Places Of Importance

All of the places with certain exceptions are found in the outer area of the city which is abandoned so as to keep distance from the Human-Shifter population for the safety of Superhumans. The outer city limits and inner city are separated by nearly three miles of open forest that can easily be walked. Some humans and shifters may come into the outer city to trade for different services and such, bringing food, weapons, and other luxuries with them.

The Abandoned Rookfield Asylum



This massive building is home to the Blackhawk group and houses their forces easily within it’s walls. New furniture and other needed items have been moved in to make it more like a large home with the briefing room being in the basement, the kitchen and dining room serving their normal purpose, and the old rooms having been cleaned and fashioned into rooms for each one of the Blackhawk members. It is found a short ways from the abandoned section outer section of the city, far away from the human and shifter populace found in the inner city area. It has several backup generators that can be powered up at any time if they happen to go off the grid, solar panels keep the place up and running during the day and charge the generators for at night.

Oceanside Pier



The best place to catch fish, a large pier made of rusted metal and wooden planks. At the end of it is a carnival of sorts with a carousel, rollercoaster, light up games, and the like. The lack of power means that none of these work through but certain areas make a good fishing spots and it has steps down to the actual beach it stands above.

Castia Strip Mall



A large former strip mall, the abandoned cars and left open stores make a good place to search for food or simply take up residence if there is nowhere else to go. Most of the selves still have canned food on them that's safe to eat. There used to be generators here as well but they seemed to have been removed by someone and taken elsewhere. Though there is wifi and other internet access here normally, it seems like it’s within a close enough range of the old Asylum that there are dead zones.

Open Market



An empty open area that is covered by large canvas topped tents, it's often a place where you can find others selling or trading their wares or crafts for food or other needed items. It's also a good place to go during the harsh summer heat to lay in the cooling shade and hang out as there tend to be more venders set up here selling food and ice cream during those days.

Old Autoshop



An old automobile shop that seems to have been stripped of all the needed tools or important pieces of metal that could've been of use. It's now just a hallowed out shell that deer are often seen grazing or sleeping nearby.

Rookfield Park



The perfect place to hunt, long overgrown with tall grass and trees. Many different species of prey animals live here or come here to drink from the pond in the center. But be careful as its right next door to the Rookfield Asylum and more predators lurk here then you actually think do.

La Blancae Hotel



An abandoned hotel with most of the rooms and other things still intact, everything having been refurnished and fixed up to act as the base for the Crossfire Group. It is open to all who happen to need a home and is the only other place with solar panels and generators placed so that they tend to have power at night and during the day. It is found clear across the outer city from the old Asylum as to keep themselves between the road to the inner city and the Blackhawk’s base. The rooms all act as rooms for the members of the group and a large dining hall and kitchen serve their purpose well, there is also an old pool outside that’s been fixed and refilled.

CENSUS

[Name] • [Age] • [Gender] • [Ability] • [Player]

Blackhawk

Blackhawk's goal is to restart the Shifter-Human war. They fight to save their own species at the cost of the other two with the belief that all Superhumans are superior thanks to the powers they possess.

.:Warlord:.

[Thea Granson] • [28] • [Female] • [Hallucinogen] • [⛄Ally(is a Frozen)Sloth⛄]

.:Four Horseman:.

[Raven Medino] • [21] • [Female] • [Psychometry|High Heat Conjuring] • [Skrrr]

[Ignatius Cross] • [28] • [Agender|He/Him Pronouns] • [Hypnotism|Psychometry] • [Potato Lord]

[Mark Riverview] • [24] • [Male] • [Electricity] • [Saeginko]

[Roman Axel Ezra-Anexius] • [27] • [Male] • [Tectonic Distortion|Magnetic Manipulation] • [~Shiba-Keeba~]

.:Shamans:.

[Verner Wallace] • [27] • [Male] • [Power Sensing] • [Nanave]

[Orion Granson] • [24] • [Male] • [Healing|Enhanced Strength] • [Skrrr]

.:Fighters:.

[Ezekiel Valdez Santiago] • [21] • [Male] • [Blood Manipulation] • [~Shiba-Keeba~]

[William Uriukk Cipher] • [24] • [Trans Male] • [Nightmare Inducement|Molecular Metal Distortion] • [~Shiba-Keeba~]

[Argento Barrett] • [20] • [Male] • [Illusions|Conjuration] • [Nanave]

[Silas Dezel] • [25] • [Male] • [Copycat] • [Valentine]

.:Trainees:.

[Michael Brotherson] • [16] • [Male] • [Wings/Telepathy] • [Saeginko]

◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙

Crossfire

Crossfire fights to keep humans and shifters alike safe. Their goal is to maintain peace between all species. They are for equality and believe that no one should die for the sake of others.

.:President:.

[Zhaleh Pahlavi] • [22] • [Male] • [Glaciokinesis] • [prince]

.:Vice Presidents:.

[Sanne van Haanrade ] • [24] • [Female] • [Pulse Detection | Gargoyle Physiology] • [BlazeRed]

[Viktor Kurylenko] • [23] • [Male] • [Nuclear Manipulation] • [Potato Lord]

[Eunice Korba] • [23] • [Female] • [Disease Manipulation] • [Nanave]

.:Medics:.

[Lucielle Ruby Amor] • [26] • [Female] • [Water-based Healing] • [~Shiba-Keeba~]

.:Soldiers:.

[Jeong Min-Su Choi] • [24] • [Female] • [Cyberkinesis|Telekinesis] • [⛄Ally(is a Frozen)Sloth⛄]

[Nathaniel Tate] • [24] • [Male] • [Venomous Bite] • [Valentine]

[Ulfric Bosco] • [25] • [Male] • [Armadillo Mimicry/Electrical Vision] • [Nanave]

[Carson Ashwood] • [23] • [Male] • [Invisibility/Teleportation] • [Saeginko]

.:Apprentices:.

[Erin Clearwater] • [21] • [Gender Fluid|She/Her Pronouns] • [Oneiric Physiology] • [Potato Lord]

◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙

Unaffiliated

[Casimiro Vicario Herrera] • [26] • [Male] • [Owl Mimicry|Fear Inducement] • [Potato Lord]

[Helios Raymonds] • [19] • [Male] • [Dragon Physiology] • [~Shiba-Keeba~]

Weather and Season

Season
It is currently late September, meaning that it seems to finally be cooling down from the high heat of summer. It's now early fall and will be getting cooler.

Weather
It's early in the morning but it seems almost later in the evening due to the fact there are heavy, dark clouds rolling in. It's the first real rain storm of the year and there's no real telling how long it'll last, maybe a couple of hours or a few days.

[Roman Axel Ezra-Anexius] • [27] • [Male] • [Tectonic Distortion|Magnetic Manipulation] • [Four Horseman] • [Location] • [Mentions; Silas {Indirectly} {OPEN}]
It had been colder than normal outside, the breeze from a formerly open window in the common room having woken him up far earlier then when he want wanted to be awake. Now he was draped in a massive blanket on one of the four couches found in the common room. Axel laid lazily on his stomach, hanging over the edge of the arm rest with his hands draped to the floor below. He had an opened candy bar in one hand and several smaller snack bags were opened up near the couch and mostly empty. His eyes were mostly closed and it seemed more and more like he was falling back asleep. It was quite the opposite in reality, he was wired for sound and felt like running a mile easily. Yet here he was oddly enough, resting like a gorged crocodile for more prey to show up. His muscles were tensed and coiled and a plan was boiling in his mind as he watched the closed door with its oak wood engraved designs. Others would soon be up and he didn’t doubt others would show up here sooner or later and he planned on giving them the scare of their lives when they did. He was like a wild animal without his ‘anchor’, if you could call the little bird an anchor for the tectonic terror that was Axel. Here he was even, once again proving that to trust and turn your back on him completely would lead to plotting and scares galore. Granted with a brush set on the back of the couch with clips and barrettes snapped to hair ties wrapped around the handle, showed that there was a different scheme at play as well.

[Ezekiel Valdez Santiago] • [21] • [Male] • [Blood Manipulation] • [Blackhawk Fighter] • [Location; Oceanside Pier] • [Mentions; {OPEN}]
Bare feet moved through the soft, cool sand silently as he walked along. The rush of cold water moving up to his ankles before sliding away wasn’t too much of a bother anymore, he’d been out here for an hour. Ezekiel often felt smothered and unsure without his friends; but Helios chose to stay out of the fighting and Lucielle…she chose the side to save others, no matter the pain they had cause. They both had good heads on their shoulders. Then there was him. The blood manipulator on the side to wipe out the human and shifter races. He had a reason for his choice though, one look at the scar tissue that was once a left arm proved that well enough. He didn’t want to stay angry though, not after this long when all it seemed to do was drag him down through the muck. Stooping, he scooped up a seashell about as wide as his palm; admiring its white and pink coloring that reminded him fondly of his cockatoos back at the base. Staying quiet, he settling down into the sand and said nothing when cold water washed up over his legs and up to his stomach. He admired the shell in his hands before placing it upside down on top of the receding wave and watched as it was swept away back into the sea with a smile. He enjoyed being at the beach, hiding out under the pier away from prying eyes. This was a place that nearly no one knew of, let alone knew of to look for him.

|Silas Dezel|25|Male|
|Copycat|Blackhawk Fighter|
|Location: Rookfield Asylum|Mentions: Axel (Directly), None (Indirectly)|

Pale, bare feet hit the cold floor with a slap, eliciting a goose bump filled shudder to run up Silas' back as he stumbled from bed with a large yawn. Despite having just woken, Silas' eyes were wide open, maybe a little too wide, considering he looked like a startled deer, with dark, purplish bags underneath. Grumbling, he swiped a hand through the discarded blanket searching for the pair of socks he'd kicked off in his sleep. A pleased hiss escaped him as a hand closed around the fluffy knit socks, quickly pulling them on over his freezing feet. Silas hummed as he grabbed the smaller body sized blanket from the end of the bed and slung it up and over his shoulders, using it as a sort of robe against the chill in the air. On tired legs Silas shuffled from his room and down the stairs toward the common room, where he was most likely to find Axel if the other male hadn't already escaped to the outside of the building without his self proclaimed minder. He snorted as he hopped down the last few steps, balance maintained by bending his legs on the landing, at the thought of Axel sneaking out of the building just to avoid him. The sight that greeted him as he stepped into the common room had Silas freezing solidly in place. There was Axel alright, just as he thought he'd be but there, laying out in plain sight next to Axel was Silas' worst nightmare; a brush and an assortment of barrettes. Silas knew his hair was unmanageable, what with every strand of it sticking out in whichever way it decided to for the day, and he was content with letting it do whatever it wanted but for some reason his friend had taken it upon himself to try and bring some semblance of order to it. He glared across the room at Axel where he laid and debated on whether he could make a getaway before Axel noticed his arrival.


|Nathaniel Tate|24|Male|
|Venomous Bite|Crossfire Soldier|
|Location: La Blancae Hotel|Mentions: None (Directly), None (Indirectly)|

If there was one thing Nathan hated more than anything it was mornings. Not only was it usually far to early for anyone to be awake but the sheer silence of headquarters, or really just his own claimed bedroom, drove the blonde nearly up the wall. Nathan did not handle the silence well, preferring to be in the presence of others, letting their chatter and generally upbeat moods wash over him and cleanse the darker, moodier thoughts from his own head. Stretching beneath the covers brought a groan to his lips as joints and muscles popped and stretched back into a more comfortable position. Dragging himself from bed was by far one of the hardest thing he ever had to do, and just think he had to do it everyday too, but here he was on his feet anyways. Dressed in the brightest pink sleep shirt he could find and a pair of dark, baggy sweatpants Nathan made his was through the old building and down to the kitchen. It didn't seem as if anyone else was awake yet, which meant he'd take it upon himself to make everyone breakfast. Pancakes sounded good and someone had brought home a couple dozen of eggs home just yesterday. Tongue poking out the side of his mouth, careful to avoid his fangs on that side, Nathan gathered all the ingredients necessary for pancakes before flipping the dials on the stove. The least he could do was feed everyone.

Sanne van Haanrade | 24 | Female | Crossfire
Pulse Detection | Gargoyle Physiology | Vice President
Location: La Blancae Hotel | Mentions: Nathaniel

"Where the hell is it?" Sanne hissed to herself as she sorted through her closet, looking for the one thing she loved most: her black skater skirt. Since she grew a tail in her gargoyle form, she usually wore a dress or a skirt, so finding one specific skirt in her closet could be a bit of an issue at times. "Ah ha!" She exclaimed, pulling the prized possession out from her pile of clothes, "There you are!" She quickly put the skirt on and paired it with a white crop top, she then slipped some black ankle boots onto her feet and walked out to the hallway. The faint smell of something cooking reached her nose, making her realize how hungry she was. Deciding to go investigate, she headed over to the kitchen, where she spotted Nathaniel at the stove.

The first thing she noticed was the hideous outfit he was wearing, and she winced at the sight of his bright pink shirt. She was about to tell him to change into something less blindingly bright, but she decided not to. Nathaniel never had a very good sense of fashion, so it was probably useless. She doubted he even owned any 'normal' clothes. Deciding to focus on the food instead, she strolled over to him, a small smile tugging on her lips. "Good morning, Nathaniel!" She greeted him cheerfully, "Are those pancakes I smell?"

[ Viktor Kurylenko ]
Male ◘ 23 ◘ Crossfire ◘ Vice President
Power: Nuclear Manipulation
Location: Oceanside Pier ◘ Mentions: {Directly} Ezekiel / {Indirectly} Nathan

The wooden planks of the pier creaked loudly with every step he took, but Viktor paid the noise little mind. Creeping up on some poor, unsuspecting Blackhawk fighter wasn’t on the agenda this morning. At least, it wasn’t yet. He’d slipped out of La Blancae Hotel at the first hint of dawn with only a quick word of farewell to Nathan that his friend likely wouldn’t remember now considering he’d still been half asleep. He gazed out to the soft swell of the ocean, watching the foaming water bob back and forth along the shore.

It was peaceful out here, and despite the fact he expected the rotting wood to eventually give out beneath his feet one of these days he still always came back. Viktor raised a hand to remove the sunglasses covering his eyes, folding them onto his shirt for safe-keeping. Without the dark lenses hiding his eyes they glowed brilliantly in the early morning light, an unnatural shade of green. Humans and shifters didn't seem to venture here very often, and even if they did what could they ever hope to do to someone like him?

He leaned against the railing, picking at pieces of white chipped paint to reveal rusted metal underneath. A seagull settled on the railing beside him, head tilting in curiosity. The bird knew he was different, but unlike people animals rarely felt so inclined to judge. “I don’t have anything for you today friend. Try elsewhere,” he told the pestering gull, shooing her away with a wave of his hand. The bird eyed him suspiciously as if she didn’t believe his claims before letting out a raucous cry as she left her perch to glide over the beach.

Viktor’s gaze followed her for a time before something on a retreating wave caught his eye. A shell with bright pink stripes floated along back to the ocean and Viktor found himself reminded of one of Nathan’s ridiculously bright shirts. Hauling himself over the rail, he landed with a splash on the beach below, chasing the shell down to the shoreline before snagging it just in time. Examining the shell, he conceded maybe it wasn’t quite as glaring a color as Nathan’s favorite pink shirt. That wouldn’t stop him from bringing it home with him for closer comparison. A flicker of movement beneath the pier had him glancing in Ezekiel's direction almost lazily, clearly unworried by the potential danger of another person being in the area.

{{My other nerds will get intros next time.}}

Mark ”Hearken” Riverview | 24 years | Blackhawk | Horseman
Electricity
Location: Abandoned Rookfield Asylum
Mentions: None, Open for Interaction
{Slight Mentions: None}

Really, his phone was dead? How did that even happen, with it always being in his pocket? Hearken rolled his eyes to the ceiling, muttering quietly under his breath. One would think that just being near him would charge it up, but apparently not. It had to be done manually. He looked down at it again, idly wondering if he should just throw it at the wall and get a new one. Clearly this phone wasn’t up to par anymore. It’s battery was always dying, probably giving up after being as old as it was.

Casting that thought out of his mind, he closed his hand around the phone, letting a small flow of electricity go into the device. He was sure not to over-do it; it was almost amazing how much phones he had short-circuited from giving them a blast of electricity they weren’t able to hold, dead battery or not. Since he couldn’t instantly get the battery up to full, he was going to need to do this for a while, probably around an hour. Of just holding his phone, glaring at it and wishing it would reach one hundred percent and not waste his time and energy for once. If only someone hadn’t stolen his charger…

Idly walking out of his room, he headed down to the dining room, his phone still gripped in his hand. He was careful not to get to close to the lights - with him purposefully creating electricity, it could affect them if he got within a foot of them. Not to harmful amounts, but still; he didn’t want to waste any energy. It wasn’t a never-ending pool that he could conjure up, he needed to conserve it so he could actually use it when he needed it instead of having it randomly blow electronics up. Sometimes his power was annoying as hell.

He wondered if anyone was going out today. Going out as in, going out solely to hunt down some Crossfire and kill them. He could go for some of that. Slowly strolling around the asylum wasn’t exactly a fun experience. There was nothing else to do, so wouldn’t it just be better to do something productive with that time? That productivity would involve killing people, but hey, who wanted to bother with the practicalities? It wasn’t like the Crossfire didn’t want them all dead anyway, so it was just fair that they were given the same in return, right?

Whatever. There had to be something to do around the asylum, at least. Maybe something was dead and he needed to jumpstart it. Better than sitting around and wasting his whole day.

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Carson “Rogue” Ashwood | 23 years | Crossfire | Soldier
Invisibility | Teleportation
Location: La Blancae Hotel
Mentions: None, Open for Interaction
{Slight Mentions: Lucielle}

Rogue shuffled around his room, biting his lip. Okay, it wasn’t so hard… He had done it plenty of times in the past few days, why should it be so difficult now? It was just something a little bigger, that’s all. Hardly a problem. He tried to make those thoughts stick as he walked up to his dresser. There were a few items laying on the dresser; four of them were small pebbles, and he took two in each hand. Keeping them on the palms of his hands, he focused on them, narrowing his eyes.

The pebbles flickered for a moment, then they slowly faded from sight. He could still feel their weight on his hands, but they were invisible. They were unable to be seen, and yet he was still keeping his own form entirely opaque, as he could see from the large mirror hanging above the dresser. “Easy enough,” he said under his breath, letting the pebbles phase back into solidity as he put them back on the dresser. No problem at all. The bigger rocks were pretty much the same thing, just a little bigger. It shouldn’t be hard to do now, either.

He took the larger rocks, about the size of tennis balls. Balancing them on his palms, he tried the same thing he had with the pebbles. This time, it was more strenuous, and Rogue felt a spike of pain in his temple. The rocks were barely faded through, and they were progressively getting harder to see, but with more effort, the more painful it was to attempt. When the rocks were almost invisible, Rogue had to stop. He put the rocks back on the dresser and held his head, gritting his teeth from the lancing headache that had done him a great favor by existing.

“Damn it,” he sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes had a judgemental light to them, and he couldn’t help but glare at himself for a moment before glancing away. How in the hell could he not get a hang of this? It wasn’t rocket science, he did this every day. He could do it to his entire body and clothes, and keep it up for half an hour before getting exhausted. What was it so different about things outside of himself, things that weren’t thin fabric, that made it troublesome? He was probably just too stupid to do it right.

What the pessimistic side of him wasn’t letting him see was that he had made astounding progress over the last four days. Four days ago, even the pebbles would give him a migraine, but now they were a piece of cake. The tennis ball-sized rocks were far bigger than the pebbles were, and it would have been impossible to phase them out half a week ago. But in his mind, the only thing that mattered was the fact that he hadn’t caught onto what he wanted to do by now, and that was marked as a failure.

This headache was going to bug him for the rest of the day now. Maybe he could find Lucielle and get something to stop it from bothering him. He didn’t know where the medic liked to hide out, nor did he even really want to speak to her, but it was better than trying to ignore it. He did far too much ignoring of his troubles, he didn’t need to do the same with his physical ailments as well. Putting on a jacket and lifting the hoodie over his head, he swiped at his hair until it covered his eyes and left his room.

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Mikey Brotherson | 16 years | Blackhawk | Trainee
Telepathy | Wings
Location: Around → Old Autoshop
Mentions: None
{Slight Mentions: Greggy-boi}

He shouldn’t be out here. Not alone. If anyone knew he was out here by himself, then they’d probably be pissed. If there was one thing Mikey was known for, it was his rebellious attitude. This wasn’t the first time he had snuck out of the asylum, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. Let’s just say that the blatant disregard he had for the Blackhawk rules had earned him some enemies within the ranks of his superiors.

They used to be pretty lax about these sorts of things, and he was allowed to go wherever he wanted. Within reason, of course. But with his teen years came an ever-enlarging supply of disdain, even for their leader and horsemen, and that’s where people started to get maybe a little annoyed with him. Some thought he avoided the other Blackhawks simply because he was a moody teenager, but… If he were honest, it was getting harder for him to accept them as people.

He didn’t want to think about that again. It just led to him feeling bleak, and there was no need for that. No one ever got far by being bleak and depressed. He needed to be hopeful and believe there was good in everyone, believe there was a good impact from every kind thing he thought and did. Mikey was an eternally optimistic person at heart, honestly he was. It was just hard to keep that thought process strong sometimes.

There was an odd sound to his right, and Mikey froze, his wings extending from his back in preparation. Was there a Crossfire out there, watching him? He tried to catch the feelings and intentions from someone’s mind in that direction, but there was nothing to be found. This street was pretty deserted in every direction, actually. His wings relaxed and settled against his back, his breath wheezing out. So it was just his imagination, then. Hopefully.

Why was he even bothering with walking? That just made his journey take longer, and kept him out in the open for longer. If he got off the street faster, then there wasn’t as much time for him to be noticeable. It didn’t matter if he was in the sky; he was going to duck down in just a block or so anyway. Better to get there quicker and avoid drawing it out. Mikey didn’t know if the other Blackhawks would agree with his plan, if they were here, but he was going to do it anyway.

He opened his wings and tried to get a running start, and with a couple tries he was able to lift into the air. Flying in his typical bounding fashion, his rate of speed was increased significantly, and he found himself at his destination within only a couple short minutes. He landed in front of the old autoshop, a few of the letters either missing or hanging loosely from their positions. People rarely came here; everything that could be salvaged had been taken, so it was just a useless old building now. Except to Mikey, this place wasn’t useless at all. It was his hideout, where he wanted to go when he wanted to be away from the other Blackhawks. Sometimes it was almost a home to him.

Not thinking to look around in case anyone was watching him, Mikey nudged the door open and slipped inside.

Min-Su Choi
Female||24||Crossfire||Cyberkinesis and Telekinesis||Location: La Blancae Hotel||Mentions: Sanne and Nathaniel

Light peaked through the blind of the old hotel room. It stretched across the desk, with it's trinkets and doodads, reaching the floor where there was a cream colored rug atop the original wooden floors, and finally it reached the bed. Pillows scrambled around the frame, blankets scattered and scrunched over a thin figure. A hand reached up and rubbed her eye as the sun shone to wake her up. A grumble and a sigh came from the sleepy woman. Min pulled the blankets off of herself and let her feel rest against the floor. Her auburn hair was pulled into a very messy ponytail.

Min-Su finally got the courage and strength to stand up and start the day. She looked over at their closet. Pajamas seemed like a better alternative right now. She stumbled over to the bathroom. She brushed her pearly white teeth. She thought about today's events and realized she had nothing planed. A go with the flow chill day sounded nice to her. She pulled her hair down and retied it. She noticed the her brown roots were beginning to sprout. 'What color should I do next? She asked herself. It was then when an aroma wondered into the room. What was that? Pancakes? Oh, yes it was. It was if the pleasing smell had grabbed her by the hand as she followed it to the kitchen like a dog.

Once she reached the kitchen, she called out a morning and then Min-Su shielded her eyes. "Gosh Nate you almost blinded me. Someone call the fashion police. This ones a doosey." She joked about the bright nature of his pink shirt. "Should I take your man card away now or later?" She smiled. Sanne was also in the room. She waved the the girl. She didn't really know how this day was going to go.

Thea Granson
Female||28||Blackhawks||Illusion Casting||Location: The Abandoned Rookfield Asylum||Mentions: None, open for interaction

Thea let out a peaceful breath. Her eyes closed as she moved from yoga pose to yoga pose. Her body flowed with such grace and flexibility. The um room had been her faviorte. She could feel real peace in the morning because of it. Routine was something that she liked, without it she would probably be messy and disorganized. Her almost black hair was in a messy bun to keep it from her face. That didn't stop a few flyaways from sticking to the sweat on her forehead. Thea stopped her morning yoga and rolled up her mat. She put it in the storage closet and walked to the shower.

A clean Thea walked out in a pair of black jeans, a dark green T-shirt, and her black combat boots. She strolled down the hallway of the asylum. She wondered what people stayed in these walls. Those who saw things that weren't there, the ones obsessed with fire, some who were likened and couldn't feel emotions, and the ones that babbled about things that didn't make sense. She could see them, hiding in the corner or getting lectured by the doctor who didn't understand but he though he could. She could see it so vividly because she had lived it. It felt like prison, only Thea hadn't done anything wrong but be herself.

❄ Zhaleh Pahlavi ❄
❄ Male ❄ Twenty Two ❄ Glaciokinesis ❄ Crossfire President ❄
❄ L: La Blancae Hotel ❄ MD: N/A ❄ MI: Min-Su, Everyone ❄

Although the door was closed to his ground floor room, it wasn't hard to guess the occupant as frost crept from below the door and the handle gleamed coldly, daring any passerby to try and lick it. However the actual room was far worse on the inside as everything glittered under a pale blue blanket of ice, including the bed on which Zhaleh lay asleep. Of course that's a bit of an exaggeration as Zhaleh was actually half way off as though he'd tried getting up at some point in the night, but simply abandoned the task partway through, leaving him in a rather uncomfortable position which was sure to leave aches and pains once he awoke. Speaking of which, the pleasant smell of pancakes had finally found it's way through the house and into Zhaleh's room, making him stir from his slumber.

With a groan he began to move gingerly as the soreness settled in, but despite his careful progress he managed to slip on the icy floor and fell the rest of the way off the bed with a dull thud. This seemed to wake him enough that he was able to get dressed in a tank and some jeans, making sure to remember gloves before pulling his hair up into a lazy bun and making his way to the kitchen.

Noticing the small crowd he leaned against the doorway, wearing a lazy grin at Min-Su's light-hearted ridicules. Less than gracefully moving as not to accidentally touch anyone, Zhaleh made his way to one of the cabinets, feeling around for the stash of coffee bags and grabbing the first two he found. "Anyone want some," He paused glanced at the bag, "Kona Coffee?"

I know, that's, like, the best first post anyone could ever write. Who doesn't want to hear about a character waking up for two paragraphs?
L = Location
MD = Mentions [directly]
MI = Mentions [indirectly]

[ Gregory Black ]
Male ◘ 30 y/o ◘ Crossfire ◘ Fighter
Powers: Smoke Generation & Shadow Manipulation
Location: Apartment Complex - Old Auto Shop ◘ Mentions: {Indirectly} Mikey

The persistent, melodic ringing of an alarm clock roused Greg from an uneasy sleep, a pale hand reaching out to clumsily hit the off button and sending the machine clattering to the floor with an even louder thump instead. An irritable grunt escaped him as he rose stiffly into a sitting position, careful of his leg as he left his bed. As usual, pain shot from the knee down, but he was prepared as always, a hand bracing himself on the bedside table as he reached for his cane.

Rather than staying in the La Blancae Hotel with the other members of Crossfire, Greg had stubbornly chosen to remain in the rundown apartment complex he’d called home for the past five years. The formally abandoned hotel was certainly nicer, but Greg was just about done depending on other people for a place to live. This place would serve him well enough. Even if it was infested with rats and only God knew what else.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he were a permanent member. Greg rarely tagged along on patrols and was generally only called upon for missions that included information gathering and breaking into hard to reach or highly secured areas. Otherwise he was more or less left to himself, maintaining a more solid occupation as a certified bio-hazard technician. Living the life of any other normal human or shifter...or perhaps not so much. Most people didn’t clean up blood and guts from crime scenes or dispose of toxic waste on a daily basis.

He worked for a company available 24/7 and never really had a set schedule. This sort of thing typically wasn’t expected after all. Thankfully his boss was also a superhuman, though she chose to live in secrecy and never picked a side in the war, and didn’t question the instances when he had to call out. Sometimes Greg didn’t know why he bothered involving himself in this either, but he was here now and it gave him a larger purpose than just cleaning up after dead bodies, of which there would be plenty more on the way if the fate of the world was left up to Blackhawk.

As he dressed for the day, he chose clothes that were practical, but still fairly nice. Greg strove to give off the impression of being wealthier than he truly was. The way people looked at him when he was walking down the street was quite enough, their pitying gazes or judgmental sneers making his stomach twist with a mixture of anger and nausea. He didn’t need them knowing he was dirt poor too.

Normally Greg would avoid the daylight given the chance unless called in for a job. Today however he was feeling restless and needed something to distract himself. Perhaps some ‘private’ investigating. Every now and then he would sneak into an office and look through the files stored inside for the sake of entertaining himself.

He left the building behind for the sidewalk, cane in hand, not bothering trying to make his limp less noticeable. It only put unnecessary strain on his leg and people would stare regardless. Some were even bold enough to inquire what had happened, especially children. He always had a different answer for anyone who asked.

A glimmer of color in the sky above caught his attention and his eyes followed the blur of light until it disappeared a few streets down. ’Interesting.’ Making his way to where he’d last seen the flash of color was slow progress compared to Mikey’s rapid speed, but eventually he found himself standing in front of the old, broken down auto shop that had been picked clean of any useful supplies long ago.

Nimble fingers curled around the handle and pushed the door open, peering inside before quietly closing it behind him. After that he melded into the shadows, no longer visible to the naked eye as he sifted through the darkness in search of whatever creature may linger there.

Argento Barrett | Male | 19 | Blackhawk| Fighter | Power: Illusions/Conjuration| Location: Open Market--> en route to Rookfield Asylum | Mentions: (Directly) None, Open For Interaction
The dark heavy clouds rolling in had been incentive enough for Argento to have gone to the open market in search of food. The last thing he needed was to be sent out on a food run in the midst of a rain storm. With nothing to trade with he certainly wasn't planning on obtaining said supplies honestly. He couldn't stand eating another canned meal. This past week he had eaten nothing but canned goods as that was all the higher ranking members claimed they had available, though he was sure they were hiding the higher quality food from them. Hence why he was at the market where they had fresher foods to trade for.

It was still early in the morning. There were only a handful of people out here to trade and only two that traded with food around this time. The sound of bags filled with tools, medicine, or edibles being shifted around was far louder than the murmurs of these weary people. Their fatigue would make them all the easier to distract with an illusion. Even with as tired as these people were most of them would recognize his face and had noticed in the past that more of their supplies seem to dissapear when he was in the area. If he had entered the area looking like himself they'd never take a hand or an eye off of their supplies. Hence he had used his ability to disguise himself as some older man whose ID he had stolen while in the city three days ago. With some focus the sound of a puppy whimpering and yipping started coming from a nearby storm drain. The illusionary sound was all he could manage with so much concentration needing to be put into his disguise. The noise had been enough to draw in one bystander and demanded the attention of most of the others in the open market.

Seeing that no eyes were on him he rushed from his spot close to a nearby alleyway to one of the bags an onlooker had abandon to help a puppy that didn't exist. He stuffed any food items that he couldn't find at the abandon strip mall into his bag. Things like milk, eggs, and produce. He didn't take more than they would need. He also grabbed a few bottles of medicine that was in the bag. It was simple over the counter stuff like cough medicine and painkillers. After rummaging through the bag it was clear that there was nothing else of interest. He left the bag as he originally found it and left the immediate area. As far as he was aware no one had noticed him but he remained alert. He was heading back to the asylum and he always had to make sure he didn't unwittingly lead anyone there.

Ulfric Bosco | Male | 25 | Crossfire| Soldier | Power: Armadillo Mimicry/Electrical Vision | Location: La Blancae Hotel | Mentions: (Directly)Nathan, Min-Su, Zhaleh, Sanne (Indirectly)
Finding anything in his room had always been difficult despite the many decorative lights strewn about the walls and furniture of the room to help give him a sense of where everything was. Knowing where his dresser was did nothing to help him find a shirt. He fumbled articles of clothing through his claws and hands to try and feel what sort of material it was before holding it up to better try and examine it. Maybe this would be easier if he actually bothered to organize his drawers. Folding often only ended up with him tearing holes in his clothes so that was always out of the question. By the time he found one he could here a great deal of the others were awake. While putting the shirt on he had managed to put a new hole in one of the sleeves when one of his claws managed to snag the material. He felt over the new hole and huffed. His clothes always fit awkwardly, there were too big but with the size of his claws they had to be.

He followed the cobweb of electrical signals in the walls to the kitchen. Nathan was here, or at least he assume that was what the bright pink blob near the massive electrical activity that was the stove was. If only all of them were so easy to recognise, it would make his life a whole lot easier. The others weren't so easy to identify and he had to go off of their voices. He caught the end of Min-Su's comment along the way here but he couldn't tell which of the three non pink blobs and biological electrical activity was her. Zhaleh or what sounded like their leader mentioned coffee but he was far too interested in the pancakes being made. He moved closer to the stove only wishing he could have done something to help. Last time he had helped cook something he had destroyed one too many dishes and nearly burned a few of his claws. Before he could get closer and even ask if there was something he could do he paused to look down at his massive, clumsy claws. How were these supposed to be useful? "Is there anything I can do to help?" Hopefully there was something that he could do that he couldn't mess up too terribly.

|Nathaniel Tate|24|Male|
|Venomous Bite|Crossfire Soldier|
|Location: La Blancae Hotel- Kitchen|Mentions: Sanne, Min-Su (Directly), Viktor (Indirectly)|

Nathan flashed Sanne a bright smile over his left shoulder at the woman's cheerful greeting, waving one hand behind him as another form of hello. "Morning Sanne!" He called, absently flipping a strip of bacon in the skillet on the back burner. "Sleep well?" Turning back to face the stove so that he wouldn't burn any of the cooking food Nathan continued on as if Sanne had answered. "Pancakes are on the plate," a callous wave toward said plate, "eggs are in the pan," a gesture with the spatula, "and bacon is in the microwave. Help yourself, just make sure to leave some for the others." Really, the only person Nathan was worried about not eating was Viktor. Though his friend could take care of himself, Nathan couldn't help but try and take care of the other man, support him, like Viktor did for Nathan.

"Aww Min-Su! You know me so well!" Nathan joked right back, grinning out right as the woman strode into the kitchen, sharp, snake like fangs bared in amusement. "My man card's already been taken and confiscated a long time ago." His statement was punctuated by a hip cocked to the side, amusement bleeding from every pore. "Nice Pjs yourself there." The pop and sizzle of frying bacon had him returning to the cooking food. "There's plenty for you too, Sweetpea. Take what you want." Wielding the spatula as only an expert could, Nathan flipped all the bacon from the pan to the waiting plate before taking the plate and sliding it further down the counter. "Anyone happen to see Viktor this morning?" He only vaguely remembered his friends passing goodbye early this morning.

It was only moments later that Zhaleh entered the kitchen asking about coffee, then Ulfric soon after. Nathan shook his head at the offer of coffee since he was supposed to be avoiding alcohol and caffeine both, though the caffeine was his idea. A look to the side had him catching the slightly sad look on Ulfric's face as he if there was anything he could do to help. Breakfast was mostly finished with the dishes stacked on the counter for free use. "You can help me clean up after if you'd like Ulfric?"