Nethermorphs (STARTS. LSUs limited)

[Mystic_clown]

A harsh light awakens you. Your head is pounding as you slowly and painfully open your eyes. Your sight is assaulted by nothing but white for a brief moment. As your vision focuses, you see that the ceiling is pure white. It’s almost blinding, hurting your eyes.

You slowly sit yourself up, noting that your whole body is in pain, not just you’re head. It’s not unbearable, but rather a dull ache, though it’s nonetheless painful and annoying. You notice that the whole room is pure white, even the bed you were laying on. It appears that your clothes have changed as well, though you really can’t seem to remember what you were wearing last.

You try to remember what’s happened, how you’ve ended up here. However, all that comes up is a blur, a swirl of colours and pain. Even your clearer memories are slightly hazed.

The pain begins to subside as you pull yourself to your feet, looking around the room. There are no windows at all, and the only points of ‘interest’ are the light, the bed you were just laying on and a full body mirror on the wall to the right. A door is on the opposite side of the room to you. It seems bare, sterile, unsettling.

You look at yourself in the mirror. You can’t help but feel there’s something different about you, not how you feel, but how you look. You can’t seem to pinpoint it.

As you ponder this, you can hear a soft chuckle coming from all around you, just barely audible. You look around to see where the voice could be coming from, but see nothing, not even a speaker.

Just then, a voice speaks.

“Ah, you’re awake I see,” it says, clearly the voice of a middle aged man, even judging by his voice, you can tell that this man isn’t entirely sane, “Now, I presume you have plenty of questions, and I intend to answer them.

First of all, you can simply refer to me, as “The Doc”. I’m the one responsible for your new state of being.

Confused? Well, we made a few “changes” to your person. Let’s just say, you really cannot be considered human anymore. You are now, what we’ve dubbed, a “Nethermorph”.

As for where you are, well, you’re in a small, secluded island lab where we used perform some of our top experiments. Now it’s just where we keep our failures. Don’t get me wrong of course, you’re not failures. You’re here to test out your new ‘capabilities’.”

The voice chuckles softly.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably wondering who “we” are. Well, unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to give you that information. But let’s just say, it’s in our best interest that you make it out of here in one piece.”

The Doc pauses for a moment, letting all this sink in. You’re on an island and some voice tells you you’re no longer human? It just seems a bit much at the moment.

At that point, the Doc starts speaking again.

“Well, that’s about all you need to know. So, enjoy you’re new home for a couple of days or so, take in the sights, learn and master your new abilities. I’m sure the local ‘residence’ here will provide you with ample opportunities.

Now my little monsters, enjoy yourselves.”

As the Doc falls silent again, his words ring in your head. Local residence? Something tells you these aren’t going to be the friendly type…or the human type for that matter.

Then something strikes you. Monsters? Does he mean there’s more than one of you here?

Slightly curious and knowing very well you can’t just stay in here, you slowly approach the single door at the far wall. Your hand trembles slightly as you hesitatingly reach for the handle. You’re not sure whether it’s out of fear or something else.

Slowly, you turn it and open the door…

Ok, here’s the situation people. You’re a human-turned-shape-shifting biological weapon. That’s right, you have the ability to shape-shift, and I don’t mean simply changing your appearance to resemble someone else, I mean transforming your limbs or even your whole body into resembling things that look like they crawled out of hell. Got absolutely nuts with the transformations (and if you are nuts, this will be an advantage). However, let me point out you that at the beginning, you will have absolutely no experience in using your powers, so nobody is going to be changing to horrific, multi-eyed gods of death. The most you’d be able to pull at the beginning is about an arm or a leg or whatever. You’ll also have some regeneration properties, but this wont make you invincible (or tolerant to insane amounts of pain).

This RPG is taking place on a small, castle island that was formerly used as a laboratory (think the mansion from Resident Evil 1, only bigger). I’d like to point out that this place is HUGE! So I don’t want people getting from side of the island to another only a matter of minutes. There will be a few discarded weapons lying around, but your main form of defence will be your powers. So if you happen to find a shotgun laying around, I don’t want you using it for the whole RPG, unless you’re going to use it as a club or are very good at conserving ammo.

Finally, you’re not alone here. The island and castle/lab is crawling with former experiments, in other words, horrifying mutated crimes against god. I’ll leave what they look like, how they fight, etc. up to you as you encounter them, but please be creative.

Ok, now I want people who are dedicated to working on this, so, I’m exercising my right to deny people entry if I feel they will not do a good job.

Now that all the explaining is out of the way, onto the sign ups.

Name: duh
Age: 17+, unless you want to arrange something. PM me if you do.
Gender:
Former Appearance: what you looked like when you were human.
New Appearance: The changes don’t have to be significant, they, can be as subtle as you like.
Personality:
Powers: apart from the transformation, what other abilities do you have? Eg; advanced regeneration, some psychic capabilities, etc.
History: take note that the more recent the memory, the more blurred it is, so please do not include how you got here, that will be revealed later. Just give your basic history.
Relationships: I’m not entirely sure whether I should include this one, but here you go.
Other: please refrain from feeding-I mean mutilating the other.

Ok guys, I'm limiting the LSUs, mainly for the fact that I'm only wanting a few mores girls in this RPG, just to balance out the whole gender thing.

Name: Jackson Pryce
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Former Appearance: He stands at 6 foot with a lean build. He has dirty blonde hair which reaches just past his shoulders and frame his thin, yet handsome face. He has a pair of deep brown eyes behind a pair of round-rimmed glasses.

For clothing, Jackson wore a dark blue shirt, brown pants and black shoes. Over this he normally wears a white coat and is usually wears a pair of white gloves when he’s working.
Appearance: He still has the same height and build, however, his more chiseled, much to his surprise. His hair is longer and is a now pale blonde, his skin complexion is also significantly paler, almost white. His eyes seem to take a more reddish shade of brown as well, although he still wears the glasses.

Much to Jackson’s surprise, he’s wearing a black leather body suit, with a good number of belts and buckles on it. This includes a pair of black, knee high boots. It reaches up to his neck, like a turtleneck, yet his hands remain bare. He still has the white coat, covering most of the body suit.
Personality: He’s a quiet, somewhat shy, yet friendly person. Quite intelligent and analytical, he has quite a knowledge for electronics and especially biology. While he’s normally polite and is careful about what he says, in times of great stress, let the curse words fly. He’s someone you could easily get along with, due to his good nature.
Powers: He has a greater ability of regeneration than others, being able to regenerate limbs and such (however, this still wont stop them from hurting like hell).
History: His childhood hasn’t truly been anything out of the ordinary. His father, an architect, was killed when inspecting a construction site, so Jackson was raised by his mother. He developed a keen interest in science, especially biology and studied it when he wasn’t helping his mother with household tasks. While he wasn’t the best at sports, he was skilled in most other subjects, his best obviously being science.

When he left school, he studied biology in university. Having very little of a social life, he excelled in his studies. While he was glad to meet new people, he never made much of an effort to make new friends.

His last clear memory was getting a job as a research scientist at Mendel Laboratories.
Relationships: None at the moment.
Other:

Jackson Pryce
------------------------------------------

His hand rested on the door handle, as his mind went over what he had just heard. A nethermorph? A monster? Was that what he was now? He certainly looked human, although there was something that felt out of place.

He didn’t feel human.

Cautiously, he opened the door. He had no idea what was beyond it, and a part of him just told him to back away from the door. However, the rest of him told him to go on. There was nothing in this room for him except a bed, that was it.

He pushed open the door, and was met with a freezing gust of wind. He pushed himself outside before the wind slam the door shut. He was surprised to see that what he just stepped out of looked like nothing but an old shed from the outside, completely hiding the sterile room inside.

It was dark, evening or possibly very early morning. The cold wind made Jackson shiver, Leather is not the best thing to wear in a cold environment.

He was thankful however to find a white coat caught on one of the tree's jagged limbs. It was torn up slighty, but otherwise in good condition. He was not going to question how the coat had gotten there, or what happened to its previous owner. Carefully pulling it down from the tree, he quickly put it on and did it up. He sighed happily as he felt himself warm up slightly.

The place was overgrown with plant life, the trees, twisted and crooked, casting sinister shadows in the moonlight, moss creeping up the side of the shed and weeds breaking through the gaps in the stone path.

He slowly walked down the path, wrapping his arms around himself to keep himself warm. His feet crunched on the dead weeds as he stepped down the old, broken steps into what appeared to be a cemetery of some kind.

Jackson had figured that this was where they buried scientists and workers here that had died as a result of an accident or other causes.

As small lump formed in his throat.

I maybe they buried something else.

He looked up through the twisted corridors of trees, seeing the towering estate in the distance. He estimated it shouldn’t take longer than ten minutes of walking to reach it, maybe fifteen.

He looked around the cemetery. There was only one memorial that stood out, a statue at the far end of the cemetery. The rest were simple tombstones to indicate who was laying there. Only a few were still standing. Some had been knocked over while others had been crushed into rubble.

Jackson gulped as he slowly turned and started towards the estate. He did not want to wait around here in case HIS grave would be here too.

As he took a few steps, he stopped when one of the tombstones behind him fell over. His heart froze in fear as the thump echoed throughout the cemetery. Part of him wanted to keep going, to not look back. The other part of his mind wanted to see what was behind him.

Slowly, trembling, he turned. He gasped in horror at what he saw.

At first he though it resembled a dog, a Doberman, or, to be more precises, what USED to be a Doberman. Most of its hair had fallen off, revealing brown and green flesh underneath. There was a massive growth on the right side of its body, with a large, sickening yellow eye, staring right at him. Its legs were malformed, its right legs bent and shrunken, possible due to the weight of the growth. It had no tail, though judging by the nub where it used to be, Jackson quickly assumed it fell off.

One eye was missing from its head, only leaving a gaping hole in its skull. The other was the same sickening yellow as the one on its torso. Its jaw was malformed, jutting forward and seemingly had no flesh on it at all, only skin.

Jackson’s face paled even more as the two stared at eachother. Then, Jackson did what any other person in his situation would do.

He screamed, and took of running.

The dog took this as a chance for some easy prey and gave chase. It figured that anything that ran instead of putting up a fight would mean an easy meal. Thankfully for Jackson, its speed was hindered by its malformed legs, but slowly it was catching up to the poor blonde. Jackson did not let up in his mad dash towards the estate, towards, what he figured, safety.

He cried out and fell to the floor as he felt something bite down on his leg. The dog growled as he pulled on his leg. For something will a jaw of only skin and bone, it was pretty strong.

“Let go of me!” Jackson shrieked as he lash out with his other foot, kicking the dog in its massive, bulging eye.

The dog yelped out in pain, releasing his now bleeding leg. Jackson pulled his leg away before kicking the dog a second time, this time catching it in the head. He scrambled away as the dog, clearly deciding that this meal was not worth the trouble, ran off into the woods.

Jackson panted deeply as he sat there holding his bleeding leg. However, he was surprised to find that it wasn’t in any pain at all. Inspecting it further, he realized that the bites marks had completely healed. There was still some dry blood from where it bled, but the wounds themselves were completely gone, like he hadn’t just been bitten by a mutant hound.

Jackson stared in amazement. What had they done to him?

[Blademaster]

'Bout time you got this thing up. Let's get started.



Name: ?????? (Call sign: 'Enigma')
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Former Appearance: Enigma is a Caucasian male of about 6' and 200 pounds. His eyes are ocean-blue, hidden behind a pair of transparent orange shades, and his hair is a slick black color, styled into two Wolverine-like 'wings' near the back of his head. He wears what could loosely be called 'punk' attire: black sneakers, a black muscle shirt with a silhouette of a mudflap girl on the back (It says "I brake for [insert vulgarity here]." underneath. ><'), and torn blue jeans. Around his waist is a chain with a hooked spike attached to one end.
Appearance: He's still a Caucasian male, about 6'3" and 220 pounds. His eyes are still ocean-blue, but his formerly-styled black hair is now spiked around his head in an almost Yu-Gi-Oh!-esque title. He's currently clad in only his white 'experiment' get-up; later on, he 'borrows' a new suit from a corpse: black boots and gloves, green-and-brown camo-pants, and charcoal-grey leather armor. He'll also manage to find his orange shades and his chain in a storage locker somewhere on the island.
Personality: Enigma's personality can be summed up in five words:
Rude (He has no manner of manners, and he doesn't desire to get any anytime soon.)
Crude (Enigma curses - a lot. If you can't stand the curses, get out of his way.)
Lewd (Pretty girls, stay away from this guy if cheap pick-up lines and stalking bother you.)
Lazy (Don't expect him to do anything you ask anytime you ask.)
Violent (Unless you enjoy getting your nose broken, don't even look at him cock-eyed.)
Powers: For reasons unknown, Enigma doesn't require food, water, or air in order to survive - his body generates the nutrients they supply to normal humans instead.
History: Enigma has been a hellion since he was 3, such to the point that he was shipped off to military school at age 8 (Yes, 8.). He suffered from a 'failure to communicate,' according to his instructors, and was left back a total of 5 times before his headmaster finally got so sick of Enigma's volatile behavior, he had Enigma's grades raised so he'd graduate and be forced into the army. After being bounced from platoon to platoon for a few years, he was finally shipped to the remote Blue Island at age 22; he was returned when the war ended just 2 weeks later. His horrified superiors decided, for their own safety, to send Enigma on a 'paid vacation' for a couple of weeks. Enigma gladly accepted, and the rest, as they say, is history...
Relationships: Anyone without a Y chromosome in sight.
Other: He won't tell anybody his name. He may not even remember it himself...

-------------------------------------------

"Now my little monsters, enjoy yourselves."

"FUCK YOU!!"

The young man repeated his obscene catch-phrase for what must have been the twentieth time as his tormentor's voice finally fell silent.

"I don't fucking believe this!!" he screamed in a rage.

SKREEK! KA-THUNK!

The bed was now flipped clean over, the pillow flying off into the corner and the boxspring slamming down crookedly onto the mattress, a few springs snapping and impaling it like knives through tissue paper.

"Nothing in life is EVER fucking easy!"

CRA-SMASH!

The man's fist met with the mirror full-force, sending glass flying everywhere.

"All I want is to take a Goddamn PEACEFUL vacation for fucking once, and I wind up where!? In Frankenstein's fucking castle!!"

SMASH! KA-ZZZZT!

A jagged dagger of mirror glass speared through the blinding ceiling light, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The room went completely dark, save for a few sparks jumping from the light's shredded wiring.

The man finally ended his rant, the lack of light and objects to destroy leaving him speechless for a moment. Red in the face, he turned around and grabbed the door handle, nearly ripping it off as he yanked the door open and stepped outside...

He stopped, a glint on the other side of the door catching his eye. He turned towards it.

It was a faded bronze plaque with some sort of a code enscribed onto it:

PROJECT 3N1-6M4

The unwilling test subject growled and turned back to leave, stepping outside and examining his surroundings.

He was standing on the edge of a dense forest overlooking what appeared to be an old, decrepit cemetery. Broken tombstones coated with moss and weeds, twisting stone paths, ominous shadows cast by the moonlight, some sort of massive statue close to where he stood... None of this fazed the man. He'd been in Iraq, Somalia, Syria... A poorly-maintained cemetery scared him about as much as a newborn kitten.

He turned back to wherever he'd just exited, seeing it to be some sort of small, unimpressive mausoleum.

'Figures.' he thought, frowning. 'Of all the places to-'

FWOOO-wooooooooooooosh...

"AGH!" the young man barked, wrapping his arms around himself. "Son of a BITCH it's cold! Where the fuck am I, Antarctica?!"

It was just then that the man glanced down and realized he was completely naked, save for a white hospital gown with some sort of an emblem he couldn't identify over the heart.

The man grumbled and narrowed his eyes - they could kidnap him, experiment on him like a laboratory rodent, have some lunatic who talked like a rejected James Bond villian taunt him...

But when they messed with his wardrobe...

"Oh, that fucking does it..." he snarled, balling his fists and storming off amidst the tombstones. "I'm gonna kick some serious ass for this!"

-----------------------------------------

Just to be clear, Enigma's on the opposite side of the cemetery as Jackson started out - I dunno if we're all starting in the graveyard or in random places on the island, but either way this should be acceptable.

[Silencer]

[COLOR=DarkOrchid] Name: Project XL or Axel
Age: 25
Gender: M
Former Appearance: A skinny guy that stands around 6'. His hair was short, brown and always in a mess. His eyes were also brown colored. For an attire he wore a plain white shirt and jeans
New Appearance: As one of the earliest succesfull Nethermorph, Axels appearence made a dramatic change. His hair has become pearlwhite and his eyes turned green. But the most shocking part is that next to his eyes, red lines have formed and travel in smooth lines down his neck and inside his new wardrobe. Axel wears a green shirt with a beige pants underneath. His shoes are black and look mostly like the everyday shoe. However they have been fortified to be able to take more blows.
Personality: Axel is a calm person. He isn't agitated easily and always looks at a situation with as much reason as possible. He can always consider the best option and live by it. He stays in the shadows as much as possible and seems to be researching rather then being an experiment.
Powers: Axel can create and manipulate electricity in the palm of his hands. At first, he can only create an electrical field between the tip of his fingers and maintain it for a couple of seconds, but as he gets used to hit the electricity can travel all over his palm for a duration of minutes.
History: Axel was born as an ill child and was abandoned to an orphanage quickly. His disease kept bothering him and the staff couldn't help him out, except for making his temperature drop and ease the pain a bit. After a while, they took Axel to the hospital were he was kept for a long time and never was cured. At this point, the goverment came into action and took Axel in and after years they developed a cure. However, because of the time that elapsed, Axel couldn't return to the normal world and the goverment took him in. They 'manipulated' Axel a bit and from that point on he was a test subject for the goverment in al secrety and was given the name 'Project XL' but he quickly changed it to Axel.
Relationships: Behold the openness.
Other: As a child of the goverment, his goal is unknown.

-------------------
Axel
-------------------

The unknown voice still boomed in Axels head. He had lain down for the entire speech.

Nethermorphs? Changes? Capabilities? What was this guy talking about.

Axel stretched his limbs and looked around the room. Nothing there except for a bed and a mirror. As he looked down to examine himself, Axel noted that his clothes were different then what he remembered wearing. He walked up to the mirror and immediately stepped back in shock as he saw what faced him.

His hair and eyes had made a drastic change. But his face, red lines were running over it wildly and slipped into his collar. With this Axel lifted his shirt and found out that the lines moved all over his upper-body and came to a halt just over his shoulders.

He tried to remember what just happened to him but when he tried, Axels head seemed to split right open. He cursed himself for his incompetence.

He took a final look and decided it would be best to leave. Axel opened the door and was met with darkness. His eyes hurt for a moment as they needed to adjust.

Axel couldn’t see far but he could distinct trees and foliage. The forest he just walked into was thick and seemed impenetrable. He took a step outside and closed the door. He turned around and took in his former residence. It was a simple box shape and made out of simple metal. Axel was right, it would probably be the safest place if something happened.

Axel cautiously took some steps forward, investigating the area closely. Just then, machinery started to work. He turned to were the sound was coming from and saw his cottage sinking fast. It came to a halt as its roof leveled with the ground, making it impossible to enter it again.

This time Axel cursed his luck. It did have one positive side. The noise would probably have scared of the animals in the area, allowing the youth to set up traps to catch his dinner.

Sadly Axel made a miscalculation. Although the noise did scare of animals, it attracted something much worse.

HISSSSSSSSS!

Axels ears perked up. That sound was close.

HISSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

And coming closer.

Right in front of Axel appeared a man like he had never seen before. If it could even be considered a man.

The thing had a hunched back and its arms were dragging over the surface. Its skin was green and his eyes were black. The creature was bold and seemed to have a swollen right eye. Because it was hunched it was slightly smaller then Axel, but it rose up and let out a roar as soon as it spotted its pray. Like this, he was well over a foot taller.

Fear spread over the most human looking man and he made a run for it. The creature gave chase and as it was running, its legs seemed to grow larger for each step he made.

Axel would not be able to outrun this thing, but then a slight sparkle caught his eye. In the moss lay a small gun. Axel only noted it because some moonlight happened to shine right on it.

The newcomer made a hard turn right and sped towards the gun. The chaser didn’t seem to have any difficulty adjusting to the change of path. Axel picked up the gun, it was lighter then it would seem, which gave him a bad feeling.

He unloaded the magazine and spotted one single bullet

Got to make this count. Axel thought to himself.

Axel made a jump and turned in midair. He aimed carefully, which wasn’t that hard since the creature just followed in a straight path, and shot his only hope.

The bullet hit the created in the head as it bended backwards. But as soon as it seemed the creature was defeated, the head rose once again with the bullet still stuck in its forehead. The creature slowly reached for the metal object and pulled it out. The skin were it has hit was undamaged and just popped back up like rubber. The thing looked back at were Axel stood, but the man was gone. He took the opportunity to make a dash as the creature was distracted.

Panting heavily, Axel crouched down behind a tree and recovered his strength

“What kind of freak show is this?”

[Cxjenious]

You're in need of female character's, I presume?

Name: Cassandra Palmer
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Former Appearance: Cass always considered herself a moderately "normal" girl. She stood at about 5'7", give or take a few centimeters, with an okay build; not a gym rat, but not a slob either. She had shoulder length honey blond hair, with piercing green eyes, and a stunning tan, courtesy of stifling summers in Baton Rouge. She wore a pair of worn dark blue denims, complete with a Texas sized belt buckle and dark leather boots, of the steel toe variety. Her shirt was white and shortsleeved (nothing spectacular).
New Appearance: She's much leaner, chiseled even, and her tan has gotten deeper. If she had to guess, she'd say she lost about fifteen pounds. She's grown too, maybe two or three inches, and her face is much sharper, almost alien in its countenance. Her hair, once honey blonde, is now nearly white.
Personality: She is naturally a congenial woman with a bit of a temper, but recent events have dimmed her congeniality and she has become more cynical in nature. That, and she's stubborn as hell.
Powers: Her senses have been enhanced. She can smell and hear like a dog, and has little to no problem seeing in complete darkness.
History: Cassandra was born an raised in Bon Temps, but moved to live with her grandparents in Baton Rouge after a violent incident occured at her high school. Bright but unambitious, she was working as a bartender in New Orleans before her grandmother suggested she take time off to 'travel the world'. Since her grandmother was paying, she took her up on the offer. Guess she should've stayed home.
Relationships: Not unless someone wants one.
Other: She has phsycotic tendencies, meaning that blood and death does not disturb her in the slightest, and she can drink blood, if neccessary. (She's not a vampire, but her body can break down the nutrients in blood the same way any wild predatory animal can.

So, can I join?

[Mew Master]

Name: Theodore Alan Kíash
Age: 22
Former Appearance: Tall white Male, 6'4" and largely built. Long legs and long hair that falls down to mid-back. He has green eyes and semi-shaggy bangs, doesn't wear glasses and usually has his hair a tangled mess. He's not tone, but his build hides that fact. Wears a t-shirt with some cargo-shorts held to his hips with a belt and very worn sneakers.
New Appearance: His eyes are now golden colored and have a vertical slit, making them appear reptilian. Theo's canine's are slightly elongated and his ears have a point at the tip to them.
Personality: Usually sarcastic, this sudden realization has left him moody, almost emo-like. The memory running through his mind haunting him. He'll be the first to be willing to sacrafice himself to save others.
Powers: Fast Regeneration, and minor control of flames.
History: A Beach. Well, that's what it looks like. Something flies above in the sky, with a small chirp. As he looks along the beach someone is sitting next to him. It's femanine, with long black hair. The memory fades as she looks at him and almost... smiles? As it fades, there's a faint laugh.
Relationships: Open... go figure.
Other: Finds a sword scattered along the island, more about that in first post.

*sits and waits for approval*

[Shadow Djinn]

Name: Cyrus Romfell
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Former Appearance: Cyrus stands at 6'2 with a lean build. All though he is a physical type of man, his complexion is essentially very pale. His hair is a dusty brown, unkempt and scruffy, with a small cut below his lip, and his eyes a dull brown to match his locks. He wears a plain white shirt with a rough, aged belt looped lopsided around his waist, with his jeans sagging slightly. A blue rubber wristband is on his right arm. His lean frame allows him to use his muscular legs to his advantage.
New Appearance: In his new form he has grown two more inches, now a solid 6'4. His skin has darkened considerably and his hair color has changed shockingly to a murky green, though remaining messy and wild. His eyes are also a bright emerald. His face is now unblemished, with a bit more muscle added to his body. He now wears a coat that goes down to his waist, a dark blue, maintaining his plain white shirt. His pants are rather like dress pants, all though slightly more comfortable, the exact same shade as his coat. The wrist band he used to wear is now a dark black fingerless glove on both hands, and he now wears a pair of streamlined white running shoes.
Personality: While Cyrus is now 22, he acts very lighthearted and witty, constantly teasing and jokingly insulting the people around him. He has a small fear of showing others any possible weaknesses he has and often uses a way to get out of it. As a witty person overall he is a fast talker with a very persuasive style. However, when he is serious he shows it very clearly, gaining a new sense of determination and maturity you usually wouldn't see. He has a big ego and shows it clearly, all though he is joking half the time. Cyrus is also odd in the sense that he is quick to grasp situations that to others may seem very odd or horrific. Because of this he is generally accepting of both his and other people's abnormalities, though that won't stop him from making fun of people for them. In terms of ethics he has very low ones, with very terrible work habits and self control. Because of this he is pretty much a very lazy person, only working hard in the things he enjoys.
Powers: Cyrus' ability is energy creation and manipulation, in a sense, a higher level of telekinesis. Requiring immense concentration, Cyrus can create emerald particles from his palms that burns everything, including him, which is where his gloves come in handy. For some odd reason they shield him from the backlash of the energy. Cyrus can also issue 'commands' to the energy, such as make a ball, or hit the object, expand, etc. However, Cyrus has a mediocre attention span and losing concentration in the middle of attempting to manipulate said energy can create disastrous results.
History: Raised by foster parents who were insane athletes, Cyrus was already in intense physical training by the time he was five. Despite his constant recreational activities he never seemed to be able to darken his skin, which was considered odd by his friends, though never considered deeply. Joining the basketball team when he entered high school, Cyrus was an all star athlete but was forced to stop playing on the team when he failed three classes. Constantly falling asleep in class and causing trouble with his friends, Cyrus was eventually expelled from the high school, angering his parents greatly, who had a high appreciation for justice and morals. He was shipped off to a boarding school in Germany where he didn't turn out much better, as he was extremely miserable there. Eventually he ran away from the school and used the meager funds he had left to purchase a flight back to California, where he had previously lived. However, instead of going back home, Cyrus decided that it wouldn't help him. The last thing he remembers is getting on a bus to Los Angeles, planning to use his athletic ability to make money.
Relationships: As a sports jock Cyrus has had several girlfriends, having a very close relationship with his last before he was sent to Germany. While he was planning on contacting her when he returned, it never happened, as he disappeared after boarding the bus.
Other: Cyrus is somewhat of a health freak and refuses to drink soda, or even come close to touching it.

Cyrus Romfell - Energy Manipulation
-

Am I alive?

A small room, barren of the usual necessities, harbored a tall, gaunt boy, tossing and turning on a bare, makeshift cot, his emerald locks in disarray as he spasmed again, his face lined with sweat, his face contorted in pain.

Where...am I?

His jade pupils opened, his bony hands wiping away the beads of perspiration, rising from the cot, alarmed.

What the hell? What is this place?

He glanced about the barren chamber in surprise, his hands grasping the blue coat he now wore, slightly trailing below his waist.

When did I get this?

He grasped at the white shirt beneath it, slightly sticky from the sweat he had amounted, brushing away a lock that fell to his eye.

Green? Green hair?

He closed his eyes, he attempted to recall. He thrust himself into the deepest recesses of his mind, seeking memories...seeking recollection. And suddenly he was met with a sharp twinge of pain, sending him plummeting to the cold floor, his face contorted in pain as he resisted the urge to cry out...

The brief, fleeting image of a raven-haired girl flitted through his mind's eye, and he spasmed, grasping for more...

Only to be met with nothing, the pain subsiding along with the flashes of white through his vision, allowing him to rise with a feeble rasp, his recovering sight scavenging the chamber for a door.

Where the hell is the door?

He surveyed the room a second, then a third, just to confirm, a surge of panic rushing into his system.

There's no way out.

He threw his frame against the wall in desperation, pounding the barrier with indiscriminate blows, frustration and fear overtaking the usual calm youth. As he reeled his arm back for another blow, a jade sphere suddenly burst from his palms, perfectly uncovered, a tingling, burning sensation rushing through him as the emerald force tinged his skin. The sphere connected with the wall, instantly combusting and sending the youth flying backwards and slamming into the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his hand.

A brief moment passed, and he rose to his feet, glancing at the wall in awe; the entire foundation had simply crumbled, and beyond the rubble was...

Outside? A room, with no fucking door, outside.He stifled the torrent of emotions that pummeled his mind, tearing through the crumbled wall, stepping into a realm in which happiness seemed to have forsaken.

Jagged trees, devoid of life, permeated a dirt-filled landscape, several tombstones protruding outward in the distance, a cold air tinging the somber landscape.

Only then was he overcome by a staggering fact: who was he?

Suddenly information flooded into him.

Cyrus Romfell, that's it. And...

His brow furrowed, his face tightened in concentration, only to recall nothing more.

Still clutching his singed hand, Cyrus hesitantly stepped forward, his coat shielding him from the chilly breeze, his long footsteps carrying him down the path to the graveyard.

As a cold gale swept along the forsaken earth, Cyrus raised his eyes to the night sky, his body ridden with pain, his mind overcome by questions and worry.

He continued down his charted path, fatigue trickling through his systems -- evidently from the strange projectile he had managed to conjure -- panting with every step.

"Whatever this place is..." Cyrus Romfell muttered to himself, the night air swirling around him.

"I am not who I once was."

-

Note: At the moment Cyrus is very far from his usual personality, and I am aware of that. While he is generally accepting, this situation is very odd, and thus he is really weirded out. In the next few posts he will slowly regain his stated personality.

Just saying, in case anyone seems to notice he doesn't seem like what I described.

[Unsolved Puzzle]

Name: Noah Scorch
Age: 17
Former Appearance: tan Male, 5'8" and musculer. Long hair that is braided into Corn Rows flows down his neck. He has blue eyes , . Wears a t-shirt with some camo-shorts that sagged a it.

New Appearance: The same as before other then his skin is now pale, and his hair is shaved.

Personality:Cool, and in charge. Never liked people superior to him. The most ladys loved him. His change has him in a state of shock. He is now veary shy.

Relashonships: does what hey needs to to survive, alies with the highest bidder

Powers: He has the power to enter others dreams, and play with them. Molding them into the perfect dream, or a nightmare.

History: The only thing he remembers is never having a mother or father. He remembers growing up on the streets. He dosnt know how he ended up that way or how he got on this island


u told me to preticpate in an RPG before atempting to start one so here i go

*goes to Xbox awith a back of root bear*

ill find a way to keep ocupied till aproval

[Mystic_clown]

Jackson Pryce
--------------------------------------------------

Jackson’s eyes darted all over the place as he slowly walked towards the estate. He didn’t wanted be ambushed by that, that ‘thing’ again, or by something worse for that matter.

Thankfully, it didn’t look like it would be long before the blonde was inside, warm, and, hopefully, safe.

Of course, a small part of his brain was saying he was a little over optimistic in that sense.

He looked over the large estate as he came closer, quietly searching for an entrance of some kind. He couldn’t see the front, so he was hoping to find a back door or something.

He noticed the stone and wall that surrounded the estate, Numerous weeds and moss were growing up it, pushing through cracks in the stone.

He traveled along the wall for a few minutes before finding a way in. An iron grate which had looked like something had torn it off of its hinges. Various cracks and breaks in the wall suggest that something had tried to get through the wall numerous times before finally breaking the gate down.

Stepping over the mangled piece of metal that was once a gate, Jackson walked through the entrance onto the grounds.

The grounds weren’t much better than the outside. While it didn’t have as much plant life as the surrounding area, it was still overgrown and still had the same sense of neglect and ruin. The grass was overgrown in some areas, and completely bare the others. Some of the shrubs were barely clinging to life while others had died and only left their branchy skeletons. There even seemed to be some types of plants that even Jackson didn’t recognize. However, something told the biologist to stay well away.

There were a few trees on the grounds, and while they looked perfectly alright, cast their sinister shadows in the rare light, adding to the sense of foreboding.

Taking soft, cautious steps, Jackson looked around, checking to see if there was anything alive in the area, while at the same time looking for an entrance inside the large building.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed throughout the area. It wasn’t so much loud as it was the only sound in the otherwise silent area. Jackson’s head jerked down to the branch he had stepped on.

However, he wasn’t the only one whose attention was caught by the sound. With a flurry of feathers and leaves, a flock of black birds emerged from their invisible positions among the trees and dove at the helpless man. He couldn’t tell whether they were ravens or crows, and at this point didn’t care. He noticed that their eyes were an unnatural red.

Jackson swung his arms around, trying to shield himself and fight off the ruthless flock as they scratched and jabbed at him, making him bleed.

Quickly finding he wasn’t going to fight them off, he broke into a run, the flock following close behind. Out of the corner of his eye, Jackson could see what appeared to be an entrance to a basement of some kind. If he wasn’t currently being attacked, he would be smiling. A way inside and protection from this killer flock.

Shielding himself with his arms, the blonde broke into a run, quickly making it to the entrance and threw the wooden doors widen open. He flailed his arms to keep the birds back as he slowly backed down the steps into the basement.

Quickly, he grabbed the doors and pulled them close, catching one of the birds’ heads in the process. There was a sickening crack as its small neck was broken by the impact. Jackson gave it a sharp kick, pushing it through the small gap in the door before closing it tightly.

He fell to his knees, exhausted as he heard them clawing at the door outside, screeching in anger for loosing their target. He shuddered slightly as he felt his wounds healing, every cut and scratch closing up. It disturbed him slightly to feel it, knowing it should take a few days for injuries like that to heal, not a few seconds.

As he sat on the steps to catch his breath and calm himself, he looked around the room. It appeared to be an old wine cellar of some kind. It was dark, slightly dank, but mainly dusty. He wondered if some of the lights were in working order, as he noticed some were broken, but others looked perfectly fine.

“Well,” Jackson sighed wearily, “At least there doesn’t seem to be anything down here.”

His head fell into his hands as he tried to think of a way to deal with the situation.

[Cxjenious]

Ixnay on the super human strength and speed.

::Cassandra Palmer::


Cassandra gazed at the mirror before her, transfixed by the sight of her face. She knew she wasn't suppose to look like this, but suspiciously, she couldn't remember how she looked before. As a matter of fact, she couldn't remember anythng from before.

Before what?

It was only then that Cassandra stopped to consider the voice she had heard, stopped to consider the fact that she was in a place foreign and familiar all at the same time, and realized that something terrible, something undeniably unholy had happened to her.

But what?

What was this place? What had been done to her? And more importantly, atleast to her, why had she been chosen?

As she contemplated, she felt her initial shock and despair turn rapidly into anger. How dare they?! Nethermorph?! What the fuck was a Nethermorph?! She lashed out, punching the mirror. Her fist not only shattered the glass, but continued forward, smashing into the white concrete wall. Cassandra drew her arm back in shock, knowing that she should've broken a bone, or at least split the skin. All she felt was an intense throbbing pain in her hand.

"What am I?" she whispered, now aware of the intense silence of... wherever she was.

She turned towards the door, a deep sense of foreboding settling in the pit of her stomach. The voice had said there were thers like her, failures... Could they stick their fist through solid concrete? She sincerely hoped not, but something... feral in her recognized and anticipated the challenge.

She hesitantly stepped towards the door, and somehow, through the clouded haze in her brain, realized that she had no shoes. That discovery led her to the investigation of the rest of her clothing. Her shirt had once been white, and she was sure it had once had sleeves, but now it was littered with little red specks, and of course, sleeveless. Her jeans had been ripped just above her knee. They too, were marred by red specks, which she corectly assumed was blood. But whose blood? Surely not her own, for her skin was perfect. Too perfect, in fact. She rubbed her leg...

And was assaulted with a rush of feeling... bones twisting, growing, reforming... needles, knives, pain.

She gasped, now fully cognizant of the predicament she was in. This place was hell, and she had been condemned.

'Oh well,' she thought, reaching for the door. 'I'm a success, so that means I'll have some advantage over these failures.' Her innate human sense of self preservation had kicked in. 'Maybe it'll be... fun.'

'Or maybe, I've just gone off the deep end? I feel like an animal!'

She opened the door, stepping out into what could only be called a 'corridor', for it was far too big and opressing to be called a 'hall'. The corridor was naturally dark, though she couldn't tell, for she could see just fine. There were no lights, but every dozen yards or so there were torches on alternating sides of the wall. The walls themselves were covered in grime, and smelled strongly of mildew. The ceiling was high and vaulted, with old iron chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. She called out.

"Hello?" she said, hearing her voice echo. "If there's anyone hiding behind corners and whatnot, I'd suggest you come out now. I can punch through concrete. I can kick a man hard enough to cease all reproductive action!" That was of course untrue, but she figured whoever or whatever was out there didn't know what she was capapble of. She didn't know what she was capable of. "I'm warning you now," she continued, her voice becoming sharp with anger. "'Cause if you jump out at me, I won't hesitate to act. You got that?!" she snarled. There was no answer. She sighed, running her fingers through her flowing, white hair, noting that the pain in her hand was gone.

"Get a grip Cass!" she chided herself. She could feel her humanity slipping away. She felt wild, predatory even, and did not notice her fingers and toes lengthening into claws as she walked.

She could see, maybe a hundred feet ahead of her, a set of stairs that undeniably led down. And just to the right of those stair was a door. Nothing had bothered her, no bats, ghosts, goblins nor ghouls, and she had yet to hear anything to suggest she had anything to worry about. That was, until she got to the door before the stairs. She could hear something shuffling around inside...

[Outlaw JT]

Just to note, this has already been approved via PM.

Name: Kaleb Johnston
Age: 6
Gender: male
Former Appearance: If you looked up the definition of scrawny in the dictionary there would be a picture of Kaleb next to it. He is paper thin almost to the point of looking emaciated. He has short greasy dark blond hair and subtle yet sharp blue eyes. Typically he wears a short sleeve button up shirt with a sweater vest his mother knitted for him. He is extremely pale.
New Appearance: He is still paper thin but appears more lean than emaciated now. His skin is a sickly pale green and if you look very, very closely it is now scaled (you'd have to be right next to him and squinting to notice). His fingers are bony and crooked and his nails protrude a bit like claws. He's wearing what looks like a black straight jacket with holes cut in the sleeves so his arms can be free. He's also wearing simple black sweatpants. He's barefoot and his teeth are now all triangular and pointed to a sharp tip.
Personality: He seems to be shy and reserved. Kaleb comes off as being very timid and fearful. He can't seem to do hardly anything for himself.
Powers: He is able to cling to surfaces and climb on walls/ceilings/etc like a lizard. Although no one knows, he can also blend into his surroundings and become practically invisible like a chameleon.
History: Kaleb led a fairly normal life up until recently. His father was a geeky scientist and his mother was a dutiful housewife. He was a little bit of a weird kid but nothing too out of the ordinary. At worst he seemed to like drawing strange creatures and monsters. His parents weren't too concerned by it until he turned 6. His teachers began to get concerned by Kaleb's drawings. They had no sooner enrolled him in therapy with his father's company therapist, however, when he was made to endure a horrible tragedy. Both of his parents were brutally slain in what looked like a home invasion. Kaleb was sent to live with his uncle who also worked at the company his dad did. His last memory was the welcome dinner his uncle made for him.
Relationships:
Other: Kaleb likes grilled cheese.

Kaleb
~~~~~

Everywhere here was oh so very cold. He should be freezing but someone the cold felt good against his little form. The cold seemed to seep into his skin and crawl through his body like a predator and yet it somehow made him feel safer. A reassurance of unprecedented quality as nothing in this twisted place spoke of safety.

Kaleb had not been free of the pretty white room long but already he had seen and heard much. All of it was quite beyond his understanding but he felt as if he had been sucked into one of his own drawings. One of the ones mommy and daddy had talked to him about. Of course, they couldn't talk to him about it now.

The room Kaleb was in was very musty. There was an old mahogany desk near one wall and book shelves on either side of it. There was a couch and two chairs in either corner opposite the desk and a door off to the far side from him. In the center of the room, lying on the floor, were the half eaten remains of some poor unfortunate soul. It looked like it had been a man whose joints bent both ways but it was hard to make much out. Something had clearly made a meal of it and recently. Kaleb was still shaking from the discovery of just how unsafe everything in this place was.

Kaleb had only been in this place for a few minutes when that 'man' had found him. The man had taken pity on the poor child and tried to protect Kaleb. A deed that led to his gruesome demise as they fled from an unseemly resident that looked like the bastard child of a snake and a monkey. The beast didn't discover Kaleb in this room, though. It only found a surprised corpse to snack upon.

So, Kaleb remained quiet and hidden in the room with the desk covered in dust and cobweb. He balled himself up behind the chair in the corner, rocking himself gently, waiting for someone else to come protect him. Maybe uncle would come get him?! As he waited he sang eerily into the silence with his tiny fearful voice.

"Hush little Kaleb don't say a word, momma gonna buy me a mockingbird....."

ooc: Anyone in/near the estate should feel free to find poor Kaleb.

[Crystal Tears]

Name: Adria 'Khala' Mal
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Former Appearance: Tan skin, deep brown eyes, long black hair that has a wave to it. Usually up in a ponytail. Her body is agile and fit, built that way from constant running and the occasional tussle. She's quite the attractive woman, and is usually wearing cargo pants (either grey or black), with a black t-shirt.
New Appearance: Other then the white clothing, not much has changed about Adria. Her eyes are now a bright, capturing blue that occasionally glow a bright blue at her command, or when she rapidly changes mood. Past that she is identical. One she finds the better clothing however, she's wearing loose, black leather pants with a darker belt hanging around her hips with a silver circle buckle. The pants themselves appear loose but will never fall any lower. For a top she wears a black vest that isn't done up much, which just adds to her charm. For shoes, or rather boots, she has knee-high boots with steel toes and silver laces.
Personality: We could say she suffers from a personality disorder. Adria is a nice person, loving, caring and charming girl who knows how work everything to her advantage, yet will never break someone's trust. Everything about her cries out that she a loyal, devoted friend, and usually that would never change. However, once Adria's eyes glow blue, she cold, calculating and though she's still trustworthy, she lacks the loving charm she had before and instead has a charismatic, leadership draw to her. In either state, people can say Adria knows things she shouldn't.
Powers: Unlike most subjects, Adria cannot transform. She is permanently in a state that's between being human and being an energy source. The only word that comes to her mind when people ask what is it is 'Khala' which is more of a name for herself then an actual state of being. She subconsciously uses 100% of brain, and can easily access each specific part for a power. Her most common powers are Telekinesis and Telepathy (which she now uses because its easier for her then talking). Another, more devastating power is to turn people, creatures and objects into a blue energy that is drawn to her body. Making her more powerful. Her other powers vary, though many think her Telepathy goes farther then speaking, people suspect she can dive into a person's mind.
History: Unknown, Adria doesn't remember a thing, though she occasionally gets images and flashes of memories, she's unsure if it's hers or another's.
Relationships: meh...
Other: Rawr~

Adria

She awoke suddenly. Her head throbbing with a pain she had never felt before. She had heard what the voice whispered into this room. Absorbing it until her mind had picked it apart and thrown it away for the garbage it was. Air rushed into her lungs as she gasped, it was such a sweet sensation that she gasped several more times before finally calming down. Though watery and pained, she allowed her eyelids to open and let her agonized eyes take in the sterile surroundings. The colours seemed new to her, the white, so much white. This place was like an open canvas, ready for painting. Ignoring her own heavy breathing she looked down at her trembling hands with curiosity, why were they shaking? Her clothes, they were as white as this room. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and from what her mind told her, this was acceptable.

‘Kill, Death, Kill, Kill, Kill, Death, Pain, Kill… Killl…’

That… Her head throbbed as she spoke. She attempted to stand, but her world shifted, and spun around her. Desperately she reached out and put a steadying hand on the wall as her head began to clear. Is not my thought…

There were other thoughts echoing in her head, bouncing off the sides of her mind, creating more and more chaos before she finally focused on her own thoughts. Even as she focused, random images flashed before her eyes. When they faded into the back her mind, she sighed, remembering what little she could.

Adria… She spoke, recalling her own name. Though something was amiss. What the… She touched her lips and then spoke. Why does it… My lips, my tongue, my mouth… They’re not moving…

Adria didn’t know what was going on, but no doubt this wasn’t normal. She weakly stepped towards the room’s door, and extremely cautiously, stepped out. Her head continued to pound as her eyes adjusted from pure white to a darker setting. Her surroundings were particularly creepy, with the whole graveyard and old grey trees and the like. Not to mention the thoughts in her mind that ranged from ‘death, kill, and torture, to hunt, eat, survive’. Her own voice sounded clear and perfect, like it would talking, yet her mouth didn’t move, in fact, as Adria tried to talk through her mouth, she found it difficult.

'I wake up in a strange room and I obtain telepathy…' She thought, looking at her new clothes, which were just plain white. 'And a dull new wardrobe, oh yeah… This place is going to be-'

‘Food. Food. Food.’

Adria turned to her left. A creature she had never seen before was sitting on one of the larger tombstones. It looked like someone had decided to combine a cat with a monkey. It was hopping on the head of what used to be a concrete angel until her face broke off, with a long tail that had curled around the left wing. Its feet had razor sharp claws that were easily cutting into the stone, and its ears were massive and looked like a bats, while its eyes were… Sewn shut. Its fur was almost completely gone, exposing the bright red muscle underneath.

What the… Hell…

‘Food! Food! Hunt! Food!’

Adria slowly picked up a tree branch that had been lying next to her foot. The creature hadn’t moved though it was bouncing more and more now. Anxious to see what Adria would do in this situation, presuming she would run, no doubt. The telepath brought the branch up, and as fast as she could she swung.

The creature, whatever is may have been, let out a cry and was thrown off the tombstone. Adria closed her eyes for a moment, before her mind picked up a small ‘ping’. Her eyes shot open and she looked over to where the creature had landed. It had recovered, half of its head smashed it and its ear ripped to shreds. Adria gulped, that hit would’ve killed any normal creature, but then again. This two foot tall monster was anything but normal. It ran towards her, hissing.

Taking a step back, Adria performed what looked like a golf swing with the branch right into chin and neck of the monster. It flew almost straight up, hitting some branches of the nearby tree before falling to the ground.

This time, there was no ‘ping’ in Adria’s mind. The creature lay on the ground, beaten.

However, the thought of food and hunting was more abundant now. Adria turned slowly, and mentally cursed at herself. Now there was a pack of these things, all staring at her.

Greaat…

Adria never ran so fast in her life. The things chasing her reminded her of something called a gremlin, only over grown and far more vicious. But she couldn’t exactly remember what a Gremlin looked like; only that perhaps these creatures and a gremlin were similar. She bounded over a tombstone and some how managed to do an equally high jump over a fence. The telepath glanced over her shoulder to see that they were right on her heels, until finally one pounced on her back.

The claws hurt like hell! And a strangled scream actually escaped from Adria’s mouth before she hit the ground. The headache which had been making her irritable exploded, causing her to wince as she turned over, literally ripping the Gremlin from her back. She kicked it in the head, making it back away as its friends loom closer.

Not that Adria could see, but her eyes were glowing.

GO. A. WAY!!! She screamed into their minds, making them wither and back away from her. NOW!!!

They ran, disappearing into the darkness.

Adria groaned, her head screaming in protest, though it had died down a lot. She laid there on the ground, quite content with the idea of dying, but not by the claws of super-sized gremlins.

Italics: Telepathy.
Bold: Very blatantly broadcasted thoughts (yes she can pick up thoughts)

Please note, she can easily seperate thoughts from what she 'broadcasts' into other minds, just like how we have the option to keep our mouths shut when we think. So no hearing her thoughts.

[Blademaster]

Enigma

-------------------------------------------

The volatile figure looked up at the huge mansion before him, a grimace plastered on his face.

'I swear to God, if some Australian fuck pops out of nowhere and says he has something that might interest me, I'm gonna fucking explode.' he thought dourly as he walked through the shattered gate. It looked almost like something had knocked it over - or torn right through it...

Sighing, the figure stomped through the gate, catching site of something protruding from the grass and weeds to his left. Curious, he walked over and examined the object...

It was a dead body - a male soldier of some kind, clad in black boots and gloves, green-and-brown camo-pants, and charcoal-grey leather armor. His neck was bent a good 80 degrees sideways - the obvious cause of death.

The nameless protagonist looked down at the corpse solemnly for a minute, then at his own hospital gown, then at the corpse...

-------------------------------------

A few minutes later, the violent lab subject, now clad in the attire of the corpse he'd stumbled upon, made his way back up the trail towards the mansion, several monstrous cries reaching his ears.

Something was wrong here... Very wrong, and under all his layers of bluster and rage, the man knew it.

"My life is a living Hell!" the man growled...

Wait... that growl... That didn't come from him...

"......I'm about to turn around." the man warned in a loud, anunciated voice. "And if I see something there that I don't like, I'm going to beat the ever-living shit out of it."

No respose - just that same, low growling...

"OK," he said, turning around angrily, "you were warned, assho-..."

He stopped mid-obscenity, a mixture of disgust and terror gripping the former soldier.

Standing in front of him was an unearthly creature about six feet in length. It had a skinny, bony body like that of a malnourished fox or a wolf, but longer and lankier. Sprouting from the left side of its body were what started as a pair of typical canine legs, but they quickly began to broaden, blacken, and lose fur once they hit the knee, quickly splitting into two more spindly, segmented legs that bent in at least 4 areas, before finally ending with a razor-sharp claw. Sprouting from the right side of its body were two thick, sturdy legs like those of a bull, but much shorter and fatter. A third leg sprouted from the beast's rear hip, bending backwards at a useless angle and dragging behind the monstrosity like a tail. Where its tail in fact should have been was a shiny, bulbous abdomen that seemed to match its four spider legs perfectly.

But most disturbing was the creature's head - it looked like it may once have had a canine head, but its left side was so swollen, it was impossible to tell. Punctuating the putrid growth were three glossy eyes, while a fourth, more canine one was embedded in the hollow socket on the other side of its head. The beast's snout was lined with razor-sharp teeth, and on either side of those were a pair of spidery mandibles as long as soda bottles, each one tipped with a 7-inch fang that oozed black poison. A pair of forward-facing horns like a bull's in place of any apparent ears completed the hideous creature, who glared and drooled at the human hungrily.

"Uh.....," the man stuttered, taking a step back, "I don't know what the fuck you are, or what combination of farm animals someone screwed to make you, but I'm just gonna kind of- SHIT!!!"

The man jumped back as the monster lumbered towards him, swinging a horn like a sword at him. It missed him by centimeters, before snarling and scuffing a mammalian leg on the grass like a bull.

The man narrowed his eyes.

"OK, fuckmonster, you want a piece of me?" he challenged. "Two-hundred pounds of fresh, red meat? Well, then, come and get some!"

The beast snorted, apparently understanding its potential meal, then howled and charged at him...

The man smiled to himself, ducking and rolling sideways at the last minute; the slow-witted beast tried to turn to fast, smashing its horns into a tree.

"Dumb shit." the man chuckled, walking around beside the creature as it attempted to yank its horns free. "Nothing in life is that easy..."

The man balled one of his hands into a fist.

"Now, nothing personal, but I don't wanna see your ugly-ass face ever again, so I'm just gonna kill you now."

He raised his fist over the back of the struggling creature's neck, and then, with a "HYA!!!", he brought it down.

CRUNCH!

The beasts legs collapsed from under it, its body instantly going limp and silent as its had-been prey hammer-handed its neck, snapping it like a board.

The man glared down at the creature's body, pulling his fist away, but then he stopped; his eyes widened in shock as he looked down at his fist.

Halfway down his forearm, his skin had changed from its typical flesh-pink to a metallic silver, and where his fist should have been there was instead a smooth, steel cylinder... His forearm had somehow transformed into a sledgehammer.

"What... the... fucking... Hell...?" was all that the man could mutter, looking over his arm in shock. After a few seconds, the shock wore off, and his arm regained its normal color and shape...

Stunned silent, the man turned and walked away from the beast's carcass, a single thought repeating over and over in his mind as he entered the abandoned mansion...

'Where the fuck am I...?'

[Samchu]

Name: Matthew "Matt" Henderson
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Former Appearance: Matt stood 5'7" tall with short, jet black hair and blue eyes. His skin was a dark pink colour and he had a relatively nimble frame compared to most men of his age. Matt would be considered as a man built for speed and agility than anything else.
New Appearance: Matt's changed a lot from when he was human. His height has increased from 5'7 to a more staggering 6'2 and his hair has grown to his shoulders. His hair is also a lot thicker than it used to be (more mane-like you could argue) and instead of a jet black it is now a fiery red. Even his eyes have changed to a deep red. His overall physique has altered as well. His build is exceptionally more muscular than it used to be and his skin is tanned.
Personality: Matt comes across as a jerk but he's more complicated than that. He seems arrongant but he just really hates being told what to do and wants to make the most of finally being able to make his own choices. He follows his own path his own way and he'll tell anyone who says he can't to go to hell. Despite all this, he does have a heart. He will help someone if they need it but he's not about to pour his soul out to the first person he sees.
Powers: Matt's super-strong. He can put his fist through a steel wall if he really wants to.
Transformation: (because I'm too lazy to write it) http://motagirl.blogia.com/upload/20...-ifrit-ff8.jpg
History: Matt used to be a successful athlete. He was a sprinter and had a lot of competitive success when he was young. But it wasn't his decision. His parents had taken his interest in running and had corrupted it for their own gain. He trained harder than anyone he knew; he never had any time to hang out with friends and suffered a lot at school because he was never given any time to study or do homework. Sure he won a lot of competitions but he never got to enjoy any of the rewards. All the financial benefit went to his parents who squandered it on their own luxuries and the trophies and medals were sold so they could be melted down and re-used. When he was 17 his mom died. He doesn't remember what happened after that.
Relationships: None, nada, nope.
Other: *glares at other*

Matt
~~~~

"A Nethermorph huh?" Matt chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he let the words sink in. The room he'd been placed it in seemed unusually warm; sweat dribbled down his face. When he reached up to wipe it from his eyes he realised at once that changes that had been made to him. His hand was no longer the dark yet naturalistic pink to which he was accustomed but was instead a tanned shade of brown. The general feel of his arm had changed as well. His fingers were bulkier than he remembered; large, callused palms sat in place of his old, feeble ones, stretching out to wrist so wide that even his newly-lengethened fingers failed to wrap around it. From there his arm continumed its expanse, revealling well-defined muscles in both his triceps and biceps. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Matt noticed that the same transformation had been carried out of his legs as well. Even his chest had a firm and rigid feel to it.

Grinning with satisfaction Matt rose to his feet and inspected his surroundings. Grey, empty walls stared back at him. The unknown man's words recoilled inside his mind and he turned to face the promising door at his right. enjoy yourselves... He wasn't going to do that stuck in here. Matt stepped towards the door but the moment his skin touched the handle, he froze. Should he be doing this? Should he just blindly obey the words of some mysterious voice? He was different - yes, that much was true - but for all he knew the rest of it was nonsense. Complete bull**** morelike... But the more he thought those words, the less he believed them. He didn't just look different, he was different. He didn't think in the same way he used to or feel the same way he was used to feeling. Matthew had been a coward. He'd never had the guts to even get near the door. He would have just curled up on his bed and waited for someone to come rescue him.

Matt, however, wasn't like that. Confidence raced through him like lava, stretching from each muscle to the next. Matt wasn't afraid to step up to the door, to grasp its handle in his hand, even find out what was behind it. But best of all, better than strength or confidence, for the first time in his life, Matt felt defiant.

And he loved it.

Stepping back to the bed, Matt unzipped the front of his jeans and preceeded to empty the contents of his bowels onto the sheets below. Finishing his business, Matt turned his head to the ceiling above and, with a grin that stretched almost the entire length of his face, announced loudly "Here's what I think of your 'changes' Doc." Then, with a final tinkle, Matt rezipped his pants and strode out of the room.

A moment later, he was back.

On his knees, Matt opened the door slowly this time and peered round the edges of the frame just in time to see a row of shadowed figures disappear into the darkness. Checking to see that there were no more, he stepped out once again and began to make his way through the graveyard. He had no idea what he had seen, only that his intial exit had placed him right in their warpath. Thinking quickly on the Doc's words, Matt decided that no amount of curiosity could make him want to find out and the close encounter was quickly buried in his mind.

Now aware that strange creatures prowled the unnerving landscape, Matt found himself more receptable to its sites. Not a single tomb or tree escaped his notice as he trudged carefully through the untamed weeds. Death seemed to have an unholy hold on this place. Little grew here; but that which did seemed twisted and dmeonic to his eye, as though some sinister force had possessed it to grow this way as opposed to the way in which it was accustomed. The lack of smell quickly caught his attention too. From his memories, Matt could recall times when he had eaten things that could be described as having 'no taste', there was nothing in their flavour that could distinguish them from naything other than bland. 'No smell', however, was a concept he had no recollection of and the very idea of it only seemed to heighten his unease.

Passing through a hole in a fence, Matt was relieved to have finally left the graveyard unharmed though this change of scenery did little to comfort his nerves. The grass was thicker here and greener also. Looking back, Matt was shocked to find that the whole he had just passed through seemed to have been created by an unknown force and to its side he could see more similar holes. Beyond them, tracks stretched back through the graveyard, mirroring the path he had taken. He wondered if they belonged to the creatures that had almost uprooted him earlier. He turned back to this new ground and found paths edged in the grass - one smaller than the rest. Curious, he began to follow it.

It didn't take him long to find its source; a young woman - younger than him at least - was laying on her side, panting heavily. She didn't seem to have noticed his approach so Matt knelt down and touched her shoulder with his hand. Instantly, the girl leapt away from his touch and whirled to face him, her breaths heavy and her eyes glowing a bright shade of blue. Matt wondered if she was one of the 'natives' the Doc had spoken about. Sure she looked human - so Matt had instantly assumed she might be 'like him' - but he could be wrong. He'd been wrong before...

"I'm not a native." Her lips didn't move but he was sure the words were coming from her. Strange thing was, he oculd have sworn he'd heard them in his head, not his ears.

Matt held up his hands to signal his own innocence. "Me neither." He stretched out a hand towards her, unsure of whether she would take it but deciding that it was probably the best course of action to take now that the intial panic was over. "My name's Matt," he told her, smiling timidly in an attempt to seem as friendly as possible, "I'm a Nethermorph."

[Cxjenious]

::Cassandra Palmer::

"Hush little Kaleb don't say a word, momma gonna buy me a mockingbird....."

The voice was muffled, but she could hear it clearly, as if the child was standing next to her... What the fuck? This hell was the last place she'd expected to hear a child... but what if it wasn't a child, and just one of those twisted expirements? Can't find out unless you open the door, coward, she thought to herself.

She grasped the knob, turned it, and kicked the door open, taking a quick step back at the same time, just incase there was something less than 'friendly' inside. Her nose was assaulted by the musty smell of stale air and old books, and blood; the musty stench was so strong to her that she had to pinch her nostrils together. She expected to be horrified by the corpse on the floor, but it only held her interest for a few moments before she pinpointed where the voice was coming from. She could feel her ears twitch towards the sound.

"Kaleb?" She stepped into the room, not even caring to maneuver around the corpse. Instead she stepped over it, knowing that she should've had some aversoin to the sight, but it just didn't bother her. Must not be too old, she thought, if it doesn't stink.

"Kaleb, you don't have to be afraid," she whispered, stooping down till she could just barely see him through the legs of the chair.

She wasn't exactly a motherly woman, but she did like children, if no more reason than the fact that they were so innocent, undisturbed by the world's horrors. Except for this one, she silently added.

As she eased towards the chair, her head bent low, she didn't expect to be assaulted by anything. She had assumed that there were no 'natives' on this floor. But, she surmised, the acrid, rotting, decaying smell that hit her nose could be none other than the scent of a native.

"Fuck!" she whispered vehemently, knowing that whatever was coming would be hideous and no doubt, extremely fucked up.

"Stay where you are Kaleb." she warned, rising to her feet. She took two quick steps over to the mahogany desk against the wall, and proceeded to rip off a chunk of wood. Her claws helped tremendously in this endevour, and it was only then that she realized that she even had claws. Her constant mutterings of 'what the fuck' where beginning to get repetitive, so she didn't say anything, and just accepted it.

She then turned towards the door, noticing that the smell was getting stronger, overwhelmingly so, so she ripped a yellowed piece of paper out of a nearby book, ripped off to little corners, balled them up, and stuffed them in her nose. By that time, the origin of the smell was standing in the doorway, and she was almost suprised that the creature didn't inspire more fear in her.

It was ugly, to say the least, but at first glance, didn't seem overly threatening. It was only about as tall as her chest, but its arms dragged against the floor, and it had no legs. It looked kind of like a snake, with blood matted fur and chimpanzee arms. Its head was a mix of monkey and snake, and it was the source of the rotten smell. The head was roughly the size of soccer ball, but it was angular in shape, with a slit for an eye, pointed, furry ears, and fangs for teeth. The only thing was, half of its face was rotten; one eye was dangling from its socket, the creature's nose was just a mass of tissue, and its bottom jaw looked like part of it had been melted.

"You are, undoubtebly, the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

Oddly, she felt no fear at all, for she knew this creature was a failure, and she herself, a success. Therefore, in her mind, she had no reason to fear the vile creature... she wondered if she would even need her 'weapon' to kill it.

It blinked in response, and then, with no warning at all, coiled, and launched itself at her, its mouth open in a silent snarl. Forgetting the makeshift stake in her hands, she thrust her foot out, catching the creature right in the chest, just as it swiped at her face. As it recoiled from the attack, she pounced at it, driving her stake into its head. It gave a gurgling grunt before it died, and only when it did finally die did she notice the throbbing pain in her skull. It had hit her hard. She didn't notice the blood that had splattered over her face.

"Okay Kaleb," she said, her breathe coming faster from the rush of adrenaline she'd experienced, "you can come out now. I promise not to hurt you." she stated, turning back to face the boy hiding behind the chair.

[Shadow Djinn]

Cyrus Romfell
-

A roar split the teenager's thoughts, and he looked up feebly, feeling his arms suddenly cramp, wincing from the fatigue that ravaged his frame. He gazed towards a tree -- devoid of life -- spotting a skulking creature attempting to conceal itself behind it. Eyes widening, Cyrus quickened his pace, looking back every few seconds as the creature continued its hostile tones. He made an attempt to dash down the beaten path, only to halt several seconds later, clutching his chest.

Whatever I did back there took a lot out of me...

He fell to the earth on one knee, heard the pattering footsteps as his assailant began to stalk toward him. Desperation began to blossom as he made feeble attempts to rise; with each attempt he felt more and more of his already minuscule amounts of energy leave him.

I can't die yet...

The previous growling suddenly escalated into a full fledged snarl and Cyrus threw himself to the earth in reflex, ignoring the dirt that scattered, staining his plain white shirt, his eyes closed in anticipation for the inevitable.

Claws raked lightly against his back, and with a cry, Cyrus leapt to his feet, gasping as he felt a surge of energy flood his body. Skidding along the dirt, the beast snarled again, lunging for a second time, fangs bared. Evading another of the strikes, the teenager gasped faintly as his eyes fell on his assailant.

The beast was hideous; a black, leathery skinned quadruped, with its legs torn and matted with blood, an ear entirely ripped off, crimson, slitlike eyes peering at its prey. Spines ran along the creature's muscled frame, devoid of any form of fur, claws stained with blood of its past victims.

"Holy sh --"

The beast lunged again, and panic surged through the youth, looking away as he drove a hand forward in an attempt to parry the blow.

His previous surge of energy swiftly departed him, and emerald wisps coalesced in his open palm, siphoning his body's strength, feeding it into a growing orb of sparking force. The beast's eyes widened in surprise as the orb shot forward, colliding with his torn jugular, the resulting blast rending Cyrus' foe in two.

The dull thump of its dismembered form colliding with earth caused the teenager to glance back, unsure of his outcome.

He felt nausea pulsing through him as his eyes fell on the torn apart creature, his hand smoking, a faint crimson spreading along his palm.

His head felt lightheaded, his limbs weak and unable to move, his lungs gasping for air.

He crumpled to the ground with a despondent groan, buffeted by the constant waves of fatigue and pain. Fighting with all his will against these setbacks, the teenager managed to rise, staggering forward, dirt now lining the front of his shirt.

He glanced upward, seeing a foreboding cemetery in the distance.

I'd rather fall asleep against a tombstone than a carcass, the boy thought bitterly.

And he walked on.

[Mystic_clown]

Jackson Pryce
--------------------------------------------------

After sitting in silence for a few minutes, Jackson had calmed down a bit, although he was still shaking from it all. He looked over the dark, dank wine cellar. A small part of his brain wondered if there was any wine in any of those casks. Sure, it was a random though, but he figured a small drink may help calm his jangled nerves.

He slowly made his way through the dark, trying to find a light switch of some kind. Thankfully, it wasn’t dark to the point that was stumbling over things.

Fumbling across the cold, dusty stone walls, he gave a small smile when he finally found the familiar plastic of a light switch. When he flipped it, a few of the bulbs blew, a few sparks sprang from the already broken lights, but the rest turned on perfectly.

However, unbeknownst to the blonde, he had awoken something in the shadows.

There was a small wooden table with some tasting glasses on them. Some were shattered, but a few, while damaged in some way, were still usable. Taking the least damaged one (it was slightly chipped, but Jackson didn’t mind), he wiped away some of the dust with his coat before walking over to one of the casks.

He had expected wine, but it didn’t bother him when Cognac filled his glass. He was all for trying new things. He shuddered slightly as the strong liqueur went down his throat. He felt his body warm slightly and his trembling subside. He would definitely need to get used to the taste though.

He was about to get another drink when he heard something, almost like something brushing against something else. He stayed perfectly still, hearing out for the noise. But none came.

The blonde shrugged. Maybe he was just hearing things. As he poured himself a second drink, he failed to hear the clicking noise of something against against stone.

As he rose the glass to his lips, he heard what sounded like a loud spitting sound and felt something hit his arm, knocking the glass out of his hand, causing it to shatter on the stone floor.

His eyes shot to his arm. It looked like it was covered in some sort of webbing the trailed into the darkness.

Following the web, Jackson’s eyes widened when he saw four, glowing eyes in the darkness. The web went taught as he felt whatever it was pulling him from the light. Jackson pulled back, preferring not to find out what the hell that thing was. However, it was proving to be too strong.

As soon as he was out of the light, it struck. Jackson felt whatever it was pounce on him. All he could see was its eyes, but it felt hairy, with some smooth bits. He felts something sharp slash his cheeks, like something was snapping at him.

Mustering up his strength, he heaved whatever it was off of him, into the light. He turned to see what it was.

It was a horribly deformed insect of son kind, most likely a spider. It was mostly hairy, with small, black bone like hooks on the end of its spindly legs. It had large mandibles on the sides of its disgusting, drooling mouth. It’s abdomen was the most disgusting feature. Hairless and almost a green huh, it was bulbous, bloated, almost resembling a gigantic zit. There was a sharp barb on the end, a stinger of some kind.

Jackson watched as the repulsive insect screeched in pain before making a mad dash out of the light.

It was sensitive to light.

As the creature dashed into the darkness, Jackson ran into the light, a small plan forming in his head. The spider caught his arm with another burst of webbing before trying to pull him into the darkness. Jackson didn’t put up as much resistance this time, as he waited until he was close enough.

As the spider lunged for him, Jackson grabbed hold of it.

While using one arm to keep the monster’s jaws from chewing him to a pulp, he grabbed it by the hairs of its body and tried to drag it over to the light.

The spider seemed to notice this as it thrashed about in his grasp. It managed to tore itself from Jackson’s hold, but he was not going to let it get away. He lashed out to grab hold of it again.

The spider shrieked in pain and Jackson gasped at what happened.

He hand had changed into a claw of some kind, his fingers changing into bone-like hooks, which were now imbedded in the insect’s flesh. The spider tried to pull itself away, but Jackson’s hooked fingers kept it from going anywhere.

It shrieked in agony as it was dragged into the light. Jackson, still holding onto it, reached to one of the smashed casks. With a feat of strength he didn’t even know he had, he tore a chunk of wood from it

With one hard swing, he stabbed the piece of wood into the spider’s head. The spider shrieked as it’s green blood spurted from the wound as Jackson ruthlessly pushed further. Normally, Jackson was not a violent person, but the fact that he had been experimented on, left on an island and being attacked repeatedly by monsters would have an affect on someone’s passivism.

Giving on last, hard push, he tore his hooked claw from the insect’s body, tearing out some of its flesh in the process. The spider stumbled around in pain before finally collapsing to the floor, dead.

Jackson stood there for a moment, panting. He looked down at his hand. It had changed back to normal, although it was still covered in the spider’s blood.

He stood there in silence, wondering what to do next.

[Silencer]

-------------------
Axel
-------------------

Axel took a look through the foliage. He tried to see the creature but it was gone. Axel let out a sigh of relief and bend his head. Axel stood up from his crouched position and started to move in his previous direction. Or atleast where he taught he was coming from.

"Damnit, I'm lost. But what do you want. When a crazy monster is chasing me, I don't really pay attention to the sights."

Axel slapped his head.

"Don't go crazy, talking to yourself is not a good sign."

Axel slapped his head again.

"And responding to yourself is even worse."

Suddenly his foot stood on something... not earth-like. It was more flexible. Axel looked down and could barely distinct a green line. At first stage he taught it was a snake but when he followed it, the thing was attached to a shoulder and thus to a body. The same creature was staring at him again.

"Oh son of a ..."

Axel was cut short of finishing his sentence as the creatures other arm shot forward and expanded. Axel dodged and the harm had a firm grasp on one of the trees behind him. So firm that bark shot of it.

Not pondering to long, Axel started to run. He rushed right into a very thick part of the forest. The boy started to lash out to keep the branches hitting his face, but noted it went easier then it was suppose to.

Axel didn't ponder about this to long as the creature, with stretched legs, gave chase in the path he made. The boy needed to come to a sudden stop as he reached a cliff. Axel was trapped, nowhere to go except in the creatures way.

He looked around desperatly in search of a weapon and then looked at his hands. His pinkies were now formed like a knife and seemed to made out of steel.

"Seriously, what the hell is going on?"

Not having much time left, the youth decided he had to make a stand. The creature just came out the forest and shot his arm forward again. Axel shopped into its palm and cut straight through it. Not waisting a moment he rushed forward and slashed in a same manner on the neck.

Axel turned around to see the damage he had done to the creature but gasped for breath. Its head was still hanging to its body with a tiny strand of its flesh. But the creature was confused as it stumbled about, not managing to recollect itself as the entire world was shaking and upside down. Until finally it fell down the cliff and splattered on the rocks below.

Axel looked at his hands and they were back to normal. Axel considered his options and made a dash into the forest once again.

There has got to be some kind of shelter around here

----------

Sorry if there is a lot of spelling/grammar mistakes. I currently don't have Word so...

[Drusilla]

Posting my signup... post to follow shortly... It's all ready been approved, so if anyone wishes to encounter her, be my guest.


Name: Lana Evans
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Former Appearance: Tall and slender, standing at 5'9 and weighing about 150 pounds, she's always stood out in a crowd with her long, brilliant auburn hair. Her fair skin accented her reddish hair and bright green eyes to make her a face that was hard to forget. Her body is toned and sleek, her muscles softly defined under flawless skin. Everything is in perfect proportion to everything else, except for her slightly large breasts.
New Appearance: Her hair and eyes, at first glance normal, are actually iridescent. Eyes, once a brilliant but plain green, now slightly larger and more almond-shaped shine with shades of blue and purple as well; her now black hair reflects with the same colors.
Her clothing now looks somewhere between that of a doll and a dominatrix; a black PVC dress clings to her body like a second skin, with buckles over the shoulders and a lace-up front (that accent rather than cover her chest) holding everything in place. Where it reaches her hips, it flares out into folds that, rather stiffly, fall halfway to her knees. Black and white striped stockings start at just above the knees and go down into low-heeled black suede pumps.
Personality: "Seemingly sweet and innocent, yet devious and manipulative" sums her up pretty well. Before, she was willing to go to almost any length to get what she wanted; somehow, after the experiment, she seems to have lost what little reservations she had. When she wants something, nothing will stand in her way for long. Lust and ambition drive her, one or both often couple with revenge to make her a formidable adversary.
Powers: Her reflexes and dexterity have been greatly increased, making her almost impossibly graceful normally, and deadly in hand-to-hand combat. Her eyesight is extremely sharp, but sensitive to bright light; she sees better in the dark.
History: Nothing extraordinary... a college graduate from the Midwest on her way to travel Europe and see the world before she settled down in New York City as an up-and-coming model. She holds a degree in English with a minor in creative writing, hoping to write on the side to suppliment her income until one or the other took off... but it was not to be. Her last memory is leaving a shop in downtown Düsseldorf, Germany.
Relationships: Nothing as of yet. She enjoys playing cat and mouse with men... The more she has chasing after her, the happier she is.
Other:

[Blademaster]

Enigma

-------------------------------------------

CRUNCH!

The door to the mansion flew off its hinges, splintering in half as the violent man kicked it in a good five feet. As he ducked through the doorway, a foul, musty smell invaded his nostrils.

"Shit, this place stinks!" the man growled. "And what is with this fucking decor? This is so fucking cliche, it's painful!"

He wandered through the dim foyer, squinting as hard as he could, but still unable to see in the darkness.

'Oh, for fuck's sake...' he thought.

Suddenly, memories of his bizarre encounter with the creature at the mansion's entrance flashed back into his mind.

'OK, let me think here... I can change my hands into other stuff... OK, concentrate... Concentraaaaaate...'

He closed his eyes and held up his hand, clenching it into a fist. His forehead wrinkled; sweat beaded on his face as his fist expanded into a spherical shape, losing color until it was a clear bulb. Slowly, two metallic filaments extended from the base of the interior of the bulb; a spark of electricity appeared between them, flickering for a few seconds before finally lighting up with power like a 40-watt bulb.

The man sighed, his head aching from the strain of the chemical reaction that had just happened in his hand... At least he could see now, though...

Dead ahead of him was a corridor marred with cobwebs and dust; doors on either wall extended down as far as the eye could see. They were all dirty, dusty, crooked, splintered...

But one door in particular caught the crude man's eye - it was, in comparison to the others, surprisingly clean and unbroken.

'Oh, that doesn't look suspect at all.' the man thought bitterly. He walked up to the door, flash-bulb hand raised. Slowly, he reached for the knob, a small broze plaque on it catching his eye:

Project G47-C31

The man frowned as door opened, exposing a bright white light that broke his concentration, causing his hand to revert to normal. He quickly shielded his eyes, giving them a few moments to adjust before he could finally focus on the room surrounding him...

He was in a sterile white room, totally featureless save for a bed, a mirror, and a blinding white light fixture in the ceiling...

"Oh, God damn it, not this again!" he barked.

His voice, however, had an odd effect this time around - something smashed him in the back of the head.

"OW, MOTHERFUCKER!!!" he screeched, rubbing the back of his head and spinning around, fists clenched. "OH, YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, ASSHO-"

He stopped short as his eyes focused on his assailant...

Standing in front of him was a woman who looked like a cross between a kickboxer and a BDSM porn starlette. Her black hair fell down her back like a lustrous waterfall, and her eyes were a vivid greenish-blue, full of anger and several other, more primal emotions her target recognized all too well.

"Holy shit..." the man said, temporarily taken aback by this avatar of eroticism.

That was all she needed to kick him in the stomach, causing him to double over - seconds before an uppercut sent him reeling back into the door, slamming it shut again.

"Bastard!" she spat. "Let me the fuck out of here!"

The man got to his feet, his bleeding nose barely registering in his mind as he shot back:

"The fuck out of WHERE?! Out into the rest of this monster-infested shithole!? Fine, be my guest!"

She narrowed her eyes.

"So then you're the psycho that brought me here!?"

"Are you fucking kidding me!? I woke up in the middle of this hellhole in this same damn room, out there in the woods some-fucking-where - I didn't do a damn thing!"

There was a brief pause, before she slowly lowered her fists a bit and asked:

"Why should I believe you...?"

"Why?" he replied, fuming. "WHY?! I'll tell you why: Because I've been shipped all over the fucking world, fighting every scumbag sand monkey in Soviet-fucking-Cannuckistan and back, and I FINALLY get a chance to get some fucking R&R, and where do I wind up!? Some shithole in the middle of nowhere, turned into a Goddamn trans-fucking-mutant and forced to fight hoard after hoard of un-fucking-godly sideshow freaks straight out of every Resident fucking Evil game in existence! THAT'S why! Any other questions!?"

The woman didn't look at all pleased with the way she was being addressed, but between the circumstances of the moment and the tones of exasperation and confusion in the hostile man's voice, she ignored it - as much as she didn't want to believe what she was hearing, she couldn't think of any more logical explanation than that what 'The Doc' had said was true, and that this man before her was another of his 'test subjects.'

"Yes..." she finally said. "Mr. Personality, I do have one more question... Who the Hell are you, anyway?"

The man, who'd been breathing heavily since his outburst a moment earlier, closed his eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths.

"I'm... My name is..."

He paused... What was his name again? For some reason, he couldn't seem to remember... All that came to his mind was what he'd read on the plaque he saw when he first left his room...

"3N1-6M4..." he muttered to himself...

"Huh?" the woman asked, her tone making it clear that her patience was wearing thin.

The code ran over and over in the nameless man's mind, slowly changing with each cycle.

'3N1-6M4...

...3N1-6M4...

...3NI-6M4...

...3NI-GM4...

...ENI-GM4...

...ENI-GMA...'

That's when it clicked.

"My name..." the man said one more time, looking at the woman with a strange confidence in his eyes. "My name is Enigma."

------------------------------------------------

OK, Drusie, I've done as you asked... Hopefully I didn't screw anything up too bad. ><;;;

So, uh... next?

[Drusilla]

*applauds wildly* Bravo!

Lana Evans
You promised more than bliss...
with your God and with your kiss

I only half listened to the voice, just wanting to go back to sleep in all honesty. No longer human? My humanity had been in question for many years now... I was alive, so I found this not much of a problem to me. Death was a rather permanent problem, so as long as I was alive, there was something I could work with.

Now, I didn't like the detachment or idleness in which this "Doc" seemed to regard my person, or, apparently, what ever others there might be here. It was disgusting, inhuman... and vaguely reminded me of myself.

I sighed, wishing only for darkness; the light overhead burned my eyes and made my head hurt. There was no apparent switch to turn it off. I rolled over and pulled myself off the bed, only to stop dead at my reflection in the full-length mirror. Now, I seemed to have developed a blank spot in my memory in regards to my appearance, but everything seemed wrong. My hair fell to my waist, straight and black, but as the light hit it, sent off blue and purple refractions. My eyes seemed slightly too large for my slender face, and they, too, had that same blue and purple sheen. I reached out to the mirror, tracing the reflection of my face slowly, as if in a trance.

A loud noise from outside startled me.

I turned, staring at the door. Something was out there. I glanced about the room and saw nothing that I might defend myself with. Cautiously, I approached the door, opened it, and peered out. Not far away, I heard what sounded like a voice; I shut the door behind me just as a faint light appeared at one end of the hallway. It appeared that whomever was down there had not noticed my escape, though since they were making their way towards me, it was only a matter of time. Looking around quickly, I grabbed a splintered chunk of wood from the ground, cursing silently at the rotted condition, and backed off enough that I was out of the range of light. Hopefully, he wouldn't see my eyes or hair...

He pushed the door open, and his arm (which, I now realized, had looked strangely like a light bulb) shifted back to normal. The light revealed his features; he was young, around my own age, and definitely not hard on the eyes. A voice in the back of my mind said, ...prey.... It made me shiver, though not unpleasantly.

The bright light of the room overwhelmed his eyes, and he stood there, blinking. "Oh, God damn it, not this again!"

I took my chance and slammed the partially rotted piece of wood into the back of his head, knowing it wouldn't knock him out. He whirled around to face me, a steady stream of profanities issuing from his mouth, ready to fight... until he saw me. His eyes met mine, and I momentarily forgot what I had been doing. They were a perfect blue with a hint of green, and for a second, I wanted nothing more than to be lost within them.

"Holy shit..." he whispered horsely, staring at me. His voice broke me of my trance. I lifted my foot and slammed it into his stomach, winding him, before swinging my fist upwards into his jaw. All those hours spent in the gym seemed to have paid off finally; he stumbled, but right into the door, closing it. My escape was cut off.

"Bastard! Let me the fuck out of here!" I cried out, furious at him for being here and at myself for not knocking him back further.

He looked up at me, face bloody (I congratulated myself on this feat), and shot back, "The fuck out of WHERE?! Out into the rest of this monster-infested shithole!? Fine, be my guest!"

I narrowed my eyes, my mind jumping to an abrupt conclusion. "So then you're the psycho that brought me here!?" Rage, unlike anything I'd known before, filled me, and my vision sharpened quite suddenly, focusing on the man standing before me.

"Are you fucking kidding me!? I woke up in the middle of this hellhole in this same damn room, out there in the woods some-fucking-where - I didn't do a damn thing!"

It took a moment for this to register with me, and then I realized that this man was probably one of the others like me who were captive here as well. The thought had never occurred to me... which, in itself, was rather worrisome. I had wanted a fight, and instead seemed to have lashed out at another innocent. Still... with my situation unknown, it was best to be wary. I narrowed my eyes, trying to remain cautious without being overly suspicious of him.

"Why should I believe you...?"

This seemed to have pushed a button, as he began to rant.
"Why? WHY?! I'll tell you why: Because I've been shipped all over the fucking world, fighting every scumbag sand monkey in Soviet-fucking-Cannuckistan and back, and I FINALLY get a chance to get some fucking R&R, and where do I wind up!? Some shithole in the middle of nowhere, turned into a Goddamn trans-fucking-mutant and forced to fight hoard after hoard of un-fucking-godly sideshow freaks straight out of every Resident fucking Evil game in existence! THAT'S why! Any other questions!?"

While far from polite, I took his response as proof that he was, in fact, one here under circumstances like my own. "Yes... Mr. Personality, I do have one more question... Who the Hell are you, anyway?"

This seemed to be unexpected, and he opened his mouth. "I'm... My name is..." He paused, apparently thinking. Perhaps, like myself, he had blank spots in his memory... though the idea that he forgot his own name... I couldn't fathom what that must be like. He muttered something under his breath, which irritated me.

"Huh?"

He stopped to think again, then gathered himself. "My name... My name is Enigma."

I blinked at him and his newfound confidence. I wanted this man, so I should be careful not to insult him. But Enigma?! What kind of a name was that. A name for a man without one, I supposed...

"So... Mr. Enigma..."

"It's Enigma. No 'Mr.' needed... Who *are* you, anyway? And how'd you get dragged into all this bullshit, too?" He looked at me, frowning.

I shrugged, figuring there was nothing for me to lose. "I am Lana Evans, just another girl from the Midwest... Though the last place I remember being was Germany..."

"So, you've got this amnesia shit, too... Terrific. Well, I take it that you know a bit of whatever the fuck is going on here, right?"

I shook my head. "No, I've just woken up..."

"OK, well, here's the basic scenario. You, me, and who knows who else are in some hellhole that looks like it was torn straight out of Resident Evil. Some fucking looney's been experimenting on us, and now we have these powers."

I nodded, thinking. "I see... and, I take it, each of us is different..." I frowned. "While I don't like the idea of being "experimented on" in that way, I find it intriguing..." My mind flew through the possibilities, wondering what kind of scientific boundaries had been pushed further back by these experiments that I, apparently, had been a part of.

"Different? I have no fucking clue... All I know is that I can turn my hand into different shit... Probably other parts of me, too." He raised his arm into the light, and his hand transformed into a silver mallet, then back. "I dunno..."

"Hmmm..." Several rather vivid images flitted through my mind as to exactly what other parts could shift. I smiled. "Oh, the possibilities."

From the look on his face, Enigma was having similar thoughts. He smirked. "I have a feeling I like the way you think..."

I laughed. "Though, if there are monsters running about... it's a shame, doesn't seem to leave much time for... experimentation."

He reached behind him and pulled out a shotgun. "I beg to differ. Fucking freaks... Nothing that a little hot lead and cold steel won't fix."

My eyes widened, slightly taken aback. "Hmmm... my my my, what a big gun you have..."

He looked at me, his face betraying nothing this time. "And I keep it loaded at all times... just in case."

I smiled slowly. "I'm sure you do..."

He smiled back at me. "Well, you know what they say... It pays to be... prepared..."

I nodded in response. "And I must say that I completely agree."

He looked at me closely. "You're a smart one, Lana... You, on the other hand, seem to be unarmed... Need a bodyguard?"

I blushed, right on cue. "You're too kind... Yes, I think it would be... beneficial... for both of us to go about this place together..."

He nodded. "All right, then... But I gotta warn you, there's some sick shit out there. Maybe you should have a weapon, too."

I licked my lips, thinking. "We'll just have to see what happens... won't we?"

[Mystic_clown]

Jackson Pryce
----------------------------------------------
After some careful consideration, Jackson decided to leave the cellar. Like it, the rest of the building seems to have fallen into dilapidation and ruin. A fine layer of dust coated everything, being kicked up by his feet as he walked. Though there was the occasionally painting or some other form of decoration, it was damaged, most likely by one of the monsters roaming the place.

The floorboards groaned as he quietly moved down the halls. He mentally wished the damn things would shut up. He didn’t want to attract any more unwanted attention.

The hall ended with a pair of large double doors before him. He was hesitant at first, mainly because there might be something behind it, something that would take great pleasure in having him as a late night snack.

Slowly, he pushed the doors open, ready to slam them shut and run if he saw anything move inside.

Much to his relief, the room was empty.

It was a dining room, possibly used by the inhabitants before it was turned into a laboratory. The long dining table in the center of the room was in pretty good condition. Some of the chairs were smashed, but some where just knocked over. Any form of decoration was damaged, although a torn of portrait hung on the far end of the room, above the doors. The dust circulated in the air and some of the floorboards were broken, going down into blackness.

Quietly, Jackson took a few steps into the room, looking around. This place would have been a fine piece to live once upon a time, before these monstrosities made it their home.

Looking around the room, he failed to notice that something was watching him from below.

But he did notice a bizarre flower poking up from the floorboards.

It caught his curiosity. Was the place so overgrown that the plants had made their way inside? And just what breed of plant was this exactly?

He knelt down to inspect it more closely.

Then there was the crash of something tearing it’s way through wood, a force sent Jackson back a foot.

Quickly regaining his sense, his blood froze in his veins when he saw what was before him.

It was enormous, resembling a cross between numerous kinds of plants, mainly a cactus and venus flytraps. Its main body was bulbous, hundreds of sharp spikes covering the surface. A number of corpses of other experiments were skewered on them, like some macabre decoration. On top was a large blood red flower. As it’s petals, a number of tongue like tendrils lashed out like whips. A number of larger, thicker tendrils protruded from its base, some with snapping, drooling maws while others had what almost appeared to be blade like leaves on the ends. A few thinner tendrils had flowers like the one he saw, pointed at him as if they acted like eyes.

The creature let out a terrible shriek, and Jackson screamed in terror.

Scrambling to his feet, he made a mad dash for the door, which, thankfully, was still open. However, as he made it through the door, the floor splintered as a bladed tendril shot out behind him.

A sharp pain went through his upper right leg, and he lost all feeling from below his knee. He slammed into the ground, crying out in pain. His eyes shot to the blood stump that was his right leg and screamed in shock. He watched as one of the mouthed tendrils grabbed the severed limb and lifted it up about the plant’s ‘mouth’ before dropping it in. It almost made Jackson nauseous, seeing his own leg being eaten.

Realizing he wasn’t out of the woods, the blonde quickly tried to pull himself upright, hopping like mad away from the mutant plant. He cried out in pain and terror when the blade sliced through his other leg, sending him crashing to the ground.

Dragging himself with his arms,, he watched with terror as the tendrils closed in, it’s many mouths snapping with hunger as they closed in.

Jackson’s heart raced with terror. This was it. He was going to die, to be eaten by a giant plant. Frantically pulling himself away from the approaching limbs, he shrieked maddeningly for help.

“HELP ME PLEASE! IF THERE’S ANYONE HERE! HELP ME!!!”

TAG.

[Drusilla]

Lana Evans
Stripped of life, alone
In the midst of something that I
Want to play with your evil inside

To say that Enigma and I hit it off would be a bit of an... understatement. He was just getting rather friendly (and I rather undressed) when the screams broke us of our little adventure.

There were two, one of rage and one of terror. The terrified scream was human, I supposed. Enigma ignored them, finding my neck a much more interesting prospect than rushing off to save the unknown shrieker. His teeth grazed the skin, none too gently, as the screams broke into intelligible words.

“HELP ME, PLEASE! IF THERE’S ANYONE HERE, HELP ME!!!”

I tried to pull away from Enigma, which annoyed him. He glared at me.

"If that guy is too stupid or weak to save himself, then let him die. I'm not going off to rescue anyone and put myself in danger in the process. I can take care of myself; I say everyone else should do the same," he growled at me.

I pushed him away with a strength I didn't know I had. "There's strength in numbers... and I want answers. Who knows what this guy might be able to tell us?" I pulled my dress back on and laced myself up. Enigma looked furious, but didn't press the point. Without waiting to see if he was going to follow, I went into the hallway and sprinted in the direction of the disturbance. To call it a fight wouldn't be accurate.

I found that I moved with speed I never knew I had. Enigma decided to follow after all, though I outdistanced him soon enough. I saw remarkably well in the unlit passageway, as well... I began to wonder what other surprises lay in store for me.

A pair of double doors were ajar, and the source of the commotion was inside. I skidded to a halt at what met my eyes; a mutant plant-monster looked about ready to eat a man, who I assumed was the one who had begged for assistance. Momentarily fascinated, I stared at the creature with it's tendrils and snapping jaws before something clicked in my brain and I sprung into action. My eyes locked on the red flower that seemed to be the main "head" of the creature; this was my target.

Enigma tore into view, took in the situation, and promptly began to blast away at the thing with his shotgun. "It's no use!" he yelled at me, expecting me to leave the other man for dead, apparently. He was wrong.

I can't explain what happened, but everything around me became pure motion. I didn't see what moved, more that it did move. Anything that moved was something that I needed to avoid. My sight became extremely sharp, and I dashed around the one-legged man on the floor and towards the plant.

It shrieked at me, ignoring its former prey in favor of me, a new threat. I dodged the tendrils and snapping traps, not understanding how I did it. I just let my instinct take over, and I was practically flying. I grabbed two solid pieces of wood, which I assumed were once chair legs from the dining room set, one for each hand. The monster plant was tall, and fast... but I had to get to the top without being snaked on.

Darting in and out, I tormented it, and furniture was smashed to bits in my wake. I was always a split second ahead, and it infuriated the creature. Fury was good; even though I was probably going to be dead if it caught me, it was more likely to make a mistake now. I'd rush in, stab it, and jump out of the way. It was kind of like a nearly impossible game of jump rope... just that if you messed up, you were worse than just dead. You were lunch.

My hands were becoming bloody, though that wasn't quite the word. They were covered in the greenish ichor that the creature had for blood. I'd skewered a few of the tendrils, though not done much damage over all. I danced in yet again, stabbed, and found that my weapon was stuck. Too late; a vine-like tendril swiped me across the face and sent me flying into the far wall. My head connected, and I saw stars for a moment. I blinked a few times, my head clearing, and I saw that the creature had turned back to the man on the floor. Easier prey, I guessed. I still had one stake in my possession, and I saw my chance.

The ruined remains of a chandelier hung from the ceiling over the creature and to the left. It looked like it was just barely hanging on, but it would do for now. I shook my head, still slightly dizzy, and ran, jumped onto the table, and leapt for the chandelier. I saw the plaster above buckle at my weight, but had to act. My momentum swung me forward, and I stabbed the wooden stake into the thing's head with all the strength I could muster. It shrieked, blinded and impaled, as the wood broke through the other side of the flower-head. It struggled, but I knew it was in it's death throws; the irregular movement was panicked, all else forgotten.

That was when the plaster above me gave in. I, the chandelier, and a good-sized chunk of the ceiling fell onto the dying creature. I rolled away, gaining a few deep cuts for my efforts, but over all I was alive and well. I looked at the creature I had brought down and hissed. I don't know why, but I did.

I stared at it as it died, adrenaline surging through me, yet I wasn't winded at all. I felt alive, energetic, and knew I could do it again if I had to. I had killed and won.

My eyes drifted to the two men in the room, both of whom were staring at me like they'd never seen a woman before. I was still crouching on the floor, one knee down, the other bent and beside my arm. I looked right back at them, and I knew my eyes were feral, that I must look like some wild animal after a hunt.

Thing was, it didn't bother me.


*throws a bar stool*