H
Hillan
Guest
Rule #1: Don't talk about Fightclub.
His hand sliding out of his pocket as he reached for the handle off the door, firmly grasping the cold steel as he pulled it down, hearing the mechanic inside of the door open as he emerged into the room. It was the New York museum of modern arts, that currently had a exhibition on geological art pieces – mysterious minerals included. Pulling his hood over his balaclava clad face, he tightened his leather gloves, gently walking through the museum his black leather shoes tapping gently against the marble floor.
Making his way to the exhibition he produced a flashlight from his pocket, shining on each of the pieces of modern art, grumbling something about 'abstract art my ass' as he did. Stopping when he heard footsteps approaching – the security. Speeding up his search for his loot, he arrived at the right art number that the black market art dealer had given him. The glass casket it was inside of was painted black with lead, disallowing anyone to see inside of it. The would be thief sighed, using the flashlight to smash the glass – which alarmed the guards, as the two guards began running towards his location.
Putting away pieces of glass, he quickly found that his search was for naught, as the piece of rock he was looking for wasn't present, only finding a empty monter underneath. "Stop right there!" The guard shouted at him, while the other one was calling the police. "Fellas, fellas, fellas." He said, holding his hands behind his head, walking backwards towards them. Dropping his flashlight to the floor, and as it hit the floor, he vanished. Appearing in the middle of the two, his hand on their guns, he jerked his arms backwards as hard as he could, throwing the guns out of their hands. "That's no way to treat a visitor" The guard threw a punch at him, and he was gone again, the guard's hand hitting the other guard's flabby stomach "Ow! Jim, you asshole!" He cried. "Oh, shit, sorry Hank! Where the hell did he go?" Hank asked, Jim looking around. The vanishing man stood at the exit, chuckling. "Smell ya'."
Hitting the alarm as hard as he could, the reinforced steel bars began coming down in the exhibition room while the alarm cried at a ear shattering volume, and like a mirage, the man was gone again. Appearing on a rooftop a few blocks away. Pulling his hood down, he took off the mask revealing his face, his brown hair getting caught in the wind. He sat down on the roof. "Now what do I' do." Jason Campbell asked himself, digging a protein bar out of the pocket on his pants, musing over his next move.
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| NAME: |
Jason Edward Campbell
| NICKNAMES: |
Jay, 'Slick'.
| PLACE OF BIRTH: |
Longhorn County, Texas.
| SPECIES: |
Human
| D.O.B.: |
19 Januari, 1995.
| AGE: |
20
| SEX: |
Absolutely.
| SEXUALITY: |
Straight as a scimitar.
-
| ABILITIES: |
Runes:
Jason has been inscribed with three different runes, the original one, a eighteen crossing line, looking like the leatter 'C' over his entire left breast muscle The C-Rune allows him the ability to teleport - to alter space in such a way that it slings him through space almost instantly. Following that, he has another rune inscribed on his spine, lines crossing over his spine in the shape of a staff, allows him to perform impossible feats of physical strength, speed, dexterity and agility. Lastly is the rune on his neck, looking like a messy squiggle of a ancient language going down his right collarbone. This rune is the most important one, as it is what powers him, it feeds of of the negative part of the Vis, The Nox, increasing his power the more heated a fight gets. This rune also allows him to sense the presence of Hellions.
| SKILLS: |
Jason is a experienced street fighter, turning trashcans into powerful projectiles and tire irons into practical weapons. While he's been in a lot of fights, he's got little formal training, dropping out of boxing in high school after only two months.
Jason's natually gifted in geography, able to easily get a idea of where he is at any given moment, he also has a excellent sense of direction.
He lacks textbook knowledge, as he can't tell you who was the 10th president of the country, but he does possess street smarts. This translates to his skills as a Venari, as he's not much for reading old tomes, but prefers to learn on the job. He's picking up a lot of old versions of modern languages, and is able to read latin and old german almost flawlessly from what studying he has done.
For being a Novice Venari he's skilled in combat, as well as tracking but lacks a lot of knowledge of weaknesses and strengths of his foes. He's fairly skilled handling a blade, and carries his father's old military issued bayonet knife.
| LIMITATIONS: |
Not one for thinking ahead, he's impulsive and impatient, usually portin' first, asking questions later. He's got a nack for landing himself in trouble and taking a beating for it. After intense use of his powers he has to take several days to recuperate, leaving him vulnerable to possible threats.
| WEAKNESSES: |
Jason runs out of power quickly if he's not getting harmed in a fight, he only thrives in a fight where he's taking as many punches as he gives. While he can take more punishment than a regular human, he's still very much so mortal, a punch gives him a bruise, a knife makes him bleed and a bullet can kill him.
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| BACKSTORY: |
- Born to Bruce and Mary Campbell, a former soldier and a nurse in Longhorn County in Texas.
- He's the second son of the Campbell's, his older brother, Thomas is 3 year
s older than him. - Jason was a happy child, no traumas, he had a normal childhood
- Got jealous of his dad's investment in his brother, but Bruce payed little attention to him, he felt like
- In his tween years he latched out in school, getting into fights and acting up.
- Starting high school he began getting involved in minor crimes.
- In his Junior year he got knocked out one night after a street fight, and woke up with a aching pain in his chest, soon finding out he had a mark on his chest, and in the coming weeks he began exploring his ability to teleport.
- He was sentenced to Juvenile penetentory for 8 months in his senior year after a liqour store hold-up. His father died during the time he was locked up. Devestated, he tried going straight, to be a better man than he had been - to be a man his dad had been proud off.
- He was approached by the man, one Sage of a ancient order. A Master Venari going by the name "Varjas" whom explained that he was the one who had put the rune on Jason to begin with, for he had the power to become a Venari.
- Jason's was initiated as a Venari, but before his training could begin properly, having only received three runes, Varjas vanished, leaving Jason alone.
- Jason has spent the last two years traveling the world, fighting monsters where he can, learning as much as he can and honing his abilities.
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| NAME: |
Bellatrix Rose Morgan
| NICKNAMES: |
Bella, B
(Trixie or Trixabell if you wish to annoy her)
| PLACE OF BIRTH: |
Salem, Massachusetts
| SPECIES: |
Magni
| D.O.B.: |
October 31st, 1995
| AGE: |
20
| SEX: |
Female
| SEXUALITY: |
Heterosexual
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| ABILITIES: |
Bellatrix is an adept-level magni. A fierce weaver of chaos magic, she is able to unleash her destructive arcane powers in a variety of ways. Primarily, she tends to release the energy in aggressive blasts, using a variety of techniques depending on the situation. For example, she might unleash a wide, unconcentrated wave of power in order to wipe out many foes at a time. Alternatively, she may fire a barrage of smaller, more focussed bolts in rapid succession to wear away at a specific target. She can also exert control over the energy, using it to erect protective shields or to form a large pair of ethereal, claw-like hands. These hands are much stronger than her own body, and allow her to lift large weights and generally apply strength which she would otherwise lack. Finally, being a mistress of chaos, Bellatrix is able to bring misfortune upon her foes through the conjuring of curses and hexes. Unlike her aggressive magic, which takes the form of fiery red magic crackling with crimson power, Bella is surrounded by shining red runes and glyphs when casting these spells.
| SKILLS: |
Bella is very calm-minded; she meditates regularly and practices yoga where she is able. All of this helps to keep her thoughts clear and her decision making sound; whilst she is often considered to be quite reckless, she actually puts a lot of thought into whatever she does. She's reasonably intelligent, a trait of most magni, but lacks the self-discipline. Bella is great at keeping secrets and can be trusted with almost anything, providing she isn't made to feel betrayed. In which case, she is very good at seeking vengeance by exploiting the information she is privy to. Bella is sarcastic and witty, which makes her a fun teammate to have as she is fairly easy to get along with. Bella speaks fluent Latin, which is an incredibly useful skill in the magni world. She is fit and flexible, so is able to move quickly and evasively, but she is by no means athletic or physically strong.
| LIMITATIONS: |
Bella's powers are fuelled by chaos; that is, disruptions to order. Whilst there is always a degree of chaos in the air for her to tap into, situations of conflict and disaster are the perfect batteries for her to siphon power from. This makes her a formidable opponent in battle, but much weaker outside of combat. When using the Hands of Balk'ul, she is only capable of feasibly lifting up to a tonne, and for short periods of time. Anything heavier than this brings her a great deal of mental and physical strain, and her movements can often be frantic as she fights to release the weight as soon as possible. Her curses are capable of bringing limitless bad-luck upon victims, but mostly this takes shape as various misfortunes and inconveniences resulting in minor injury. Her curses cannot cause people to die. When conjuring protective shields, she tends to erect fleeting barriers of energy that only remain intact for long enough to protect her from one attack; this avoids straining herself at the cost of prolonged protection. She is able to maintain domes of protection, but at great physical and mental strain and a large drain on her powers. She tries not to rely on this for that reason.
| WEAKNESSES: |
Bella is physically inept in situations of combat, and relying on her magick can be both a blessing and a curse. Her powers grow stronger with the level of conflict, and so she can often be a 'slow burner' at the beginning of battles. She is easily overpowered physically which makes her a prime target for kidnapping. She must also have contact with the ground for her powers to work, as otherwise her connection to Balk'ul and the chaotic flux is ruptured; picking her up effectively neutralises her. Bella is mentally quite fragile, and puts a lot of effort into keeping a calm headspace. If she is overwhelmed and unable to maintain clarity of thought, her decisions can become reckless and land her in danger.
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| BACKSTORY: |
Bellatrix Rose Morgan is the only remaining heir to the Morgan legacy. A powerful lineage of witches, the family acquired their inherent mastery of chaos magick through cunning deception several hundred years ago. The matriarch at the time convinced the chaos entity Balk'ul to strike a deal with her, using carefully chosen words to lure the spirit into falling into her trap. Now bound to the family's bloodline, Balk'ul would sacrifice his power; existing in eternal servitude to the eldest female of the family, which would become known as the Heir.
Bella's parents were Elijah and Andromeda Morgan (it was tradition for men married into the family to adopt the Morgan surname), and with her maternal grandparents deceased, Bellatrix' mother was enjoying the powers that came with being the current Heir. The Morgans possessed untold wealth via a competent mix of inheritance and strategic marriage, meaning the family spent a lot of time together in their luxurious manor house. It was important for Andromeda to be at home; for the past several decade, the Morgan Heir had been responsible for the protection and preservation of an ancient artefact, known as the Persite Relic and said to possess untold power.
Before Bellatrix had even returned home that fateful day, she knew that her life would never be the same again. Something stirred inside her, shifting and rising from its slumber and making her aware of its presence. The rest of that day was a blur: she watched as the flames licked her beloved home, she mourned as the police informed of her parent's demise, and she wondered in the realisation that she was the new Heir to Balk'ul's servitude.
But unfortunately, the power of chaos magick was all she would inherit: due to an error in her parents' will, the Morgan fortune was on lockdown until proper evidence could be provided. And, since her home had been burned to the ground... Bella had little chance of ever acquiring it. She spent the next few years on the streets, flitting between homelessness and living with distant relatives as she tried to find her place in the world. But something always brought her back to Salem...
She'd been honing her control of Balk'ul's abilities, and she soon realised that with his gifts she could finally resolve the unfinished business she had here in the city. She was going to find out the motive behind her parent's murder and avenge their deaths. And soon she did: the Persite Relic was never found in the ruins of the blaze, and Bella spent many months tracking it down. If she could just retrieve it, maybe she could reach some sort of closure...
His hand sliding out of his pocket as he reached for the handle off the door, firmly grasping the cold steel as he pulled it down, hearing the mechanic inside of the door open as he emerged into the room. It was the New York museum of modern arts, that currently had a exhibition on geological art pieces – mysterious minerals included. Pulling his hood over his balaclava clad face, he tightened his leather gloves, gently walking through the museum his black leather shoes tapping gently against the marble floor.
Making his way to the exhibition he produced a flashlight from his pocket, shining on each of the pieces of modern art, grumbling something about 'abstract art my ass' as he did. Stopping when he heard footsteps approaching – the security. Speeding up his search for his loot, he arrived at the right art number that the black market art dealer had given him. The glass casket it was inside of was painted black with lead, disallowing anyone to see inside of it. The would be thief sighed, using the flashlight to smash the glass – which alarmed the guards, as the two guards began running towards his location.
Putting away pieces of glass, he quickly found that his search was for naught, as the piece of rock he was looking for wasn't present, only finding a empty monter underneath. "Stop right there!" The guard shouted at him, while the other one was calling the police. "Fellas, fellas, fellas." He said, holding his hands behind his head, walking backwards towards them. Dropping his flashlight to the floor, and as it hit the floor, he vanished. Appearing in the middle of the two, his hand on their guns, he jerked his arms backwards as hard as he could, throwing the guns out of their hands. "That's no way to treat a visitor" The guard threw a punch at him, and he was gone again, the guard's hand hitting the other guard's flabby stomach "Ow! Jim, you asshole!" He cried. "Oh, shit, sorry Hank! Where the hell did he go?" Hank asked, Jim looking around. The vanishing man stood at the exit, chuckling. "Smell ya'."
Hitting the alarm as hard as he could, the reinforced steel bars began coming down in the exhibition room while the alarm cried at a ear shattering volume, and like a mirage, the man was gone again. Appearing on a rooftop a few blocks away. Pulling his hood down, he took off the mask revealing his face, his brown hair getting caught in the wind. He sat down on the roof. "Now what do I' do." Jason Campbell asked himself, digging a protein bar out of the pocket on his pants, musing over his next move.