Modern Fighter Begins! Finally!

[Weasel Overlord]

Mewtwo-D2:

Hey, guys, sorry this is so late. It's been a pretty stressful few weeks, but I'm finally starting things. LSU's are perfectly acceptable- just run them by me.

Anyway, let's start:

Code Name: Random X
Actual Name: Rachel Xavier
Age at time of death: 21
Year of death: 1937
Cause of death: Murder- thrown from the top of the Woolworth Building in New York City by a demon-possessed friend
Personality: Thoughtful, patient, and hard-working. Has developed a bit of a complex about heights because of her method of death. She rarely takes shortcuts, and can be a bit wearing at times, but she only wants to make sure she does a thorough job of everything.
Description: Has long brown hair tied up in a loose bun on the back of her head and olive green eyes. Wears a black pinstripe men's suit- pants and unbuttoned vest- a maroon woman's Fedora-style hat tilted over one eye, a clean white shirt partially unbuttoned, and a dark blue silk tie, tied low. Also wears a pair of black high heels and black, back-seamed fishnets. Her weapons are a pair of dark blue laquered chopsticks that she wears through her bun. Her noisemaker is a three-ringed silver bracelet, and her capturing method is a large camera.
Obligatory Other: Spent from 1934 to her death working in New York City, trying to get money to send home to her family in upstate New York. Through hard work, managed to land a job as a secretary to a newspaper mogul. While working, she met and fell in love with a reporter. They planned to marry in 1937, but the reporter had a friend who was also in love with her. His jealousy opened his soul to be taken over by a demon. He invited Rachel to see the Woolworth Building with him and made advances on her when she went. She refused him, and in a rage he threw her from the sight-seeing platform. Is working to collect demons for Hemera.

Random X
~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/center]

Wind rushed past me- stealing my breath, my sight, and drowning out all other sound. I may have screamed- I can't remember. I can only remember that pressure, that horrible howling, and the one thought that dominated my mind- I can't be dying. I can't die now, not this way. I'm too young to die. To important. This is a nightmare, like a thousand other nightmares about falling. I'm going to wake up on the floor.
My eyes were squeezed shut... I couldn't have opened them if I tried. But I was going to wake up on the floor. Death couldn't feel like this- my life wasn't flashing before my eyes, and I saw no light. I was still alive, still alive still alive still alive alive alive alive alivealivealivealive......

I felt no more.

Eventually, my eyes could open again. I was on the sidewalk of a gray, shadowy street. I looked around, confused. Broadway... must have been one hell of a fog to drown out all the lights. I could see the crowd in the fog, but they didn't seem to be moving too much. Just kind of standing around me... I turned my head a little- finally, some lights. Bright red and white, flashing. Wait, that wasn't right. Maybe I tripped in the fog and fell on the sidewalk. Hit my head on a lamp-post or something. I was fine though. I slowly pulled myself to my feet to tell the ambulance to keep moving. I was fine... I put my hands up, but two men in white coats continued towards me. Just doing their job... lucky stiffs who still had a steady job. To my surprise, they didn't talk to me, but knelt in front of me.

"What are you looking at?"
Neither answered, but the younger of them looked like he was about to be sick.

"Think the police need all of this?"
"Nah, from what I hear the guy gave himself up...."

Needed all of what? Curious, I looked down....

My body, if it could be described as that. A pool of blood around what was barely recognizable as a human form. I couldn't take it in- hardly even a hint of my face was left. I had been pulverized....

Dead... I was dead. The nightmarish fog on Broadway pressed in deeper and deeper, swallowing me up in the grey.

[Weasel Overlord]

I already apologized for being late on this, but I'll do it again! SORRY!! *whimper* Hopefully other people will post too..*cough cough*

Code Name: Flaring C
Actual Name: Fiona Connolly
Age at time of death: 18
Year of death: 2004
Cause of death: Accidental - Her soul was mistakenly sucked out of her by Random X's camera.
Personality: Was rather carefree and a bit of a party animal in life, but after her accidental and unexpected death, she's grown a bit more bitter about the world and easily angered. She does always try to do the right thing, though...
Description: About 5'6" with very long red hair (orange red, not red red) pulled back into a high, thin braid except for a few strands that hang down on either side of her face. Has cream-colored skin and a few freckles under her dark brown eyes. Wears a reddish-brown vest top that cuts off at her stomach (showing off her mid-section) and matching shorts with rolled-up cuffs, along with a pair of pointed black ankle boots and black, fingerless gloves with leather straps. Her noise maker is a small golden cat bell that she wears on a chain around her neck, her weapon is a pair of bladed fans that she keeps tucked into the back of her belt, and her soul capture item is a tape recorder (any voice it captures brings the soul with it).
History/Obligatory Other: She was unknowingly harboring a demon's soul inside of her, which is what drew Random X to her. While she was out partying at a night club with her fiance, she went outside into a back alley for some air. She suddenly saw a flash of light from a camera and instantly died. She found out later, in limbo, that Random X's camera had somehow taken her soul instead of the demons, for reasons not yet known. Because of this she harbors a grudge against Random, but works with her to collect demon souls for Hemera anyway. She's the "rookie" of the group since she's only been dead two years and has only recently been given the offer.
Other Other: She has a latin inscription tattoo encircling her right bicep that reads: 'Qui tollis peccata mundi misere nobis'

Fiona Connolly/Flaring C:
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Wed. October 13th, 2004 - 12:46 AM[/u]

The pulsing vibration and rhytmic thumping of the bass echoed out into the otherwise quiet night air as I opened the door in to the alley behind the bustling night club. Since it was already mid-October, a crisp but refreshing breeze blew across my face that was beaded with sweat. The sky was completely clear that night and the moon was nearly full, beaming down from overhead and illuminating the alley, except for a few dark corners and nooks.
"Fiona!" I heard the voice of my fiance call out over the nose of the crowd behind me. I looked back over my shoulder in order to answer.
"I'm just getting some air, Daniel. I'll be back in a minute!"
"Alright! Hurry back, babe!"
I smiled and closed the door behind me, still able to hear the muffled music through the wood and brick. I sighed and leaned back against the cold wall. I hadn't been resting longer than a few seconds when I heard a small sound. It was the sound of a shoe scuffing against pavement and gravel and it had come from one of the remaining shadows cast by a large dumpster near the back of the alley. Following my better judgement, I decided to stay by the door.
"Hey! Who's there? If you're planning on mugging me, you'd better just forget about it. I know Tae Kwon Do, buddy!"
There was no reply except another scuff, followed by a strange click that sounded like it came from a camera. Great... a stalker or some kinda pervert trying to get my picture... I thought with a roll of my eyes.
"Alright! Listen here! Why don't you run along now before I call the pol-"
"At last... I've found you, demon." Said a mysterious, female voice with a forceful but calm demeanor.
"Huh? What are you...talking about?"
My question was never answered. Instead, I saw the figure sidestep out of it's hiding place and into a spot of moonlight. I was only able to catch a quick glimpse of a woman's body in a pinstripe vest and pants, a Fedora, and a rather large camera before a blinding light that was brighter than the moon flashed before my eyes. The imagine before me instantly blurred as I felt myself going unconcious, a strange feeling of separation coming over me as if my soul itself were being sucked away...
Little did I know how right I was....

****
Current Day - 6:45 PM

"Hmph..." I muttered under my breath as I cast a sideways glance towards X, who was casually examining her camera across the table from me. The night I died was still a vivid memory for me, and every time I recalled it, it brought with it a feeling of bitterness toward my "teammate". After all...it was her fault I was even dead in the first place. Sure, she hadn't meant to suck out my soul, but an "oopsie" like that wasn't an easy thing to get over. Mostly for me. X was already past it.

Even after becoming a Modern Fighter and learning the reason why Random X had confronted me in the first place it didn't seem to ease the transition any. One minute you're an 18-year-old, carefree girl, engaged to the man of your dreams, and the next thing you know you're dead. Without any rhymn or reason to it. Ironically, I had always been in perfect health my whole life and didn't make any enemies that I knew of. But still... I ended up this way anyway. The reasonable part of me knew that I should try not to be so angry at X. She was only doing her job and just happened to make a mistake. But hey, mistakes happen, right? ....RIGHT? Even though I knew that, my bitterness tended to win over it more often than not. After all, I was still only 18...

"So....X....what's the next target, anyway? You haven't said anything about it yet..."

[Weasel Overlord]

Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! I'll post now. Do not kill me, please!

...Though this'll probably be angsty.

Code Name: Stained Q
Actual Name: Shan Quentin
Age at time of death: 20
Year of death: 1957
Cause of death: Drug overdose due to malpractice

Personality: Bitter. Very bitter. His previous life was far from being full of milk and cookies, and so he fostered a great desire to cease existing, which he still has. He knows what he plans on doing is considered wrong and he should be sickened at himself for doing it, but his personal wish is strong enough to override that and his almost restored gentle nature.

Description: Shoulder-length auburn hair with straggly bangs that threaten to cover his muddy-green eyes. His skin is sickeningly pale from lack of sunlight, and he is dangerously thin. His eyes have slight bags under them and he seems to constantly look tired. He stands around 6'2" and wears jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a thin blue flannel. Oh, and a pair of battered sneakers that were accidentally dyed a vibrant green. His noisemaker and weapon are the same thing: a handgun with special bullets that cause the spirit to adhere to the metal, locking it in place. He captures spirits by writing the name of the soul within a small black journal. This is trickier for demons, because Stained must uncover their name. He's not too concerned about that.

Obligatory Other:
~History: Shan was not normal. For as long as he could remember, he felt cut off from the world, alienated from reality. Life was a constant nightmare that he walked through as though he were a ghost. He was able to act normally, and most considered his distant air as him being spacey. He felt as though he was going insane, as he began to question whether he or the world around him was real. Then it seems, one day, he did snap. An idea entered his mind at the age of 17: working under the theory that the world was real, the best way to prove that he was real was to affect the world in a strong, permanent way. The best way to do that was to kill someone. Unfortunately, he followed through, murdering one of his classmates. Afterwards, he felt a peace and solidity he'd never experienced before, but it also became painfully apparent that there was something fundamentally wrong with his mental state. Instead of sending him to prison, he was placed in an insane asylum for an indefinite period.

Asylums in the 1950's were far from ideal. Not only was there harsh treatment for the slightest infraction, Shan was basically cut off from the outside. His family saw him for a few months then never appeared again. His only connection to what laid beyond the asylum's walls was his friend since middle school, Kathy. However, these few bright spots were overshadowed by his own mind's workings. Periods of normalcy were intercepted with days of being catatonic to the point where he had to be force fed. The other extreme occurred as well. He would enter almost homicidal rages, which led to restraints, solitary confinement, and the liberal use of a new tranquilizer, Thorazine. If his depersonalization disorder was bad before, being trapped in two different nightmares--one waking, one sleeping--lead to almost agonizing numbness, and the fact that Kathy had stopped visiting didn't help. It wasn't until his final year that he learned that Kathy had died in a car accident several months earlier while on the way to see him. This was the final amount of weight needed to crush Shan in both mind and spirit. One of the doctors at the institution saw Shan's complete surrender and lack of will and decided to become his angel of mercy. He purposely prescribed a lethal tranquilizer dosage which ended Shan's life.

Then Shan found himself in limbo, his personal fears and nightmares come to life as he found himself drifting aimlessly, fully aware of what was around him, or not around him. When the offer came to leave limbo, Shan leapt at the chance, at least at first. He soon realized he wanted none of the choices. He didn't want to exist at all. Guessing that Hemera would never grant such a request, Shan turned to Nyx, asking if it was possible to destroy him completely, or at least allow him to fall into an endless, dreamless sleep. Nyx said she may be able to, but she wouldn't unless he gathered souls for her. Feeling ready to find one thousand souls for this hope of nothingness, Stained begins his work.
~Theme Song: "Thank You for the Venom" by My Chemical Romance


Shan Quentin/Stained Q
***********************
Year: Mid '50s

Day? Month? Hour?

I didn't know.

Did that matter?

My life was already in a half-haze. Breathe, sleep, eat and drink when they told me. Who 'they' were was becoming more and more ambiguous as each moment I could recognize passed. It didn't matter. I willed it not to matter. I tried to think as little as possible. I was just waiting, really. Waiting for my mock existence, my nightmare, to end.

I thought it finally did. I could almost feel as he placed yet another needle into my flesh that this shot was different. It burned, but it was the sort of burn that I felt after wading for an hour in a mountain lake. My legs had burned then, but it was a burn showing that life was returning to my limbs.

No, the sting was melting away. Good, I was starting to worry a little....
~*~
Current Year

I took another bite out of the hot dog I got from a street vendor. I didn't really need to eat anymore, of course, but it was much easier to loiter on a bench if it looked as though you were doing something. Sunlight that filtered through the trees speckled the road they lined. There was the steady rush of traffic and the hum of pedestrian conversation. There were some birds on the tree limbs doing the best they could to shout above the racket. I shifted to the side as a mother with a stroller passed by, but that caused...it to press against my side.

The gun Nyx had given me was for not only detecting the presence of a demon in a host, but also to trap and evict it. The bullets were designed so that if there was a demon, it would only remove it, not the soul of the host. Of course, as a noisemaker the gun was horrible, considering how anyone reacts to a gunshot, and I wasn't after demon souls anyway.

I licked off some mustard that had slid onto my finger. Hypothetically, if there was a demon, I could just shoot twice, but I didn't want to waste time, and I didn't want to waste a shot, even if it didn't seem I had an unlimited ammo supply. Also, I wasn't certain that would work, and I wasn't sure how to fire a gun without freaking out everyone within earshot.

Of course, there were always ways to work around the uncertainty.
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....Well, I posted, at least.