosity, not to mention courage, more than he realized if he had but known it. On a level of Vanity’s ethnicity, it was debatable to say the least. As were her actual origins. But it was unknown to her. She believed herself to be no more than a genetically modified human.   She frowned at his command and watched with a fascinated interest. What was that he was doing? Manipulating particles? Space time fabric? Reality itself? She had seen others display such abilities in the past but none outside of certain organisations and societies. As his brief smirk settled back into seriousness, she just looked at him in a questioning silence that was quickly replaced by a raised brow look of surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again, instead, nodding and giving herself a look of ‘okay, we can do this.’ As she opted to run now and figure the details later.   After getting into a particularly flashy vehicle that Vanity was explicitly insistent they get into. They drove away at a ridiculous speed, Vanity’s eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead beneath a serious frown of concentration as she weaved and skidded round the various vehicles around them, before suddenly veering off road and through the forest ahead. Talk about couldn’t see the woods for the trees; that’s all she could see, trees.    She continued to whip through them on some unseen route or pathway that seemingly only she was aware of. She squinted against the clatter of branches against the metallic exterior and the breaking crunch of woodland flooring beneath the sheer weight of the car. Suddenly they hit a clearing, where she handbrake turned, the car skidding sideways towards the sheer drop of a ravine, the car skidded right to the end, but it did not stop, it slowed, but it kept going, and dropped off the end.    As gravity affected the body before the being within, it felt like the drop off of a roller coaster but wise no rise along the fall, just the fall, which felt like forever. Then just as one might have accepted to meet their fate Wylie Coyote style, they landed with a loud crunch. Vanity looked at Haji with a cheeky amused grin and got out striding over to the sheer surface of the rock wall that faced them and drew some invisible glyph on the surface.    Seemingly from her fingertip there spread a strange kind of liquid static if you can imagine such a thing. Like an oily watery shiny digital cloud. At the same time the nanocytes in the car began to react, almost as if the particles vibrated, these seemed a little more solidified than the liquid crystal as they systematically disassembled their structure and drifted to meet with the growing pool beneath her invisible mark. It mingled and merged and interacted with itself, seeming to be able to increase its size regardless of the relatively small amount of particles it consumed.    In no time at all they were standing before what was clearly an entrance into some kind of tunnel or cavern, and what was not so clearly some kind of transport device that resembled a large black bullet. Hence the name “The Black Bullet.” She said, almost introducing it to the spotlight. It did actually have some weird scientific name and another name that she couldn’t remember that was of one of the ancient tongues.    It was a rare occasion she got to introduce a newcomer to Fallen Eden, and it would be interesting to see how somebody that was not aware of their subterranean existence and the inhabitants therein, would respond. Fallen Eden was a very different world to that of the topsiders above. And something in her was already enjoying the showmanship of the reveal as it were. So used to keeping secrets and accepting abnormalities as the average, it was refreshing to once again see their world with a freshened somewhat enthused perspective of the awe that lay ahead.  “It’s quantum particles or nanobots or some alien tech sh*t, f*** knows, not my area. But they only react to each other when in close vicinity.” She raised her eyebrows with a smile and motioned to the hybrid shuttle car thing that had appeared next to her. “That’s like some real life Men in Black sh*t right there, right?” She laughed lightly as the door seemingly evaporated and she stepped inside, motioning Haji to follow her.   Once inside the interior seemed to work like a two way mirror, though reflective in appearance on the outer side of the Bullet before it camouflaged itself again, from the interior you could see the full 360 degrees around the interior into the outside.  Vanity quickly sat herself down, and began d*cking about with the holographic type CGI display that floated between her and the flat and shiny dashboard before her. A myriad of symbols and patterns in different colours appeared before her which she navigated with ease and it was not long before they were on their way.    As they swiftly travelled the tunnels, she explained to Haji that the catacombs were one of the ways in which to enter their domain and by sure the safest. She also explained that they would have to make a quick stop off along the way to have Haji implanted with a temporary veri-chip as not having one would mean he couldn’t pass between the barriers as they approached the more central realms. They were to meet where the central catacomb cluster met the outskirts, the magnetic readings there were sporadic at best and could confuse readings. The Outskirts were pretty much left to their own devices anyway.  

total divas, rpg.

02/16/2021 08:52 PM 

current members.

Vivianne Briar Logan // Playby: Lana. Nicole Valdez // Playby: Nikki Bella. Renee Paquette // Playby: Renee Young. Lyla Javar // Playby: Scarlett Bordeaux.


02/16/2021 08:50 PM 


(This is a difficult character to make a playlist for, but I gave it my best. Here's a ━━very short━━ list. ) ━━Moments In Love, Art of Noise━━I'm Your Doll, FKA Twigs━━Sposa son disprezzata, Cecilia Bartoli


02/16/2021 08:49 PM 

writing Sample - Novella - Norse Crossover -AU

Taken from an rp with Lord Mischief/rl writing project.[Asgard - Peak of Mount Hnitborg - Twilight]   The sky filled with a myriad of magical hues and hazes as Draven looked down upon the whole of Asgard from their mountainous vantage point. The remainder of the day clung to the Golden Towers at the centre of the Eternal City, before losing its grip and slipping over the edge of the world alongside its inexhaustible oceanic waterfalls. As the twilight set in, and the temperature began to drop, the mist meandered through the mountains, sinking into the lush valleys and forestry below. Creatures of the day gave way to creatures of the night, and the darkness of space seemed to expand and close in at the same time. The warm breeze fluttered the fallen strands of her hair as she looked at the picturesque scenery that stretched as far as the eye could see. At its midst the golden cylinders that made up The Eternal City. Central Asgard. Did she miss it? - Sometimes. She had at one point, but she was over that now. She had accepted her fate of solitude as it were. Their abode was no small dwelling by any means; for all his lack of feeling, Baldr still had the lavish tastes of an Asgardian prince and save for the handmaidens and servants, he liked to be kept in the style he had become accustomed to over so many centuries previous. Their home consisted of the entire peak of Mount Hnitborg; the highest mountain top, and from the outside it looked no different. The hollowed-out interior however was actually several floors deep and consisted of many more rooms than they actually really needed for just the two of them. This room however was her favourite. The library. Floor to ceiling with beautiful books from all of the Nine Realms. Rows upon rows of precious knowledge for her peruse at her leisure. She would sometimes sit for hours and hours on the balcony just reading. Some were written in languages and ciphers she did not understand at all, but that did not stop her attempts at decoding and translating them. She returned her attention to the book in her lap, fingertips trailing as they so often did across the remnant tufts of parchment where pages had been torn out. Sometimes they were sharp as if they had been cut, and other times there was simply the ever so slight gap of where they had once been, or a jump in the numbers at the bottom.  She assumed these were pages that contained information on the Hidden Thing. - The Loki. She had heard the word whispered behind closed doors like some strange conspiracy. Had even dared to ask about it once. Only to be met with a backlash of Baldr’s violent, growling tantrums as he accused her of all manner of treacherous and treasonous acts just for repeating the word. This had also been punctuated with repetitive and vicious, barking snarls of how no good could ever come from ‘that thing’ and finally resulted in her being thrown into solitary confinement in the faraday cage and being forbidden from ever mentioning it again; which of course only fuelled her curiosity to further degrees. It was the fact they went so out of their way to conceal this information from her. Regardless of what it was about. That, and the fact Baldr had all but lost his mind since his strange ‘prophetic’ dreams had begun. Almost every book over the last millennia or more was like this. They hadn’t been that way before. She was beginning to think Ragnarok was a conspiracy invented in order to keep everyone in fear and under control.  If Ragnarok appeared as a threat to the entirety of Asgard, rather than just its Rulers and Leaders, then the citizens and warriors would be more eager to fight and die for their kingdom, ever since it was decreed that a warrior's death lead you to Valhalla in preparation for the oncoming battle to end all wars, the people that had taken up arms and chosen the path of battle has increased tenfold. Not to mention the rest of the citizens seemed more willing to overlook the bloodshed across the Nine Realms they left in devastation and revere it as heroism, revelling in their blood drenched bounties, as if that somehow justified it all.  If Ragnarok was truly such an apocalyptic threat and not just another rebirth or cycle blown out of proportion for Odin to expand his corruptive empires and legacies, and her kind were truly supposed to help or prevent this catastrophe, then why was she allowed no further information on so many things? Knowledge was power right? Know thine enemy and all that? Regardless of this Loki artifact or weapon or whatever it was, so much more was constantly withheld from her or left unanswered, vague elusive holes and incomplete information. And likewise, due to her very being and what she was, why did she not simply already know by instinct the way she had with things previously? There were blanks now, missing pieces of a puzzle she should be able to see the bigger picture of. She felt inhibited. Dampened. Diluted. And she blamed Baldr for it entirely.  Being Bound to Baldr was frustrating at the best of times to say the least. But it had not always been that way. At one point they had been in love for many years, or something close to it. She didn’t know how long they’d been bonded together now, it was hard to measure time in a dimension where it moved differently, two, maybe three millenia? It felt like one long single blur of a day to her. Of course, he had also basically been all she had ever known for the most part, save a few brief centuries. Unlike Gods and Humans and most other organically based beings, Draven’s kind were not born, nor do they have any kind of childhood. They simply have always been. Before that they exist in a dormancy in a place that nobody knows the whereabouts of, and they themselves have no memory of at all once they manifest and incarnate into the new reality they are called into. In any physical form any that have actually been found scattered through the realms have appeared as either a crystal statuette or some form of crystal type stone. In the hands of mortals they have the same effect as the One Ring has, and the crystal becomes as the most precious of possessions to them, it is a built in mechanism to aid in their concealment and protection; not to the point their owner would turn out like Gollum by any means, Crystallites in any form increase the abilities of those they are around. The same thing happens with any creature, and in the past they were also the reason for so many ‘enchanted’ weapons and talismans stories, due to them being augmented with these beautiful stones. In the hands of less average beings such as Mages and Gods, the ‘Precious Effect’ can vary, some get it, others don’t, but they too increase abilities even whilst in crystal form. Once they decrystallize, they are fully grown, intelligent, aware, and skilled among more attributes they hold. Just like a wild animal born with instincts of  knowledge and abilities that it has never been taught or shown. Crystallites were in tune with things, they had a strange DNA with many more than just 3 helixes, and as they evolve and level-up as it were, certain gateways in their genetics and such open and connections and alignments can be made, and when they do they work like a fibre optic connection and the Crystal becomes more knowledgeable as if information has been streamed or downloaded directly in them, and or their attributes increase. Granted she understood a great deal more about things and how they worked than she could actually articulate in language. For as Hela mentioned in the prologue, at times it is tantamount to attempting to explain quantum physics to a baby. But Draven could understand other languages that people could not, the language of cymatics, vibration, frequency and sound, among many other unusual things.  Also different crystals had affinities and talents with different things, Draven had an affinity with animals, she was particularly skilled in coercion and theft, lock picking, disguises, forgery and mimicry etc. She can move in complete and utter silence. She is a natural with herbalism, potions and poisons; though she is an absolutely terrible cook. She can also detect threats. On a level of magical ability she can not produce magic herself as such,  but she can absorb it, amplify it and return to sender pretty much unscathed by it in the process herself (depending on the magic used against her). She has a kind of magic of her own in many ways but she would not refer to it as magic herself. She too was naturally highly skilled when it came to combat. She is fast, focused, evasive, she is great with many melee weapons, particularly with blades, and she has a killer back-stab and incredible accuracy of attack. Unfortunately she is absolutely useless with a bow and arrow, though she has some skills where the Bo Staff is concerned.  She also has incredible stamina and can share the adrenaline of fellow battle companions as well as enhancing their abilities and resistance to attacks etc. Also due to her gymnastics and parkour abilities she is incredibly agile, and due to her basically being a living crystal also means she has great shock absorption in comparison to most. She also has a Charonte, which is very rare among her kind. A Charonte is basically like having a living tattoo as a guardian force or familiar, they can change shape and colour at whim, likewise they can remain completely hidden, it’s a type of creature that can shift between dimensional forms so can be physically in the 3rd dimension, also it can shift to being a two dimensional picture. Any higher or lower dimensional information about them is unknown and speculation alone. But they are said to be shy creatures who chose their wearers themselves, and are said to be extremely picky about doing such. Draven knew she had one and what it was but they decided to keep it to themselves and her Charonte remained invisible from view.  Over time Draven became privy to the information that she was a shard of something called ‘The Materia Prima’ and was also an Holistic Goddess which meant she was interconnected with all things, this was also something she had deemed best to stay quiet about as she had not heard the others make mention of such. She’d probably just levelled up a bit more than them due to the amount she fought and studied more than them and they would all know the same soon enough. And they all seemed to speak often enough when they had new information or abilities to brag about. Draven preferred to keep hers to herself, even if asked she would remain elusive and vague, or shrug like she had no clue or opinion that really mattered.  The other Crystallines were happy enough with this, they didn’t really care, she was pretty much an outcast compared to the others, she did try to fit in for a while, but not that hard and not for long, she didn’t really care, for the most part they bored and irritated her, and she found very much uncommon between herself and the rest of them. Which also confused her as she found their actual species to be quite fascinating in general really, if she were not one herself and then met one of these lot, she would be most disappointed, in fact even as one herself she found herself disappointed. And just as with the Gods, they were not how you imagined them from the portrayals of pieces of legend strewn about. They were all so much the same in many ways, why was she so different? Not that she wanted to be like them by any means, she just wished they could be more like her sometimes was all. Especially the backstabbing. I mean Draven was a master with the back-stab as an actual move during fighting, it could have been a trademark deathblow if it weren’t for some of others she had pulled off, but when it came to being two-faced about each other, these bitches left her standing. Such treachery among their own kind. Granted it was a competitive level and ‘all is fair in love and war’ as they say, hail to the victor and all that. But personally she found it quite shocking and revelatory, as well as incredibly repulsive.   The more she kept to herself, the more she was glad she did, as she watched the competition growing and power struggles and arguments that began to ensue. She had also taken to the preference of listening to the others and what they all had to say about their own and each other; of course singing their praises to one another to their faces while secretly bitching about each other behind their backs. They didn’t care if Draven was quiet or didn’t involve herself in their conversations and social activities, her opinion was worthless to them at the best of times, irrelevant even, and despite her apparent and obvious beauty she was indeed the ugly duckling of the pack in comparison to the others of her kind, and they didn’t much seem to like her anyway. She cramped what they thought was their style or something maybe. Not that she cared, even their harsh and unnecessarily cruel remarks and snarks at times were as water off Draven’s ugly duckling back. She didn’t give a f*** about their opinion of her either or what they thought about anything for the most part. She was here to fulfill the purpose of evolutionary status, achieve immortality and strength beyond measure and fight in Ragnarok to save Asgard and hopefully Midgard in the process.  During classifications of the elders and such, Draven had been referred to as an empath of kinds, and I suppose that’s the simple way of putting it isn’t it. She indeed was, but on a much greater level than most, which she had found quite disorienting for the first couple of centuries or so. It had taken her a long time to learn to distinguish all the different feelings, frequencies and sounds, especially the ambiguity of those that came with contradictory words and actions, and even more so the ones that held no outward expressions at all. But sometimes it was like she could see inside people, and a lot of the time she didn’t like what greeted her aural eyes. The others of her kind seemed to only half understand or be aware of it, she wasn’t quite sure what happened with them but it wasn’t the same thing she got, they tended to just absorb it all or something as if they were impressed by it. Like they humored the Gods by feeding their roles and stroking their egos to win favour. Draven could only assume they were covering all of their bases ready for when the choosings came.  It was like they held no foresight to any red flags or negativities they felt, if they even saw or felt them; like they were willing to accept any God regardless. Likewise the selfish egos and violent crass natures displayed by most, some of the Crystals even seemed excited by it, intoxicated even. But they were all originally manifested in neutrality, what was it that caused the others to act in that way, whereas Draven felt quite the opposite? She felt repelled. Perhaps they were intoxicated with power and attention. Attention for the most part embarrassed Draven depending on the attention of course and she could be quite shy in her earlier days, something that still came through here and there even after so many years. Needless to say, Draven had not been counted among those that looked forward with excitement to this whole Choosing and Bonding business. It was a necessity.  Although curious about it she was also sometimes a little envious that the other Crystallites could so openly and easily accept all these beastly deities on face value as well as embracing their darkness with such full wholeness. Draven didn’t feel resonance with them, she felt resistance. Just some more than others. Maybe there was something wrong with her. Perhaps she was cracked or broken or faulty in some way. Manifested misaligned perhaps. Though she worried about her kind also, as they were not only known to increase the abilities of others, they also absorbed them and further amplified them and it was reflected back and forth between the two. Once Bonded and initial alignments began it would only increase and escalate again, both would evolve at a faster rate and increase in power and abilities of all levels, and once the Joining took place and was successful then the possibilities were endless, and once at full evolutionary apex, they would both become immortal. All of her kind were supposed to help balance and, or align with a God. Due to popular misconception Gods are not immortal, they just have exceptionally long lifespans in comparison to that of humans. But the means to become immortal is by no means unachievable. The most popular way for Gods to do it is via means of Bonding and then Joining with Anomalous Crystals. However, as with everything, there are choices, possible consequences and guidelines for these things. First and foremost, it is the Crystal that chooses the God they most wish to Bind with themselves, however said God has the right of refusal of Bonding. If they agree, then trial periods and tasks are set, time would be spent together, they would fight and test how each other increased what and where by which amount, and again after that they would be asked if both were happy to continue with The Binding Ceremony. If not the selection process would begin again. If so the Bonding would take place, and after such the effects of amplified abilities etc would begin to evolve at a much steadier rate and differences can be more evidently seen and felt, they are more connected on a spiritual level too, such as being able to sense when the other is under threat or feel their mood. More so the Crystal as part of their job is to protect their Bonded and Joined, help absorb their pain and negativity, amplify their positivity and many more things, as well as fighting alongside them in great battles.   The others seemed to be treating it all as some kind of fairytale betrothment to your personal prince charming or something. But there was no law that stated one was to choose or Bond with one that you found attractive on any level and neither was there any mention of romance or marital attainments, and rightly so this was about war not love. She heard them twitter on about the Gods they found the most handsome or powerful and how they charmed them and such. Draven looked at them like they were idiots. Did they not realise it was obvious these Gods would also be vying for the attention of her kind in much the same way the Crystals were flaunting themselves at the Gods? “It’s not about that kind of compatibility or attraction!” Draven huffily snapped at them one day, sick of hearing the same repetitive nonsense time and again. The other girls of course shot her with snooty downcast glares and scoffed at her. “HA! What would /you/ know about attraction?! You’re the ugliest of us all!”  “Only on the outside.” Draven snarked back before, grabbing her weapons and leaving them to their self indulgent narcissism as she headed for the training area. Anyway, what did beauty achieve in battle other than being marred by the scars of blades that would be sliced across your face. They watched her leave, sneering about her lack of clothing, and choice of court jester type war paint, that made her look like a demonic china doll. Good. F*** them. Nobody was scared of pretty maidens in attractive armours, sluggishly swinging and defending themselves with shields. Useless once disarmed and faced with hand to hand combat. In battle Draven needed only 3 things - Herself, her blades, and anything else she could get her hands in the nearby vicinity. Armours didn't give her the freedom of movement and speed she needed at times. She could use swords and shields etc just as well as the rest of them, but she preferred her knives. Legend had said that the flesh of her kind was so tough that it was impossible to cut or pierce and that they had acid for blood. This was not true, yes their shock absorbency was incredible, and it was indeed harder than your average being to cut or piece their skin, or likewise to break bones, but it was by no means impossible, these days Draven was covered in scars, granted she healed quite quickly too, but it was not instantaneous without help. Where the acidic blood legend comes from is that her kind have multiple blood types and DNA etc when in the physical and to many, their blood can burn on contact with skin, humans always, other beings it can vary, it is also highly poisonous if it manages to enter the bloodstream of many. Those bitches could spend all day preening up to impress their chosen Gods, Draven however had decided to spend her time more productively and practice training for whatever battles and wars may come their way regardless of who she ended up bonded and joined with for The Main Event as it were. You see back then there was little known of Ragnarok other than it was said to be the end of the Aesir Gods. Prophecies, just like apocalypses, also do not tend to happen over night or come all at once, and instead information is drip fed, mostly in symbols and does not always come in the correct order, and we all know how dreams can distort perceptions. Back then there was no mention of Loki in these prophecies at all. Loki had not even been a twinkle in Laufey’s eyes, let alone the fully grown God he was today, when all this had initially begun. And what of the foresight and knowledge Odin has traded his eye for? Why was he seeking advice from the dead of Nifelheim? Shouldn’t he know? And what nonsense was this they bought into anyway? What good was Odin’s eye? A very small price to pay for all the knowledge of the universe wouldn’t you say? And what he learned drove him mad, even the mind of an Aesir cannot comprehend the perfectly ordered chaos of the Sacred Plan, it’s complexities go beyond understanding. And sure, if you were to just accept those paradoxes and such then you can learn to work with them and adapt along as they too change with the situations a hand. Odin however, sought to use it for control, used the information he was given, selfishly. Little had he known it had been a test. And he had failed. He could have used the knowledge to bring peace and wellbeing to all the realms, but no, he used it for war, power and control. Spreading fear and destruction,’the quest to conquer the realms’ a toxic obsession. When the time of the choosing came it had not been much of a surprise that so many Crystals had chosen the same Gods. Baldr being one of the most popular. All of her fellow crystals also found him incredibly attractive for some reason that she did not fathom for herself, and she often wondered what it was they saw in him that she did not. However, Draven had chosen Baldr for much more practical reasons. For a start he was the God of War, and that would definitely help where Ragnarok and all battles were concerned, and he was also the lesser of several evils as it were. Of them all he seemed to be the most kind hearted among other positive attributes. He was gentler by nature than the others and a great deal more charming; not that it was that difficult in comparison to the others, and he was a little but of an outcast himself.  In legends it speaks of  him as being a beautiful God shining with light that all revered as favourite, but this was not actually true. He was looked upon as weak for any mercy he showed and his caution and strategy was mistaken for cowardice and fear. Yet upon the battlefield he was unrivalled. His brutality sickening and ruthless, yet his form and technique both masterful and impressive. Draven knew how things were connected and she had noticed how he would not cause unnecessary suffering to his enemies, they were gifted with quick and timely deaths wherever possible. She found this an admirable trait. Just as Odin advised, he did not actively seek war but was always ready for it and prepared to step up to the mark when required and did what needed to be done regardless of his own personal opinions and feelings about it, just like a Grey Warden; you do whatever it takes to vanquish thine enemy  at all costs. It also showed great loyalty. Plus of them all she felt the most resonance, or rather the least resistance. Then again could she even trust her own judgements at this level of evolution and understanding of things? Regardless she had to choose someone so she had chosen Baldr. If you’re going to be bonded to someone for an eternity and have to try and find balance and compromise in ways that benefitted you both equally and would likely end up Joined and possibly sharing aspects of the self as well your skills and such then better it be him right? Granted she had not spent much time with any of the Gods really, and especially not alone, she had simply observed them all during social events and listened to what was said and how and such. But the other Crystals had, and although she did not trust their opinion and judgement on much, she also felt she had witnessed and heard enough herself to make a sound and logical judgement on. It didn’t feel right, none of it did, but he felt the most right of them.  Baldr in return chose a handful of those that had chosen him and dismissed the rest which would not go down well between them all at all, especially seeing as Draven had been one of the ones he had chosen. She was a little shocked herself in honesty. She had prepared a whole list in order of preference as she had really expected to be turned away many times before one had accepted her, and she too wondered why he had. Perhaps one day she would find out.  All of the crystals were given numerous trials testing them in numerous ways and likewise they were allowed to set certain trails for the Gods if they wished, though personally saw little point in this, even if it were to give some facade of equality, a God was a God there was little they would not be able to achieve unless it would likely be a real challenge that put  them in real danger and what if they failed or something went wrong, then there was one less God to fight The Darkness. The Crystals all passed many trials and tests and battles and whatever else was thrown their way and Baldr had trouble himself deciding between them. What none of them had expected was that Odin would then decree that they all battle each other to the death.  Draven’s mouth fell agape and she looked to the others who also seemed initially shocked by this, but then seemed to shrug it off as they instantly turned to enemies. I mean yeah, she didn’t particularly like them or they her, but still. She had to say something.  “Forgive me your majesty but that will only lead to less of us being able to battle in the long run. Even unbound and unjoined we can still evolve to some extremely high…” “SILENCE!” Odin bellowed, slamming his spear hard against the floor with such force it trembled the room along with his booming voice. “You will fight one another to the death or I shall eradicate you all myself right here and now.” Draven frowned so deeply at his words it actually hurt her forehead. He wasn’t bluffing either, she could feel the truth in his words, he meant it. Draven would have refused but the whole future of everything depended on preventing or defeating Ragnarok. And so she swallowed her pride along with utter disgust and agreed. She too was also quite sickened yet also a little impressed by the enthusiasm her other competitors had to shed the other’s blood and do away with their own kind, she was a little envious she didn’t feel the same. Her heart wasn’t in it. It wasn’t right. Nothing about killing her own kind felt right.  That was until the battle began, and it was not one on one either it was all of them simultaneously. Nine in all including Draven. Suddenly she felt their hate, their adrenaline and determination. They were psychotically murderous, out of control before they had even begun, but it fuelled her. She didn’t know how long the battle lasted between them all but it felt like both seconds and an eternity. Hate, rage, screaming, the flashing of blades and the sprays of blood; everything was happening so fast from all directions, half the time she didn’t even know who she was carving up, or kicking away, it seemed to be everyone from everywhere at once, a distorted blur of survival instinct and autopilot muscle memory. And as Draven stood blood drenched and panting, with the decapitated body of the last victim at her feet, she was thankful for all the extra training she had put in.  She stood there in silence a moment, a little disoriented and dazed. It took a few moments for the victory to sink in. She looked at the carnage around her and then to the huge crowd she hadn't even noticed that had gathered around. They stood open-mouthed and pretty much in silence, until Odin shouted something about her victory for Asgard, making her jump scare and the crowd roared into thunderous cheering and applause. She looked to the other Crystals, she could feel the relief of those Baldr had initially turned away, and she could feel the fear and awe of the rest of them. It wouldn’t be until later when she was alone that she felt the deaths of her own kind, but at the same time she felt such horrendous pain the void it left seemed to fill with something else. Something she wouldn’t realise until much further down the line was power. Everytime a crystal died, it made the rest stronger. And so Draven and Baldr were Bonded and remain so to this day. But these days, it was both a blessing and a curse that she was his Bonded. Any other Crystal would have cracked by now. At first things had been fine, they got along great, battled well together, were best friends that lead to more intimacy between the two and the to further involvement that drew them deeper into love, but as they battled and Odin’s plans grew worse and more gruesome Baldr began to have a crisis of conscience and rightly so with some of the things that were expected of him, and so it began with Draven taking on his pain for him when things got too hard, I mean they had to keep going, and so she would take the pain on for him, absorbing the negativity, the guilt, the self hatred, the everything and transmute it all best she could, but it was like he became addicted to it, he couldn’t handle any emotions and poured them into her constantly whether she liked it or not, and she were the one left to deal with it all. She took it all too, took the pain and suffering, cried enough tears to fill Asgard’s neverending oceans and tried to channel into positive ways, like training and battling it gave her release.  The whole of Asgard praised Draven for this and how she had helped increase his powers and abilities as they slayed their way through realms and destroyed worlds with seemingly no mercy or remorse. They didn’t feel what she did and they didn’t see what it did to him behind closed doors the way she did. Over time he’d poured that much into her vibrationally that he felt nothing anymore and she barely felt herself at times too. She tried to explain with great power comes great responsibility, and he had to accept the responsibility of his part in the warmongering he agreed to against his will and forgive himself, or simply not do it. Both of which seemed impossible solutions to Baldr. How could they align and balance like this? Immortality and complete evolution would be impossible. It wasn’t for the fact that the existence of everything was at stake here she’d have given up herself. And then the dreams started.  She couldn’t tell you how long they’d been together then, maybe a millenia or so, but the dreams. On and on he would go about dreams that he was going to die in all manner of ways. Wake up in the night screaming and shouting and throwing about like he was in battle in his sleep. Draven had taken to sleeping in one of the other many rooms they had, but no, he wanted her close, he wanted to see her there when he went to sleep and when he woke up. He never knew what was coming for him in his dreams, either that or he simply did not tell her but it terrified him. HIM the God of f***ing war. What in Nifelheim was coming for them? His paranoia only grew to new extremes and even in the safety of the mountaintop in solitude it got worse, now she was inflicted to having to spend each night in the inhibiting faraday cage in case she herself were going to do something. Which was only fuelled by the fact that she was the only one that could actually hurt him - Again, this was his fault, she was evolving without him and he couldn’t or rather refused to keep up, wallowing in negativity and low vibrations, but he’d just go on and on. These days she was all but numb to it.    Over the years she had tried everything and at times she could run a f***ing blade through him herself the way he made everything so difficult, he wanted everything done for him that was the problem, wanted a fairy god mother to wave a magic wand and make everything perfect, and true she could be like a genie in a lamp in the hands of a God, but they had to have better alignment. And of course he blamed her for it all, she caused it or provoked it, or amplified it too much or not enough or whatever f***ing reason his brain had decided upon for her fictional betrayal in his ever warping brain today,, and he didn’t exactly treat her the best either, which she thought a rather illogical move if one was paranoid one’s own protector and lover were counted among the suspects. Needless to say it had killed any love she’d felt for him long ago. She stayed for the sake of Asgard and Ragnarok, and besides, which other of her kind could balance this even as well as she was poorly managing too, they’d either break or make him worse. They’d made several attempts at the Joining ceremony but they were not aligned enough, again she was blamed for this. But it was his fault, it was not her fault that he chose to take the power to a dark place, believing it empowered him and gave him strength. Strength for what? More paranoia? It was while she sat there thinking of the craziness of it all that her senses were caught by something. Suddenly on alert she sat up and placed the book aside, as she focussed on the vibration she felt. It felt dangerous. Threatening. Hateful. Murderous? It was hard to tell, the vibration was far away but oh so strong, she could feel it on the wind. Something was coming for them. IT was coming for them, the nightmare, Baldr’s doom, it was coming. Right now? What? She grabbed her blades in a rushed panic and ran through the house screaming Baldr’s name. Where the f*** was he? The Nightmare thing was getting closer, moving swiftly. Again she tore through each level of the house screaming his name, until he finally appeared, shouting obscenities at her and starting an argument of some kind they really didn’t have the time for right now. She slapped him across the face with such force his head swung sideways. As he raised his hand to strike her back he noted the serious look on her face and lowered his fist. “It’s coming you f***ing idiot!” She screamed in his face. “Your Nightmare beast? Your Fate. It’s coming. Right NOW!” He immediately panicked himself rushing about the place and tooling up as he threw her questions about where it was and how long they had, which wasn't long.  As she felt it’s arrival she flew out of the hidden doorway into the mist, with Baldr at her side. They stood and waited. Draven’s mouth falling agape as she saw the beast materialise amongst the mist. A tall, large-horned demon in silhouette began to emerge from the mist like the Devil himself.  “Baldr,” She caught a flash of gold and green amongst the light. A reptoid perhaps? She drew her poison coated blades. “It is I, Loki.” Draven’s eyes widened. So this was The Loki, or rather just Loki as he introduced himself. Stepping forward she caught better sight of him; this was no demon or monster, his horns were merely armour. Finely crafted fierce armour, too she noticed. His next words took her even more by surprise. Loki was challenging Baldr, for her?  Baldr’s laugh bellowed through the growing darkness as he told Loki to f*** off. “Who are you to challenge me? You’re not even a God.” Like a flash of inspiration, Draven had new information. Where she didn’t know. But she knew it was true. “Loki is just as much a God as you are.” She blurted out. “Excuse me?” Baldr said as he fixed her with an angry glare. “Anything decreed under The All Father’s spear is law. Odin decreed Loki ‘GOD’ of mischief. That makes him a God. And it gives him full right to challenge.” Baldr shot here with a look that questioned how the f*** she even knew the information she was speaking. In truth she didn't even know herself but she knew it was true. “Well regardless. The answer is no. I do not accept. So run along and play your games elsewhere.” Said Baldr with an air of smugness that Draven could have slapped off his face right then and there. “Actually” She perked up again, hands on hips, and a stroppy tone to match. “It isn’t actually YOUR choice. It’s MINE,”   

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