#taskvig

[foolsgold-son]

The Guild - Gryphon

Guild Member Name: Gryphon (Chantelle Hall-Reinard)

Face Claim: Robin Wright

Age: 55

Species: Human-Gryphon(?)

Powers & Abilities: Gryphon physiology, to the point of full shifting with enough strength.

Backstory: Much like her son, Chantelle Reinard was thrust into the spotlight from day 1. Her parents met while her father directed a film featuring the magician and actress who became her mother. From there she flourished, now proudly bearing an extensive list of accomplishments under her belt, including but not limited to: the French Shirley Temple, Miss France, Emmy Award winner, HIV/AIDS awareness advocate, experienced stunt actress, and comparably stable mother and wife with a life in stardom.

It’s a shame she can’t add “moonlighting superhero” to that list, not publicly.

Gryphon came to being when she was 18, just out of high school and unsure if she wanted to attend college, continue her entertainment career, or maybe run off and join the circus. With stress came the feathers, and with the feathers came the mask. College and running away were out of the question now, so her choice was pretty easy in the end.

In all honesty, she and Bogatyr were not a couple until five months after they met and banded together in fighting crime and defending innocents, as one does when they can manifest claws and daggers out of nowhere. Five months went by before the flirting turned serious, and the two decided to reveal themselves. Chantelle’s first thought: “I can definitely work with this.” Vlad’s? “I got drunk and cried through your movie two nights ago.”

They started dating, got married, had kids, happily ever after? Not when you have Garrett Hall for a son. Or when you join the Guild as one of the founding members. Or when you have to come up with an infinite number of ways to keep people from realizing that Chantelle and Gryphon are always in the same region. Or-

Well… you know how it is.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Signature Move: Not a lot of people know what to do when a mythical creature comes to life and tries to eat your face.

Extra Info:

[Sigil] A feather curved into an infinity sign.

[Costume] With the confidence of a woman who loves herself unapologetically, Gryphon wears a shimmering bronze and red catsuit under matching body armor, all of which being designed to stretch to the size of her gryphon form. Her mask resembles an eagle-like masquerade mask framed with an explosion of her own feathers.

[Role] Actual mom friend with mom experience; Vlad only sometimes functions as dad friend. He’s usually the weird uncle.

[lyra-rey]

Villain Name: ↳ Scythe

Face Claim: ↳ Adria Arjona

Age: ↳ 510 (looks 25)

Species: ↳ Demigod

Powers & Abilities / Specialities: ↳ Life-Force Manipulation (specifically regenerative healing, age manipulation, resurrection, minor healing and life-force absorption)

What was once a latent power, her ability of life-force manipulation was surfaced after almost century of torture. Most of it is completely unconscious such as her regenerative healing and age manipulation, but over the years she figured out how to use many of its other uses. She can absorb people’s life-force with her touch, though she cannot take all of it (thus killing them). The best she can do is suck their life force until they go unconscious then kill them that way. Taking someone’s life force also gives her a burst of energy. She is unable to create life force, meaning that in order to resurrect someone, she must use her own life force, or there must be just enough latent life force for her to amplify. She can heal through a similar way that she brings someone back to life, though she hasn’t truly tempted the limits of this power and usually only uses it if she happens to hurt an innocent in the crossfire.

Backstory: (Trigger Warning for mentions of sexual assault and torture)

↳ She was born Yamanik, in a different time as the reincarnation of the fabled Hero Twins. Her brother never did believe the legends, but she did. She yearned to wear the important title, to be someone important in their world. When news spread of their lineage, she jumped at the opportunity, even as her brother, Kasakir, wished to remain at their dying farm. Their village treated them as gods and as news of them spread, she prepared herself for the K'iche' leaders, convincing herself that she and her brother would be able to take them down if they so wanted to. As it turned out, the Spanish conquistadors did that for her. In the fight that broke out, she lost sight of her brother and just as she was going to call out his name, her vision went black.

The conquistadors did not know of the Hero Twins; they didn't care that she was a reincarnated god. They saw her as a woman first and used her as such. She became one of the many to be treated as "free labor" and no matter what she did to escape, they always managed to catch her in the end. It was never the labor she feared, but the men who believed owned her. They were the ones to stare longer than they ought to or pulled her out of her sleep in the middle of the night.

By the time they realized she was not aging, she yearned for death. She was given to holy men who wanted to purge the devil out of her. When fire did not kill her (despite her screams), they tried water. When water wouldn't work, they tried rocks. So many different ways for her to die and not one of them worked. As the time in between their attempts to kill her became longer, she found herself meditating. She mulled over the stories of the Hero Twins, reminding herself that she was them, she was more powerful than the humans who continued to try to manipulate her. Even as they starved her and used her body, she held more power than they could have ever imagined. In the dark cell, she discovered her true power. She bided her time and when the priest went to her with another attempt to purge the devil out of her, she killed him without batting an eye. And then she brought him back to life. Her words to him were "I want you to feel death as many times as I have."

She didn't know what to do with herself after escaping her cell. She thought about her brother, who must still be alive somewhere in the world, but without a way to track him down, he left her mind instantaneously. Instead, she just walked. She didn't know where she was going, but she vowed to never become someone's slave ever again.

In her aimless wandering, she saw many horrible things, countries brought to ruin, wars crushing innocent people. She hated this world, hated every man who believed it was their right to kill another. It wasn't their right; it was hers. She killed for sport, whenever there was a man who stared at women the wrong way or said something she didn't like. She seduced them, lured them in, stabbed them as many times as she could, and brought them back to life to see what she had done. Sometimes she killed them again, other times she let them live in fear of her return. Any man who killed another was her victim and she had so many to choose from. Never mind that they changed their ways or started a family to atone for their crimes. The world was unforgiving and she was only playing by its rules.

She was already at Newhaven when she saw her brother for the first time in centuries. He wore a silly outfit with a silly name and dubbed himself a hero. One look at him and she could see that life had been much kinder to him than it had been to her and she loathed him for it. The world always did treat men better and she thought it good to remind them that she wouldn't accept being pushed aside any longer. She wore her own ridiculous outfit and proved to all of them that she was stronger, that she was better, and she would kill anyone who tried to tell her otherwise.

Moral Alignment: ↳ Lawful Evil

Criminal MO: ↳ She usually kills or attacks murderers or those who have shown serious violence against others. She predominantly goes after men, though she has been known to kill women who are particularly heinous. She has maintained her normal MO of luring in whoever she intends to kill, taking their life force, murdering them, then traumatizing them by bringing them back to life. Most of the time, she will kill them again after, but occasionally, she will flip a coin to decide if they will stay permanently dead or not.

Extra Info: ↳ In case it wasn’t obvious, she is the twin sister to the guild member, Daybreak.

↳ She never bothers to give herself a new name as the woman she once was has definitely died. She currently goes by the name Ava, but will most likely change it whenever she forgets what she is supposed to be called or grows bored of it.

↳ She thinks of the vigilantes as even more ridiculous versions of the guild, but incredibly more dangerous. She keeps her eyes on the ones with questionable morals *cough* Red River and Puck *cough* and might even have them on her long list of potential victims.

↳ Her symbol is that of a scythe, both to represent her small beginnings as a farmer and the image of death she now takes on.

↳ She lives by a woman’s shelter and is often seen volunteering there. A great deal of her victims are the abusers of the women at the shelter. 

↳ As for money, she’ll usually take whatever she wants. She has gathered several priceless artifacts over the years that she sells whenever she doesn’t feel like taking something.

↳ She has a strange appreciation for Anima and is a fan of her work.

↳ Fun fact: her given name Yamanik means emerald in the K’iche’ language.

[withgravityandtime-blog]

Task 4: The Guild –– Ora

Guild Member Name: Ora , (Bridget Welsh)

Face Claim: Aislinn Paul

Age: 22

Species: Human

Powers & Abilities: Chronokenisis

Backstory: Bridget Welsh always had a quite nervous disposition. Quiet for most of her life, she had learned to make herself more likable by adapting a dry, ironic humor. It served as a good defense mechanism against any bullies that tried to bring her down as she went through the trials and tribulations of puberty. As she got older, however, she became more and more reserved. That witty, sardonic humor became reserved for those closest to her. The rest of the world, in turn, saw a quiet girl with a bright mind and, every so often, a silver tongue.

Problems arose, however, when Bridget hit high school. Taking tests would have her face and hands going numb. her whole body would tremble at the thought of verbal confrontation. Small, insignificant things would make her heart race and her brain fall down dark, terrifying hypotheticals. Getting up in the morning became more and more difficult as dread seeped into her bones. Dread of going to school, hinged around the possibility of failure.

Things came to a head during a pivotal moment in her academic career: her SATs. Her test-taking anxieties skyrocketed, the constant reminder of the ticking clock weighing on her like shackles bound to her desk. She’d studied, gotten tutoring, but very little could prepare her for the pressure when the time came. Her hands shook so much she could barely fill in the Scantron sheet in front of her. Hell, she couldn’t even feel her hands, or her feet, or the tip of her nose. Bridget felt sick to her stomach, positive she’d faint soon as tears began to well in her eyes. This was it. The end of her academic career and, by proxy, the rest of her life. The overstimulation of it all flooded her system, the air growing heavy, body going electric with adrenaline and panic until –––

It stopped. Not the anxiety, not the fear, but everything. The world around Bridget completely froze, the room falling quiet as her fellow students stilled, along with the moderator, her mouth agape in preparation to speak. Dumbfounded, Bridget looked up to see that the clock, too, had stopped in its motion. Time itself had come to a halt. All except for her.

To some, maybe this would have incited more hysteria. But all Bridget felt was the most acute sense of relief. Maybe she’d fallen off the deep end, she figured, but even if she had this was precisely what she needed. She had all the time in the world, quite literally; the least she could do was take a damn breath and collect herself. She even stood, marveled at how she could still push back her chair and walk around without anything snapping back around her. She got water, let herself sharpen her pencil, even stared at the ceiling for a good while before filling in more test answers. It was only when, consciously, she decided she was ready to return to the real world that time resumed with a jump, the moderator appropriately announcing the remaining thirty minutes left to the test. With newfound confidence, Bridget continued, her alter-ego Ora formulating in the back of her brain as she sped ahead of her peers.

Work as a supposed superhero came slowly to Bridget, not much of the fighting type if truth be told. It took quite a bit of personal practice for her to hone her ability without sending herself into body-numbing panic. The trigger, she found, was a definite and concentrated need for time to cease, its mere fabric stopping in its infinite weaving at her own will. By proxy, resuming of time came with purposeful permission to do so. It relieved her, knowing her power was completely intentional and not heavily prone to accident. That is, of course, save for a few exceptions: angry fights, low emotional points, or even times of high excitement. The conscious decision to return, though, always kept her safe.

Telling her parents proved difficult; how can you explain to someone a power which they cannot perceive? Evidently, by using your time-without-time to move quite a few things around the kitchen, spilling milk and inverting pots, to make big enough of an impact. Immediately, Bridget’s mother took to highlighting news events, especially with the rise of Spectrum patrolling Newhaven. Her father even got her bits and pieces of steampunk-esque attire from Halloween stores for her, and many holidays were filled with bits and pieces of costume paraphernalia for what they disguised as ‘cosplay’ to non-knowing relatives. Bridget’s younger brother even helped her design her sigil. So, Bridget –– Ora –– began to work in consistent bursts: her temporal interruption perfect for throwing any evil-doers off balance and letting her move to a safe place before damage befell her.

Such covert tactics, ironically, got the attention of the Guild relatively quickly. More of a flashy bunch, the Guild seemed keen for a member with less austere tactics and abilities. Under their wing, and within the safety of the Guild’s headquarters. Ora has begun to flex her temporal muscles, just beginning to explore what other variations of time manipulation she can slip into her wheelhouse.

Furthermore, she’s learning to rebuild her confidence; a superhero cannot go around with their head ducked whilst in costume, anyway. The surplus of fellow feminine company obviously helps. Maternal and sister-like figures have thus far helped Bridget to be more open in her dry humor, and even with her own physique as what one would assume is an ‘active’ member of the community, despite her general lack of a quick pace in her tactics. The older gentlemen within the Guild treat her akin to a sister, which also helps in feeling less awkward walking around the halls of HQ. It’s only the new kid, Atlas, that seems to set her stomach to flipping, and she’s slowly starting to figure out why...

Overall, Bridget is a nervous, intelligent, and sweet soul. More one to look before jumping, she sometimes comes off as overly trepidatious. But get her annoyed enough, and she can have quite an impish and mischievous streak. Anger in Bridget brings with it rash thinking and a spike in impulse, usually offset by her own ability. Maybe she’s still a bit trapped in herself, deep down. But that’s nothing constantly trying to save the world cannot fix.

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good

Signature Move: Temporal Interruption –– To put it simply, Ora can stop time; think Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell. Everything freezes around Ora, and she can go around, move things as she pleases, take a nap, go get intel, whack a few people upside the head. Whatever she needs to do, she can, all whilst everyone around her perceives that she did so in a blink of an eye.

Extra Info: 

Sigil: A clock with slightly bent hands, a la ‘Alice in Wonderland’, Mad Hatter sort of deal.

Diagnoses: Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, mild OCPD.

Family:

Mother –– Tara Welsh née Skulkin. Copy Editor, detail-fanatic, socially conscious. Will be the person to go to local protests fr liberal social change, but also the person to correct grammar on posters.Maybe a hair too much on the pulse of current events.

Father –– Emmett Welsh. Convention Organizer, not-so-closeted Nerd-of-All-Things. The type of person that offers to plan every party you so much as suggest you might be thinking of having. Hellbent on tight scheduling.

Younger Brother –– Marcus Welsh. Currently 17, Student, aspiring Graphic Designer. For ‘some reason’, very much into making Ora fan art and Guild promotional posters. Gets sick to his stomach whenever his friends mention wanting to get any type of romantic with his sister or with Ora, which obviously have ‘no correlation whatsoever’.

Color Scheme: Bronze, brown, black.

[vigilante-rpg]

TASK 005 – SPECTRUM

Your fifth task will involve writing a self-para on the events leading up to the start of the roleplay prior to Spectrum leaving and how this inspired/affected your character. You can write about their first encounter with the superhero, either as a civilian or as a Vigilante, or their last. Maybe they’ve only met the hero on one occasion, perhaps their only true memory of him is from within a crowd?

Use this as a tool to root your character into the city and it’s experiences. This can be as long or as short as your feel the need to write. There are no structural requirements for the task and this can be completed at any time. New and old members can pick this up if they have not completed the task, however this can only be completed once. This can be written as a self-para, story style or in other formats such as flashbacks or diary entries.

[gh0st-wr1ter]

Task IV || Salem

Guild Member Name: Salem Face Claim: Michelle Pfeiffer Age: 60 ( 21 When she joined the Guild ) Species: Human Powers & Abilities: Witchcraft and Umbrakinesis

Backstory: Helen Kincaid, or better known by her alter ego name Salem to the rest of the public, was the last of a line of witches established in Colonial Massachusetts whose powers are the culmination of generations of successors. At a young age, she honed her witchcraft to the point of overconfidence, and in her hubris and ambition, accidentally cursed herself while attempting an incredibly advanced and difficult spell from her family’s Book of Shadows. 

The effects weren’t obvious at first. In fact, it took other witches in the coven noticing that the darkness would shimmer around her and that there wasn’t something quite right with her own shadow not moving exactly as she would, like it had a mind of its own. The shadows weren’t anything the other witches in their coven had dealt with before. This coupled with her already quickly growing magical powers only served to make her a pariah by branding her as a bad and dangerous omen sent from the gods. 

It wasn’t long after that when she decided that her powers were better used in practice than wasted in secret in a small town in New England, knowing that if anything, her spite would fuel her into success. Like that, she packed her bags and found work in the city at one of the oldest establishments, the Witch’s Brew tavern… how fitting. The streets of Newhaven were a new training ground for her, and the people who aided in it’s decline were her new subjects to experiment her still developing powers.

Giving herself the name of Salem and feeling incredibly clever and pleased with herself in doing so, Helen spent time instead learning to control and refine her gifts, old and new by practicing on criminals plaguing the city… and on some occasions, taking the spoils for herself. After all, moving from a small town into a place like Newhaven wasn’t cheap, and working behind the counter at Witch’s Brew Tavern was only barely putting food on the table. Eventually her efficient work was noticed by another group of gifted individuals who knew that despite her rather unorthodox way of helping those in need, she would be an asset to their team. 

Salem was reluctant to be such an integral part of a team at first. She was still learning the extent of her powers, and they seemed to place a lot of trust in her that she’d only experienced once before from the people from her home who pushed her away. Being happy to be a part of something bigger, and more selfishly, to spite those who told her she could only amount to something evil, Salem committed herself to the Guild’s success. She started making herself a useful saboteur. Her spells and potions could be used to help and buff her teammates while her curses and brews could be used to hinder the enemy. These avenues were more towards “death by a thousand cuts” route. When she wanted to be more direct and personally effective, Salem would tap into her more potent spells and hexes. This coupled with her newer shadow traversal and abilities put her on a “secret weapon” tier among the other members of the Guild, though she appreciated more when it was her decision rather than something the other heroes could exploit. 

After decades of work, the responsibilities began to take its toll on her, and there are some things that witchcraft couldn’t fix within herself. Salem was like an atomic bomb waiting to explode, and Helen wasn’t sure how long she could keep the fuse unlit for with so much of her power brimming to the surface. She took a step away from the guild, deciding instead to give her powers time to rest. While this worked for the most part, there was a part of her powers that weren’t settling well with inactivity. The Shadow Curse she accidentally bestowed upon herself needed sating or she feared it would have dire consequences and pull her back into the life she happily stepped down from. The solution was simple… the curse wasn’t designed to be broken, but passed along… all she needed to do was find someone with strong conviction that matched hers so long ago when she moved to the city. Someone who could handle it’s burden along with its gifts, who’s will and spirit wouldn’t be broken enough to let what sinister evil lie dormant take over…

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good

Signature Move: The Marionette is a move in which Salem uses her shadow to fuse or interact with a targets shadow in order to control their movements. Which this can be debilitating to those of weak will and strength, it’s only useful if her own shadow is prominent, and can affect multiple targets at once with the right amount of concentration. The marionette can only control motor functions, so the shadow abilities alone couldn’t make one’s heart simply stop beating or lungs fail. Her other magical powers and spells however could be used in tandem for this, making her one of the most dangerous and potentially sinister members of the guild.

Extra Info: 

She is now the owner of Witch’s Brew Tavern... if a character were to go there, chances are she’d be the one serving drinks and cleaning up. You know... if they wanted.

Salem’s color scheme is black, violet, and green.

Her sigil is a green eye on a black field with three prongs coming from the top.

How Soon Is Now? - The Smiths

Her Arch Nemesis is Templar, a self-righteous villain who seeks to cleanse the world of sin on his own super-powered crusade trying to remake the world the world into what he thinks will be a sinless paradise. He quotes the Bible a lot to fit his own narrative. He’s an asshole who like her, has his powers and entity passed down as he is always on the hunt for witches and other things he deems unholy.

She didn’t have her shadow powers to help with the invasion, but she did participate in her usual way with spells, potions, and wards.

Yes, she is absolutely who you think she is.

[aasimkhal-blog]

The First Night//

 OldHaven // Night time

Patty Morrison walked the streets of OldHaven alone as the sun went down. She felt vulnerable because she had stopped seeing the other kids outside. Unlike her they’d had the sense to return home before curfew. Unfortunately she was completely by herself. By herself, thinking about how there were no witnesses around who could take account of all the terrible things that could possibly happen to her. The district was flooded with the latchkey teenagers, the intoxicated adults, and the homeless that chose to come out in the mischievous hours of night time. At 11 years old and as the shortest girl in her grade, Patty knew she stuck out like a thumb. 

Because she’d never been out this late, she feared everything. 

The bullies, muggers, gangs, and worse. In every hidden corner and dark alley she passed, she felt there were ominous eyes stalking her. Like a serpent that was stalking a mouse. Her legs hurt from the long walk and to make the situation worse, she wasn’t getting any closer to her home. Undoubtedly lost, the girl sat on the curb pulled her knees to her chest and started to cry. 

The figure creeping in the shadows recognized his opportunity for the girl was now alone. He wanted her school bag, chances were it could contain something of value. The figure grew closer, and the sounds of his breathing grew heavier. 

Patty shuddered when she heard the clink of a knife being unsheathed. It forced her to peek up, revealing to her the man who’s large shadow darkened her world. She saw the blade in his hand as it was pointed threateningly at her. But even more threatening than his knife, were his eyes. There was a certain desperation to those eyes, one she had recognized from living near The Valley. It was a look developed from being subject to several unfortunate events. It was a look of desperation. She turned away from the man, shielding herself behind her bag, letting out a shrill squeal. 

She waited anxiously for the man to take her. For the knife to pierce through her stomach, for the pain she imagined it would bring. But nothing came. She sat there with her eyes closed for what felt like too long. When she opened them, she opened them to not just one man, but to two. They were caught in what looked like a wrestling match. The armed man with the hungry eyes struggled to sink his blade into the others body. The other man, tall and dark skinned, controlled the mans wrist, keeping the knife away from him utilizing his strong grips. Realizing the man had come to her rescue she yelped with a sudden excitement- a big mistake. It diverted her rescuer’s attention, the homeless man capitalized and stuck the knife into her rescuers belly. Her rescuer dropped to the ground in pain, as the homeless man returned his attention to Patty. 

She wanted to run, her breathing grew heavy from the fear. She tried to take off with a quick leap, but it wasn’t quick enough. Her long hair was her downfall. The homeless man grabbed it as she ran, and yanked her backwards out of the air. She hit the ground with a thud and flinched with pain. She wasn’t much of a match for a grown up.  

The man looked back at the corpse he had left behind. The blood soaked through the clothes and the boy struggled to breath. He shouldn’t be alive long.

 The attacker shook his head, he had made a mistake. Now he’d have to get rid of any loose ends. He looked at Patty, his interest in the bag was now replaced with the fear of being turned in as a murderer. Once more the man made his way towards her.

“Now.. it’s your turn.” His voice was rough. 

Patty tried to scream but a big fist from the man knocked her to the ground, it caused blood to pour out of her nose. As death approached her, she forced herself to face it. Tears rolled down her eyes but she kept looking the face of the  man’s. He raised the knife above his head, just about to bring it down on her skull. She was frozen, too scared to move and too scared to talk. Before he could stick her with the knife, he was tackled to the ground by Aasim. The body of her rescuer was soaked with blood. The red covered both the men now as they rolled around the ground, scrambling for dominance. Her rescuer, who should’ve been dead, fought hard and fiercely for the knife. This time her rescuer came out on top. He quickly pierced the homeless mans shoulder with his own weapon. It had been enough to put the man down. He wasn’t going anywhere now.

Patty was shocked. She approached her rescuer who kneeled before her catching his breath. 

“Hi..” Was all she could manage as she wiped the tears from her eyes. Still terrified by the thought of her attacker.

Her rescuer, obviously thrown off by her voice, took a hesitant step backwards. He pulled up his hood so it shadowed his face. 

Aasim looked at the young girl, he had done it. He’d finally saved someone. He followed her glance, the attacker,

“He’s lost too much blood, he won’t be bothering you anymore.” 

That was the only comfort he could offer. He’d saved her, but killed another... How could one save by killing? Aasim asked himself. It was against everything he’d ever been taught, to kill. Aasim wasn’t raised by killers, he was raised by healers. How could he keep their legacy alive by doing what they were against? The sound of a siren forced him to push aside his thoughts, returning his attention to the situation.

 She looked at him with searching eyes, as he backed himself into the alley that he came from. 

“Wait. Don’t go!” Patty reached out to the strange man. But he ignored her protest and was gone as quickly as he’d came. She heard the sirens as well. She felt small as they grew louder. She feared interaction with the police. They’d ask her why she was outside, or even find a way to accuse her of the crime. As the police cars arrived at the scene, Patty also disappeared.

[henleyxmoore-blog]

→ Self Para: Olympus Mall Heist.

It wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal, it really wasn’t. The mall was large and cluttered, but the egg exhibit was set up in an open area, in view of multiple high points where Nightowl could hide to wait out the night. In all reality, she was more concerned about the rest of the stores in the mall being hit while hers and the mall security’s attention was focused entirely on the egg. And that was her downfall, she reasoned, allowing her focus to shift to the smaller stores instead of keeping her eye on the prize and letting mall security do their damn job. Taking her eye off of the egg for even a moment while she reprehended a petty thief trying to break into fucking Victoria’s Secret and subsequently causing all of hell to break loose. 

This was it. This was inevitable chaos that she’d been feeling the pre-effects of all week long, jittery and anxiety-ridden as she traveled from site to site, watching over these dumb priceless eggs. Briefly, she wondered if someone would manage to show up as backup, but she buried that thought just as quick as it came. She couldn’t treat the situation as if she was expecting help, not when she didn’t know that for sure. And so, she leaped into action. She was doing good, too, downing targets from her height advantage on the second floor balcony, taking out potential thieves like ants as they spread themselves out between the egg and the other stores in the area, trying to maximize their profit. So much, so, in fact, that she wasn’t paying any attention to what was happening right there with her on the second floor.

There were footsteps approaching, she realized, but she realized too late as, in a split second, she was backed up against the balcony railing, strong hands around her throat as her crossbow fell to the first floor with an unsettling crack. Nightowl recognized her attacker, of course, because nothing wasn’t personal between herself and the members of the mob--- they all knew her and she knew all of them, and it was a mutual agreement that they were sworn enemies. “Remember me, birdie?” he growled, and he truly sounded like an over the top supervillain in an action movie. She did remember. He was the hitman she’d targeted on her first night out, the man she’d left injured in the alley without waiting for police backup. He’d escaped--- of course he’d escaped--- how utterly naive of her to think that somehow he’d been incarcerated. Nightowl had no answer for him. One, because she could hardly breath with his fingers tightening around her throat and two, because she didn’t exactly feel like humoring him at the moment. And so, she remained silent, wriggling in his grasp as if she’d be able to escape--- but close quarters combat had never been her strong suit and they were both aware of that.

“Fine. We’ll skip the conversation and get right to the show, then.” Just then, she was thrown backwards over the balcony, knees hooked over the rail as the only way to hold herself up from from a certain death fall. It all played out so eloquently after that, so utterly ridiculous that she considered loosening her grip on the rail if only to end the embarrassment. The hitman strolled casually down the escalator, joining a hooded woman and a few others around the egg’s display case. The woman seemed to look straight into Nightowl’s soul as she lifted the hood, revealing a smirk so large she was sure it would be engraved into her face. The Bo$$. Of course it was her. Who else would it be? Nightowl found that she couldn’t look away even as the villain took a sledge hammer from one of her companions and shattered the glass case around the egg. Alarms blared around them, but the Bo$$ simply picked up the egg in gloved hands, marveling at its beauty. Then, all Nightowl could hear were her heels clacking against linoleum as she made her way safely out of the mall. With the egg. The egg that Nightowl was supposed to be protecting. What a shit show. 

Nightowl was having trouble breathing, throat restricted and blood rushing to her head as she hung upside down over the first floor of the mall, forced to stare at the mess she’d allowed to happen. And, really, she almost felt content with the idea of just hanging there all night and dissociating from reality. But police sirens in the distance jarred her back to the situation at hand. 

With all of the core strength she could muster, Nightowl reached up with her hand, gripping onto the bottom rail of the balcony and allowing her feet to slip over the rail and hang down with the rest of her body. She was nearly out of options here. The next rail was too high to reach, so climbing back up was a no go. So was dropping to the first floor, as that was obviously undesirable. But then she spotted a kiosk just a little bit ahead and she quickly tried to do some calculations in her head, but with the police sirens getting louder and louder and echoing through the mall’s empty hallways, she couldn’t really think straight. A horizontal jump would always be better than a vertical free fall, she reasoned, and so she swung herself back and forth to build up momentum before finally launching herself toward the roof of the kiosk. 

A gasp escaped her throat as she landed funny on her ankle, pain shooting through her whole leg. But at least she was stable. Ignoring the ache, she quickly climbed down from the kiosk, sprinting out of the building just as the police could be heard entering from the other end of the mall.

[bo-abrams]

Egg the City Halls || Task  3

@kato-wolf

The Faberge eggs were leaving Newhaven soon, and there was a definite increase in tension within certain circles in the city. Those in law enforement were constantly checking leads on possible heists and dealing with the increase in traffic and pedestrians that in turn lead to a rise in pickpocketing and other smaller crimes. The underbelly of the city had been largely quiet during the night since most criminals could get their work done during the day with the police caught up in the daily events. But it wasn't quite quiet enough to keep Watcher and the other vigilantes comfortable, particularly when links started showing up confirming the fears of the police.

Watcher was more than a little surprised to get pulled for this mission. He’d considered that the clues and dropped packets of info were meant for someone else, but they’d been left in all the “unofficial” places to contact the Watcher along his normal route. Picking his way across town at dusk to set up had been easy enough. Seeing all the patrol cars, not so much. It was a relief to see Somnium approach, Watcher was familiar with the other vigilante and this meant he’d have backup. Of course, their combined presence plus the police probably meant that whoever had set this up thought there was a real threat to the security of the egg.

Pacing up to the other, he nodded in greeting. "Good to see you, Somnium. This one might be a bit tricky, we've got digital and live surveillance inside the building." Hopefully the other's electrical prowess could help with the former, but then they'd have to figure out how to work around the dozen or so officers now prowling Newhaven City Hall. "The last of the officers got here not too long ago, if you take care of the cameras, I can start tracking patrol patterns. They seem pretty well-prepared so it'd be best for us to stay out of their way. Maybe set up our own route that covers what they don't?"

[thaliawinsor]

Villain Name: Moura (Lorelai O'Sullivan)

Face Claim: Katie Leclerc

Age: 30 years old

Species: Human

Powers & Abilities / Specialities: Siren Song & Sonic Scream.

Moura has been named as such because of the enchanting singing voice that lulls everyone and anyone who hears it into a state of complete bliss. They become completely transfixed on her or the object she directs them towards, which is handy whenever she’s cornered by a pair of Vigilantes and needs to make a quick getaway. She usually uses her song to lure people in so she can steal from them and leaving before they’re aware of what has happened, with nothing but a foggy memory of what occurred.

She can also use her voice to emit a powerful but limited high pitched scream that can induce vertigo or shatter glass. In many cases, the victim is left injured but on a few occasions, she has accidentally killed when things go wrong.

Every time she uses her Sonic Scream Moura pays the price as her hearing continues to fade. Her current disability label is hard of hearing and this has become both a blessing and a curse. Without her hearing aids, she is able to use her siren song and scream without it affecting her in the devastating ways it does others.

Backstory: Lorelai‘s story starts off about as normal as can be and, in truth, despite the petty crimes she commits and the fact she’s an exotic dancer remains relatively so. She was born and raised in Newhaven, an only child to parents who were big supporters of the metahumans when they revealed themselves originally. She grew up with the knowledge that, despite being different, she was safe and loved. She wasn’t born deaf but has required hearing aids infrequently ever since she was 12 years old - around the same time as when her powers manifested. 

She’s one of the more popular dancers at the club but has no regulars so to speak, the ever revolving cast of new targets makes it more than easy for her to pocket their wallets. Most never report the crime because they should’ve never been at the club in the first place, others are simply embarrassed, and the few that are prepared to expose her never get further than filing a report that police struggle to follow up on.

She doesn’t work at The Velvet Fox because she’s a high school drop out or because times are hard. Money is great there, to be honest, and after becoming close with the owner she was able to rent the apartment above at a discounted rate. The money she saves, and the bonus she earns, helps cover the cost of her ever rising medical bills as her hearing continues to reduce to nothing. She’s currently disabled and listed as ‘Hard of Hearing’, with one ear fully deaf and the other partially so, but knows that with the continued use of her powers it’ll only be a matter of time before it’s completely gone.

Lorelai used to teach a moonlight class on ASL at the Community Collegebut lack of funding has seen that as one of the programmes axed in budget cuts. Her increase in recent stealing is in a bid to secure her own, personal, funding to bring that course back. She’s made the mistake of picking the pockets of some powerful men in Newhaven and her name has started to make waves and pick up attention.

Moral Alignment: Neutral Evil

Criminal MO: Her crimes are so repetitive that the only reason she’s not been brought into custody is due to the protective nature of the workers down at The Velvet Fox and her powers. Moura normally lures a particularly rick looking mark with her good looks and charming nature and, once alone, uses her singing to subdue and rob them. In cases of a struggle, you will almost always find shattered glass and a victim with perforated eardrums.

Extra Info:

Moura has no go-to arch-rival with Vigilantes and, for the most part, has managed to fly under the radar in comparison to most other villains in the city.

She doesn’t view herself as truly evil, which in itself is dangerous. She see’s nothing wrong with taking something that isn’t hers when she has the means to do so.

She lives and works at The Velvet Fox as a dancer and has done for a number of years.

The money taken is usually divided up between Moura, the club and then the girls. She tries her best to fund the replacements of anything broken, new outfits or helping a co-worker out in a tough situation. She never takes anything more than what is in the wallet or pockets of her target.

She works almost exclusively from one fixed point. Unlike many who try their best to target different areas or never stay in one place too long, Moura has a home and a place to work from and likes it that way.

Her signature colours are deep burgundy, coral pink and bronze.

Moura is both her dancer name and ‘villain’ name.

She’ll always sign “I’m going to steal from you now” right before singing, to her frustration most never bothered learning ASL and don’t pick up on her warning.

She doesn’t have her own sigil or official costume and doesn’t truly see herself as a villain.

Her powers work on anyone who can hear regardless of gender or sexual orientation.

[sofiaxcorona-blog]

Two Years Ago. Three months after leaving the gang...

Sofia was going out for a drink. She deserved one after all of this crap, and she couldn’t just stay holed up in her apartment and prayed that the gang would never come for her. If this meant living every day as if it were her last? Then so be it. She donned her nicest high heels, put on a full face of makeup and shrugged on that infamous studded leather jacket with a pair of black jeans over a shapely body suit that left nothing to the imagination. When she grabbed her keys and purse, she caught herself in the mirror.

Even under the makeup, she looked tired.. But she looked fierce. Lips red like wine and eyes smoky as sin, for the first time in the last few months she felt powerful. She pushed out her chest, stood up straight and strutted on out. Sofia could feel all eyes on her before she even got to the club, but where before it had instilled pride and confidence, for the first time ever she felt self conscious. She tried to keep her chin up, bitch face firmly set in place as she swayed her hips and flicked her hair. No one was going to stop her from enjoying herself tonight, not a damn soul.

The insecurity quickly faded away as Sofia danced, drank, kissed strangers and laughed like she hadn’t done in years as she spun around the dance floor. The music fuelled her, inspiring her to go on and forget her troubles. She didn’t feel like Black Cherry for once, the right hand of the Bo$$ and murderess extraordinaire. She was Sofia. Sofia Corona. Nothing more and nothing less.

A girl had caught her eye, pretty and blonde with sparkling green eyes. Sofia hadn’t planned on it, but by the end of the night she found herself pressed back against the cool brick of the back of the club in the alley, devouring glossy lips that tasted of strawberry daiquiris, “My place or yours?” She asked breathlessly before nipping at the woman’s bottom lip. She giggled, about to reply until they were both stilled by a shriek. Sofia looked off where the alley only got darker, spying a corner that led to another, where she was sure the shriek came from.

She pushed off of the wall, but then found herself being dragged away by the blonde, “Let’s go, hurry!” She begged in panic, but Sofia gently pried her hand off of her and squeezed it tightly. The choice between someone’s life and a good lay had never been an easier one to make in her life.

“I’m going to check it out,” She told her with a hushed whisper, “You go back, get someplace safe.”

The girl hesitated, but then nodded and agreed, turning to flee back through the door they’d slipped out of. Sofia knew she wouldn’t see her again now, but the whimpers of the victim she simply couldn’t ignore. Even in killer heels, she jogged to the scene and there found a woman on the floor cowering. Sofia remembered seeing her in the club earlier, and thinking about it, she remembered seeing the two men that loomed over her too.

They were rifling through her purse, muttering to each other that she barely had anything of any worth save for a twenty. Sofia felt rage flood her, adrenaline spiking when she stepped forward and yelled at them, “Hey! Get the fuck away from her!” Her voice boomed, echoing through the alley. The men looked up, initially with smug looks on their faces that some tiny ass woman was confronting them… But then she saw their faces turn white as sheets when she stepped into better lighting.

“Shit shit-- That’s Black Cherry!” One whimpered in fear. The other jumped on the spot before both turned and fled, dropping the purse as they went. Sofia stared wide-eyed, the anger leaving her as she watched them vanish into the night. A new feeling rose up within her instead, a sense of pride and power. She felt good for what she had just done.

The dark haired woman on the floor slowly got back to her feet, snatching her purse up from the ground before she turned to Sofia and flung her arms around her tight, “Thank you! Thank you so much, I don’t know what they would’ve done if you hadn’t…” She started to blubber and sob, her words fading to tears as she clung to her. Sofia hesitated, but then wrapped her arms around her gently, comforting her as she let the shock pass.

“Can I walk you home?” Sofia asked her, still somewhat shell shocked herself. That was the first time she’d ever really stood up to anyone without having any backup, and to think, it was just the sight of her that had scared them off. That right there was true power.

The woman agreed to letting Sofia walk her back, and after heading a couple miles back to The Basement, “They called you Black Cherry, are you a new vigilante?” The woman, who she learned was called Maria, asked.

Her lips pursed, “Uhh...” She hadn’t really thought about that, but Maria seemed too excited at the prospect to even let Sofia really consider it.

“That’s too cool! I’ve heard of you guys, but I’ve never actually seen anyone. And to think, tonight I got saved by one, that’s gonna be one hell of a story for my friends to hear tomorrow.”

Even hearing that stunned Sofia, that this woman, this stranger wanted to talk about that experience with others - and to be proud of it too. It almost made her feel like a celebrity, and that pride she felt before came flooding back to her, making her walk a little taller, “Yeah. Let ‘em know Cherry’s on the block now.”

At Maria’s door, Sofia bid her good night. But just as she turned to go Maria quickly called after her, “Wait!” Sofia blinked and looked back at her, seeing the woman looking suddenly bashful as she fiddled with her keys, a blush in her cheeks, “Would.. Would you like to come in for a coffee?” She asked.

Sofia bit her tongue, trying not to feel too smug but damn, how could she not? It’d be another thing for Maria to brag about to her friends tomorrow. She gave her a pearly white smile, “I’d like that.”

[lyra-rey]

Task 4 | Guild Member: Daybreak

Guild Member Name:      ↳ Daybreak

Face Claim:     ↳ Oscar Isaac

Age:     ↳ 510 (looks 35)

Species:     ↳ Human/Unconfirmed Demi-god

Powers & Abilities:     ↳ Regenerative Healing & Enhanced Strength

Backstory:     ↳ Edgar has gone by many names over the years, but he began as Kasakir, a warrior among the Mayan K'iche' people. He and his sister, Yamanik, were thought to be the reincarnation of the Hero Twins, the boys who conquered the Death Lords and were dubbed the rulers of Earth by the sky gods. However, they were born to a pair of lowly farmers and the two never realized there was something different about themselves until an illness spread through their lands--one that killed everyone around them, except them. Their parents died from this plague, but notoriety built around them with claims that they couldn't die. When Kasakir was stabbed through the gut and lived to tell the tale, the others in their village began to believe it to be true. Words spread about the twins who couldn't die and the current king of the K'iche' kingdom did not like the idea of the supposed Hero Twins taking his throne. But before any of that could happen, the Spanish conquistadors invaded Guatemala. Kasakir volunteered to act as a spy and fought along side his K'iche' commanders. When the Spaniards burned the K'iche' leaders alive, Kasakir tried to find a way for him and his sister to escape, but he lost track of her during the attack.

For years after, he continued to fight to try to find her. He followed his people wherever they were pushed and protected the innocents as best he could, all while vowing vengeance on whoever had taken his sister from him. But no matter where he looked, she wasn’t there. He left his people to find her, using any clues that he could find to pinpoint her whereabouts. He searched for sixty years, but could find no trace of her. It was then that he changed his name for the first time and never told another soul his birth name again.

It didn't take long for him to realize that he would not age anymore and after wasting so much time searching, he tried having a normal life. He settled down and went back to his roots as a farmer, but after he was forced to watch his wife and children die, he vowed to never do so again--a vow he would forget about multiple times in the future. Regardless, he chose to travel instead, knowing that the growing Christian missionaries would see him as a demon if he stayed in one place for too long. He moved along central America, learning new languages and skills as he went, always introducing himself with a different name. He became a better swordsman and an even better shot with a rifle as he boarded a ship for the first time. From piracy to legitimate seafarer, he was able to visit countries such as Portugal, Congo, and India. He stayed in one place just long enough to absorb their culture then moved on. He fought when he had to, but he preferred to keep his head down.

In his 500+ years of life, he has lived through many trying times. He manages to maintain his sanity by giving back to the world and finding those who he believes to be genuine and kind. He takes comfort in knowing that even when the world is twisted, there are always people trying to heal it. However, he is not without his weaknesses and his loneliness is definitely a reoccurring problem for him. Whenever the feelings begin to creep up, he usually tries to start a new family, which always backfires in one way or another. Recently, however, he decided to renew his search for his sister, figuring that the newer technology might be able to help him. Upon arriving in New Haven in 2010, Edgar caught the eyes of the Guild by single-handedly stopping a robbery. While initially opposed of going into the limelight, he figured that if his sister was still out there somewhere, maybe she could come to him. And so he remained, an immortal warrior to the group, enjoying the company of his comrades while he still can. After all, he knows they will die eventually, like they all do 

Moral Alignment:     ↳ Neutral Good

Signature Move:     ↳ Hand to hand combat has always been his preferred way of fighting and he is known for bringing in a wide variety of fighting styles from his centuries of studying. Typically though, he will use a spear-thrower (atlatl) to bring his intended victim down then will fight them with his fists until he wins. From there, his finishing move is always with an obsidian knife that he claims to have had since he was a boy.

Extra Info:      ↳ His sigil is of a sunrise emerging from a crescent moon which represents the Hero Twins that he and his sisters were believed to be.     ↳ He has several journals that he has kept over the years of his adventures and experiences. While he uses them to keep track of his fading thoughts and memories, he still prefers to tell stories in the oral tradition that he was brought up with. While a few are written in English, most of his journals are written in his native K’iche’ language.     ↳ Also just a little fun fact. His original name Kasakir means Daybreak in the K’iche’ language.

[vigilante-rpg]

TASK 004 - THE GUILD

The Guild are a collective of like minded heroes of exceptional ability who help protect the Earth. Some with near God-like abilities, they are the best of the best and responsible for keeping the peace and protecting the world from dangers we’d otherwise be destroyed from. Only those of the highest calibre are called up to their ranks but it’s not all glitz & glamour. The life of a Guild member is full of treacherous danger and decisions where their own safety is always put after others.

Your fourth task should be quite a fun & simple one. Each member of the roleplay will be able to create one member of The Guild. Where we’ve asked you to be reserved and limiting with your Vigilantes powers and abilities, there are no such limits for this task. The Guild are essentially this roleplays version of The Justice League or The Avengers. Go big or go home, get as crazy and out there as you please. Get creative, nothing is off limits and please ensure you’re tagging the task with #talkvig so we can keep track. Once every Guild member has been completed we will be making a Guild page and your creations will become part of our canon story. The face claim rule will still apply and the fc’s you choose will be listed as taken also. 

The short form to complete will be under the read more, you can go as in-depth with this as you please and we just ask you have fun with this! There is no time limit and this can be completed at any point. We do just ask that members check to ensure there are no duplicate heroes and the powers used aren’t too similar to those already in the roleplay.

Guild Member Name:

Face Claim:

Age:

Species: 

Powers & Abilities:

Backstory:

Moral Alignment:

Signature Move:

Extra Info: (Such as Sigil’s, Known Arch Nemesis, Theme Song. Anything!)

[gh0st-wr1ter]

Task III || Written Aesthetic

Talon

Flannel that faintly smells of Gain and downy. Hiding literature inside the binding of a comic book. Rolled up dress shirts and a loose tie. Urban suburbia during a summer shower. The light of a phone screen after ghosting a late night text. Leaning backwards on a chair at a work desk. Falling asleep with hands resting on a hot laptop keyboard. Accidentally drinking orange after using toothpaste.

Pitch

Broken in fitted leather. Bruised knuckled middle finger. The silhouette against a full moonlit night. The dark matter inbetween stars that never ends. The dream that no one seems remember where it starts or ends. Questionable Amazon search history. Moves Like Jagger. Backflips and aerials while sucking on a lollipop. 80s rock and pop classics through a stereo. Really loud swearword strings. Kill Bill whistle.

[vigilante-rpg]

TASK 001 - CONNECTIONS

Your first task will be focusing on your character and how they interact with the other characters of the roleplay. This is with the hopes and intentions of forging concrete relationships that can be built off of between the players and fuel any plot ideas in the future. 

You can either create a page on your characters blog and post in the Wanted Connections Discord Chatroom that this has been created or post to the dashboard and have that linked on the blog.

The first step will be to create certain roles and think up plots you’d like to follow with your character, giving them titles such as “The Best Friend”, “The Competition”, “The Supportive Friend”, etc. will give you a tidy base to work from. Writing a small and ambiguous blurb that further explains the relationship this connection has to your character is crucial to the task. 

This will require both your own work and reaching out to your fellow roleplayers to agree on a relationship between the two characters, whether currently held or one that will be worked towards in the future. Exploring whether or not their Vigilante / Alter-egos have conflicting relationship status’ with another character will most certainly add to the fun, i.e. your alter egos may get along but your Vigilante persona’s may be rivals. 

It is important that all members actively take part in this task. If you need assistance or advice on creating a page, finding subtable inspiration for relationship and connections, or getting in contact with players please let the admins know so we can help. 

[vigilante-rpg]

TASK 007 – FANFICTION

Hello loves! I wanted your newest task to be something a little more lighthearted and fun, especially as we move towards more intense plot drops & events. This has been teased for a while but we would like for you to create a short piece of fanfiction focusing on the Vigilante characters in the roleplay. These should be written in the usual format, unless you have an alternative style idea that the admins have approved, and posted using the #talkvig tag.

The fanfiction should not include your own Vigilante in any way. It should be written taking into account any false information that may be public, incorrect assumptions or just ‘fanon’ facts that have become popular, as opposed to knowledge that the general public may not know about them. It can be of any genre, though as always please remember to tag anything that requires it, and we do ask that if you choose to go the romantic route that things fade to black rather than going too graphic. 

We encourage you to use any traditional fanfiction tropes you may be a fan of or to think outside the box if that’s more your speed. NPCs are allowed to be used during this task if you feel the need - though the focus must be on at least one Vigilante.

We will assume that every member is okay with their Vigilante being written about by others unless you let one of the admins know immediately - this will avoid any confusion or upset without restricting others. It goes without saying that we expect the fanfictions, whilst intended to be nothing but fun, to not be offensive or insulting towards the characters you’re writing about. If you are uncertain please speak to the admin team or run the idea past the mun.

As always we can’t wait to see what you come up with and we’re excited to see some lighthearted silliness on the dash <3

[vigilante-rpg]

TASK 006 - THE VILLAINS

Much like our previous and popular Guild Member task we’d like you to continue fleshing out the roleplay world and adding in new NPCs for us to reference and work with. Though instead of focusing on the good side of the fight we’d love for you to create, flesh out and share with us your ideas for Newhaven Villains.

This sixth task should be an interesting and fun one, where you get the chance to explore characters that terrorises the city in their own way. Try your hand at creating anything from petty criminal to all out super villain. Try to work with other members to create someones arch rival rather than just a character to oppose your own Vigilante, or just someone so wide reaching they can affect anyone.

There are no true limits on the character, though we do just ask that members check to ensure there are no duplicate heroes and the powers used aren’t too similar to those already in the roleplay (either with characters, NPCs or other Guild / Villains made for tasks.) We also encourage you to explore using FCs that differ from ones previously used; i.e. POC, NB/Trans, Disabled, Varied Ages etc.

Should your character in anyway, through the Bio or other facts, contain references to triggering content please ensure you tag and warn ahead of time. Nothing is too dark for the underbelly of Newhaven, we just ask you take into consideration others when posting.

The short form to complete will be under the read more, you can go as in-depth with this as you please and we just ask you have fun with this! There is no time limit and this can be completed at any point. As always make sure you tag the posts with #talkvig and make special note if you’re open to the idea of other members referencing your NPC in future threads!

Villain Name:

Face Claim:

Age:

Species:

Powers & Abilities / Specialities:

Backstory:

Moral Alignment:

Criminal MO:

Extra Info: (Such as Sigil’s, Known Arch Nemesis, Theme Song. Anything!)