Evil's Return: The Sign-Up Thread

[mauve]

Same here-- I'm definately interested, but I'm still working on my sign up sheet.

[Raiden]

Hmmm...my character would fit better with the Society, but everyone and their mother seems to be going with that so they could have magically enhanced guns...

LOOKS LIKE AHM GONNA GET CREATIVE ON ALL YER ASSES.



Character Name: Thomas Silva

Gender: Male (and a damn good-looking one at that)

Age: 26

Organization: The Fingers of Twilight. They're a very small, very select group of demon hunters, believed to be an off-branch that formed from The Society many years before. Should anyone find enough interest in themselves to look up the history on the Fingers, they would find next to nothing, except perhaps a few diary pages describing a group of Society Members that performed breeding experiments between humans and demons for a more efficient hunter. Of course, stories like that are just make believe.

Class: Teacher (He teaches much, and teaches little. It all depends on how open your ears and mind are...)

Special Abilities: Startling Appearance. He's very attractive, what with his long blonde hair and almost piercing blue eyes. He's the sub that all the girls want detention with. (I HAD a cool special ability, but...you know what? I don't feel like typing it. Look at my sig, and replace the word 'signature' with 'kick ass sword powers that can slice through galaxies for the hell of it.')

Bio: Thomas Silva. Parents were Samuel Silva and Rosa Silva. Graduated with a degree in Education and Teaching from several institutions, somehow from all of them at once. He is a teacher. He teaches. Being a substitute teacher, he of course moves from school to school, sometimes from state to state, in order to teach. What does he teach? Why does he teach? No one knows. No one asks. If any asked, he would surely answer. After all, answering questions are what teachers do best.

From the desk of a certain Society higher up, CONTENTS ARE CLASSIFIED

Sir, upon your orders, we have researched into a one Thomas Silva. Rumors floating about of the Fingers of Twilight acting on their own seem to be correct. He has the markings of one. Of a half breed. James was ready to gut him then and there. However, he does not seem to have the characteristic aggression or underlying hostility that many half-breeds showed. In fact, he happens to be quite good natured. He has rarely ever frowned in all the time we have been watching him. None have come to harm that have crossed his path. The only concern we hold would be the magical power he seems to possess. As an offshoot of The Society, the Fingers have access to our arcane knowledge of the Incantation methods, and from our studies seem to be putting it into action. We have witnessed several incidences that could only be explained by a flagrant use of Incantation. A young boy skinning his knee on the playground was healed after sir Thomas mumbled into the boy's ear. A girl saddened from his class was suddenly cheered up with a shower of bright red balloons that mysteriously appeared from the ceiling. A rain cloud was shooed away to clear the day for a soccer game. In these incidences, no runes were used.

Sir, we are requesting a larger inquisition into the activities of the Fingers. We do not yet know their full intentions, but by the actions of their members as of late, it seems to be focusing around the Mother of Hell. Thomas Silva himself is currently the substitute in one of her classes, almost as if he were planted there by his organization. If the Fingers are siding with us, we would greatly appreciate his help. However, if you hear word that they are seeking her death, please report back immediately so we may dispatch this would-be assassin.

[END REPORT]

Equipment/Belonging: A clean pressed white shirt. Khaki pants. Several thick books of varying topics in his tattered book bag. Thin-rimmed glasses that perch on his nose. A tin box filled with various gems and precious stones (focal points for the larger incantation rituals). Spellbook (in case he forgets some words to an incantation....what? Even teachers need a book that has the homework answers.) Four knives carved from a glittering black stone (likely obsidian).

[Astral Harmony]

Just got off of work, and hell yeah I'm still deeply interested in being the Mother of Hell. Hit me up with dat PM, yo!

[Raiden]

Young lady, we do not speak the language of the street in this classroom. *ruler crack*

[Astral Harmony]

Or rather, my imitation of the language of the street that infuriates Batgirl.

EDIT: The PM has been received and my profile is complete.

Character Name: Laurella Kalvatine

Gender: Female

Age: 18

Organization: Official (S.E.C.A. Dependant)

Class: Mother of Hell

Special Abilities: None

Bio: The blood daughter of Matthew and Alleone Kalvatine and the adopted daughter of S.E.C.A. agents Rick and Patricia Ferguson, Laurella has had to come to terms with her cursed destiny from an unbearably early age. Yet, she tries hard to put her best face on it and press onward regardless of the fact that any day, corpses could be made of the people she knows and loves just because of what she is: one who is destined to open the path to apocalypse or close it and save the world until something else comes along.

In spite of her outlook on her own situation, Laurella forces some semblance of a normal life upon herself, such as trying to make friends and go out on dates. Mother of Hell she is, but a normal woman is what she believes herself to be first and foremost, and it's going to take a lot more than the brutal murders of her parents to prove her otherwise.

Laurella stands about 5' 5" tall and weighs 107 pounds. Her hair is brown, and she styles it in a ponytail that hangs to her neckline. Her right eye is grey and her left eye is red. And her youthful body has developed well enough to draw plenty of eyes.

Equipment / Belongings: A pendant with a photograph of Matthew and Alleone, a steel grey military-style girl uniform which she wears to school (think the SeeD Cadet uniforms from Balamb Garden in Final Fantasy VIII), and her personal diary.

[secretskull]

This is typical of my luck. An RP I want to join, and my computer dies on me, just long enough for an enormous amount of people to sign up for it. If you are still accepting players I would like to join too.

[Mintaro]

Character Name: Caleb Baltazar. "One shot" Caleb.

Gender: Male

Age: 45

Organization: Vigilante hunter, formerly a Warden

Physical discription: 5'8" 230lbs. Muscular. Thinning brown hair under a Fedora. Haunted blue eyes. Horribly scared body wrapped in a Trench coat. The gravely voice of a man who's seen too much.

Class: Veteran Gunslinger

Special Abilities: Mark of Life and Death: Caleb was born with a blessing upon his right arm. At the wrist a birthmark sits, in the shape of a small black ankh. It allows Caleb to channel his life energy into any weapon he wields with that arm. The effect of the attack varies based on how much life energy he expends. A year of life will create an effect, originating from the strike point, in a rough 12 yard radius.

Any target(s) of Caleb's will, within the effect of the ability, will be killed in relation to the amount of life used. This is my rough scale. (I'd like to make it so I can use it more, but lets see what you think first eh Toasty?)

1 week: Least Demons, blast range 3 yard radius

1 month: Lesser Demon, blast range 6 yard radius

3 Months ( > & = relative to strength): Blood summoned, blast range 9 yard radius

6 Months: Demonic Hybrid, blast range 12 yard radius

As for greater demons, probably enough to kill him as well.

The blast is in the form of a bright white light. It burns away anything Caleb wants dead within the attack. There is no explosion or noise beyond that of the gun.

Bio: Caleb's birth was actually predicted. Shortly after he was born holy men came to plead with the parents to allow them to train their son. The parents refused, not believing that demons existed in the earth plain. They followed a devout Christian faith. Caleb was brought up as a Christian. He was 15 when he first met a demon.

While at a friends birthday party some of the kids sneaked away to the basement with a book of demon summoning. Thinking nothing of it they attempted to summon a demon from the pit. They were surprised beyond belief when the demon actually came out. The screaming brought Caleb and a few others to the basement. The Demon was attacking the children. Though grateful for being summoned he was not about to leave without having some fun.

Caleb showing no fear grabbed hold of a golf club and attacked the creature. He used his ability naturally, the strike was followed by a brief flash of light. Then the demon was gone. The kids at the party were not about to believe what had actually happened. So they all made up a story about a badger to explain away the injuries the children had sustained. Caleb new the truth however.

When Caleb's 16th birthday came around the Holy men came to visit again. Hoping the family would now let them take their son to be trained. His parents again refused. Caleb however knew in his heart that it was what he was meant to do. So that night he ran away from home, he found the holy men and went with them far away. To live in a mountain temple of another country. There he was taught about Demons and about how to use his abilities, as well as the price it cost. He was taught of the Mother of Hell and of the secret plague of Demons that existed.

He trained until he was 22. He then was inducted as a Warden. He worked as a Warden for 15 years. Making friends, and becoming well known. He did his best to not use his ability. Time and again however he was forced to use it. He figures over all he used 8 years of his life up.

He finally left the Wardens after a horrific incident. While checking out a rather large hell cult with 2 Warden friends, the three of them were lured into a trap. They were all three knocked unconscious before they had a chance to defend themselves. The three of them were tortured for 2 days. They were cut and scared all over their bodies. The procedure was done to weaken the body and mind, in order to allow them to be used for their true goal.

Each one of them was to be used as a blood sacrifice. To summon Demons into the Earth plain. His friends were sacrificed first. Each one giving birth to an abomination against god. While Caleb was being dragged over to the summoning circle he managed to get his hands upon a small pebble on the ground. They chained him to the circle and began the incantation. Caleb channeled 3 full years of his life into the Pebble. More then he had ever before used. He dropped the pebble to the ground. There was a flash of light, a short chorus of screams from those inside the room, then silence.

It took 2 more days of laying alone in the darkness before other Wardens came to find out the fate of the three. They found Caleb laying on the ground, nearly dead. They quickly freed him and took him to a hospital. It was too late to save him from the horrible scaring that covers his body. They did however save his life. He was never the same after that. He quit the Wardens, and went to work as a private detective. Occasionally doing small time demon hunting.

He has spent nearly 10 years in the bottle, but he still remains one of the best Hunters out there.

Equipment/Belonging: His main weapon is a special made 8 shot .44 magnum. He owns quite a large assortment of guns however (I could name guns all day but you get the idea). He still has 12 magic bullets from his Warden days. Including one that cost him over $1000. A specially crafted shot he simply calls 'Armageddon'. He had it made after his incident.

Edit-M107 50 cal sniper rifle, its deadly and pretty. A tour de force.

He wears conservative clothing to hide his scars. Long sleeved shirts under a trench coat. Jean pants and combat boots. He always has a bottle of Booze on him.


Ok I think thats everything. Let me know, we can talk about it in PM if you want. Also I figure he'd probably be an old friend or acquaintance of "Red eye" Jackson.

[Akamaz]

Character Name: Kasey Morgan (case)

Gender: Male

Age: 17

Organization: Warden

Class: Umm.. Biker Monk (see the description below)

Special Abilities: he knows a bit about sigil magic, more things that are useful for combat and detective work (he prefers to use everyday items to make his sigils, a true sight sigil may be inscribed on a pair of sunglasses, or a communication sigil on an earring

Bio: Kasey was raised among one of the Romani families that still travel around the US keeping to the nomadic lifestyle of thier gypsy ancestors

Some Basic Information about his fighting style: He's more of a melee fighter, preferring to get close in. His fighting style is a hodgepodge of several "hard" styles that he calls "Ass Kick Fu"

Equipment/Belonging: Custom "Supertrike" motortrike, Slightly beat up black leather jacket (with kevlar armor pads sewn into the lining) White muscle shirt, Studded fingerless black driving gloves with spirit strike sigils engraved into the studs, Black engineers boots, metal chain link belt (silver) with an iron padlock for a buckle.

[Demetrius]

I'll take a spot if they're still open, going to go Warden recruited to a Religious Society, but I'm at work so I'll post my character later today.

Basics:

Name: Harold "Harm" Harden

Gender: Male

Age: 34

Organization: Blood of Saints (BOS), a division of the secret societies of the Vatican.

Class: Knight Protector

Special Abilities: Telekinetic: Can burn his essential energy to physically affect objects in contact with him, mostly limited to small objects and self protection.

Bio: At roughly 5' 8" and 240lbs, Harm looks slower than he is. His healthy tan and easy smile make many forget that when pushed he can put his fist through a rhino, without using his powers. Harm has been involved in the martial arts since childhood, beginning with basic Wing Chun and eventually branching into other areas to round out his skills. Originally a Warden, but recruited in BOS after the incident that killed his family. A group of Satanists in deeper than they knew were attempting to summon a demon, an elder demon. Harm's cell managed to find them, but at heavy casualties and not in time to stop the whole summoning. Harm and two other Wardens managed to finish off the weakened cult members, but were unable to stop the demon. Harm survived only because the demon decided it wanted to have more fun with him. It dragged him back to his home and slaughtered his family in front of him, first raping his daughter and wife and then tearing them limb from limb. BOS was the group that showed up and shoved the demon's head up its own ass before dispatching it. The leader of the strike team, Solinus, cleansed the souls of his family and offered Harm a place in their ranks. Solinus later became the leader of BOS and remained a huge influence in Harm's life, keeping him from insanity. Harm passed up promotion after promotion over the years to stay active in the field. He has a deep hatred of all demons that pushes him far past the limits of the 'normal' paranormal, often resulting in harm to himself. Harm eats, sleeps and breaths the destruction of the demon forces and those who aid them. Fortunately for the Mother, his group supports her continued existence as a means to combat hell's forces. Harm is employed at the school as a grounds keeper, allowing him to wander about looking busy while not doing too much.

Combat Style: Harm is generally a melee fighter, utilizing and meshing the principals of SWAT hand to hand, Jiujutsu, Akijitsu, Judo, Hop Kido, Philipino Weaponry, Chi Gung, Wing Chun, American Boxing and Kung Fu. Harm is unable to craft sigils, but is trained in triggering sigils already cast.

Belongings/Equipment: Harm is normally dressed in grey coveralls with scuffed work boots and an old school basketball hat worn backwards . He keeps his hair cut short and his back straight, he can't hide the years of discipline that have shaped him. Despite a bluff appearance many students trust him and seek him out for help outside of the academia, which he is happy to offer as long as it doesn't interfere with his ‘second job’. Harm keeps a room at the mansion as well as a small apartment roughly equidistant from both school and mansion. It is a humble place, but well kept with a lawn that is the envy of the neighbors.

Fists of Doom: Yeah, his hands are registered as lethal weapons.

Constantine's Guard (relic): A permanent Sigil granted to the protector of the Mother, this sigil appears normally as a silver ring, but when activated it summons a suit of armor best suited to the wearer's combat style. For Harm it encases his body in a tight silver metallic material that hardens when impacted, serving as a sort of kinetic dampener against penetration.

BOS Knight's crest: Talisman worn around his kneck identifying him as a ranking knight as well as a sigil granting the ability to see the paranormal normally hidden from human sight. This remains inactive normally and can only be used for a short time due to the heat generated and the necessity to keep in contact with it when active.

Arrows of Jonathan: The Arrows are a set of heavy leather gauntlets that allow corporeal contact with the incorporeal, very handy, but they drain Harm's ability greatly and remain a last resort.

Sword of Solomon (relic): Given to Harm by Solinus when he was given the assignment to protect the Mother, this is the sword passed down from David to Solomon and one of the more powerful relics possessed by the Knighthood. Faith is essential in wielding the Sword. The sword is essentially a bane of demons, it harms them more than a normal blade and wounds inflicted by it resist healing.

Sigils known:

Blood of Saints: This sigil is inscribed across the right side of Harm’s chest and down his right arm. Harm received this once he took the duty as a protector. Once activated Blood holds the body and soul together for a short time after they should have parted, allowing for the completion of a sworn oath. This sigil is only to be used in the most dire of circumstances, its use puts the wielder before Judgment and if the reason is deemed unworthy the soul is banished to oblivion. It isn't pretty, but you're dead anyway.

[PyrosNine]

Well, I left my sign up sheet at home and I'm typing this at college, but I couldn't help but notice Raiden that your sign up mentioned a "James" in the society wanting to kill him.

That could not be farther from the truth!!! (much)

I would also like to point out that I wanted either a martial artist demon hunter, or some sort of biker, but those were taken whilst I was sleepin'.

So I must now announce the bare bones that i can remember of my revised character.

Character Name: Task Malben

Gender: XY!!!!

Age: 16

Organization: Vigilante/Society

Class: Thief!

Special Abilities: Knows Prince of Persia esque Parkour running, limited magic ability.

Bio: An orphaned thief, living it up in a mansion by himself. It certainly doesn't happen very often, but this was because it wasn't HIS mansion. The land had once belonged to a great wealthy old geezer tied to a strange lodge club of other old geezers, and they apparently wore robes and said incantations. Of course the old guy was dead now, having been killed by something or other. Word was he was killed by some sort of monster, and his place was haunted, but Task had always countered it was probably because he was OLD. Strong winds have slain greater old men.

On a dare after middle school, the often picked on Task was forced to enter the creepy estate and see if he could find a way in and bring out a sign of the man's horrible demise. A blood soaked bedsheet or shirt was preferable. This proved to be no hard feat, as Task was one who was always running, always looking for a way out of the things that menaced him. Especially the bullies giving him trouble now.

He'd fallen in with the some of the free running crowd, who ran along walls, ran up buildings, and slid down rails with their feet. They did it for fun, they did it for artistic expression. Task found himself doing it to get the hell out of trouble, and occasionally into it. Few things could keep out a thief who could run up a wall, leap over to a nearby tree and then rebound back up the building, right into an open window. Which was precisely how he got into the mansion.

The insides were empty, drafty, yet very brightly colored, with blindingly whitewashed walls and a deep crimson carpet over a marble floor. The place...she was a beaut. Statues, grand dining room complete with candles and preset tableware, a fireplace in every room, more than enough bathrooms for a diarrheatic convention, and there was even a private theater. HOOKED TO CABLE!

The place was delight to visit, and Task had a great time wandering it's halls...at least...at least until he saw the bloodstain.

It was splattered on the nearby whitewall, like a splash of red paint, and it dripped ominously. Task noticed the door opposite the bloodstain, and despite not wanting to, looked. The room was a mess. The place had been wrecked something fierce, the sheets ripped and torn and lying in an amount of blood that could not possibly have just come from an old man. The bed was in two, crushed in the center, and large claw marks raked everything. Including another flatscreen tv and a collection of solid gold statues of other famous old guys.

It looked like something out of a horror story. And little did Task know...it was. He knew he had to grab a sample of it. He didn't have to prove himself to anyone, but at least it might get those stupid jerks to leave him alone for sometime. Yeah. HE'd be the kid who brought back the ragged blood stained piece of cloth, and everyone else would think he was some sort of psycho. Of course, he could get in trouble with the feds for tampering with a possible crime scene, but what were they going to do? Prison seemed better than the orphanage.

He sauntered into the room, making sure not to get blood on his shoes and leave any bloody footprints for others to follow, and reached over to the bed. As his hands reached onto the sheets and tugged...he felt a sudden prick on his palm. He pulled the covers over, and revealed a large ornate dagger lying upon the bed, it's end poking through the sheets. Checking his hand, he felt a sudden moment of deep dread. It grew and grew to the point that he could no longer stand it, and then...a trickle of blood began to seep from his hand.

As if a billion klaxons in his head went off, the room suddenly became less "Awesome!" and more "Hellish". He thought he heard noises. He felt a billion eyes staring upon him. Deep breaths. Slithering. And then....a roar. Two eyes suddenly stared at him, their fierce intensity burning away every other eye and noise. Task instinctively ran out of the room like a bolt, and sensing as if something would follow him, he slammed the door behind him. Even then, that did not seem like enough...the presence was coming. It would rip right through that door. It would devour him.....

The door. It must be locked.

Task looked down to see there was key in the door handle he was holding. How fortuitous. He quickly twisted the key, heard the lock "click" and stepped back. The door, which once seemed as frail as particle board, now seemed stronger, impenetrable. A light green glow flowed from some ornate markings on the door Task had not noticed until now, and the sudden sense of dread was gone, replaced by a sense of peace....

After that, Task went home as pale as a ghost. But in the days to come, he found himself drawn to that place. He would return to amble through it's halls and and explore every nook and cranny, but stay as far away from that bedroom as humanly possible. It was possible too, what with 5 different ways to get to any spot in the building, from lateral elevators, outdoor paths, secret servant passages. No sliding bookcases, though. Or at least, he didn't find any.

With time, Task ran away from the 'home' he stayed in, with the dozens of other unwanted children and began to live in the mansion, alone. No one ever came to the house, servants, caretakers, cleaners or otherwise to cut the grass or clean up the mess in the master bedroom, and for that Task was thankful. The amenities never were cut off, and there was actually plenty of food stocked away in the many fridges and storage rooms about the house. (Granted, most of them using some form of Prunes)

Here he honed his free running techniques, safe from bullies and the law, and lived about as up as you could. I'll go more indepth in my posts however, as just describing how awesome it was for a young orphan thief living in a great mansion would make this already long post too long.

To make a long story short, eventually someone did come to the mansion. A lot of someones. Old geezers in robes, young men with swords and shiny emblems, and even a few handguns came to play. As a thief, Task was quick to hide and remain hidden, watching unobserved from corners and ceilings. Within minutes however, Task knew what they were after, and he cringed. They were concerned about that room. They knew what had happened in there and were returning eventually to clean it up, but something recently drew them there, and they had to investigate. Task was afraid. What would happen if they opened that door? Would that thing escape? Was it even real?

Would they be mind that he let loose something in the manor? Or ate all those prunes?

To his shock, their leader, a really old guy, did not open the door. He walked through it, the glowing symbol becoming what looked to be some sort of portal. Within a few moments, he returned, holding the ornate dagger carefully, with glowing gloves that seemed to protect him. But then, something bad happened. With a silent wave of his hand, there was a floating red dot in front of the dagger. And that red dot began to move, creating a line as it went. This glowing red line moved and snaked around...and headed for task. Task did not know what was going on. Only he knew that this thing might give him away, and that could only lead to trouble.

He inched away down the hall, quickly and quietly, until he felt a presence before him. It was less ominous than the one he felt in the room, but for practicality purposes, it was just as bad. One of those young guys with swords was there, holding his aforementioned weapon at Task's head. Task turned around to see the old guys in robes, and the red line snaking ever closer. Task recoiled back, only to feel the tip of the sword poking his spine, and suddenly the red line lashed out, grasping his hand.

His hand burned , the roar returned, and Task screamed as he collapsed to the floor.

The next thing he knew, he was lying down in a bed in another room of the mansion His hand was bandaged and throbbing, but even weirder was the glove covering the bandage and the headband upon his head, each adorned with another symbol, and colored green.

The next few days were a blur, rushed along by stern old men who scared the shit out of the normally very anti-authority task. There was harsh tutoring in algebra and literature of all things, teachings of symbols, lore, and of a very surreal history which a large part Task did not believe to be anything more than fairy tales. Then, there was some very real things happening. Photos taken. Haircuts. Fingerprints taken. Adoption papers, countless signings, and even at one point there was a body training instructor who scared Task so much Task ran up the wall, leapt over to the light fixture and swung his way into the ceiling boards. It was a shortlived victory however, as they soon caught him again and he was soon worked hard to improve upon THAT too. He was taught to use daggers, at such a speed that they used real daggers and hoped the bloodloss would be an incentive to improve quickly.

The point of all of this? The group who discovered him was it's own portion of the Society, suspecting that there were other factions seeking to put a stake either on or in the new mother of hell, and these did not trust the others. They needed a nobody with the requisite skills, but even in the super secret cults it was hard not to dig up something on someone else, either with money or magic. So when a literal nobody with some fairly decent skills pops up with a newfound magic ability....

He was placed into the same school as the mother, but not in her grade. He was to keep a Full Metal Panic distance away from her at all times, yet watch her, be the eyes and ears of the select few of elders. In return, he would be taken care of in the mansion, and trained to be a respectable member of the society. While this wasn't entirely all that great, he soon learned the reason for his newfound magic powers and the reason why he wanted to remain with the society.

His physical training instructor gave it to him as delicately as possible. "You're as demon possessed as hell. I mean, there are people who are pretty fucked out there, but you are beyond them. You are royally, majorly fucked. You have no chance in hell. An unnamed elder demon who knows only chaos, hatred, destruction, and pain beyond pain is connected to you by that knife cut you got like an umbilical cord. You are like a snowflake on the sun. You aren't gonna die, but you will suffer an eternity of such unpleasance that will make you wish you could kill yourself beforehand, but that would just speed up the process to your torment. Now, stop showing that retarded look and give me 100 push ups, and then Shit tzu over there is going to make you do some more of that kungfu monkey stuff."

Equipment/Belonging: Aside from his sneakers and his sneaking gloves, he carries around a pair of concealed knives on his person at all times, but can also carry a sword. In the way of magic, he carries about a stack of post-it notes carrying the sigil for "unlock" and for "explosion". The gloves and headband he wears keeps him from becoming possessed by a demon, and also allow for a bit of filtering that leaks him out an amount of magical energy for sigils and chants, and various other magic necessary stuff.

He only shares 2 classes with the mother of hell, a gym class and an extra course (whatever. Home Ec, Shop, Theater, Art. Spanish, etc. No matter what other class she's in other than core classes. No one notices this though.)

I'll pm you the Demon bit, He who B-burns toast, for your approval or rejection. I hope you approve, or Kitty will be sad!