darkSpyro

For centuries the world has been inhabited by 'Outcasts', people who were born with awesome powers, however they are dubbed as 'freaks' by everyone who disapproves of their abilities. These Outcasts have been ridiculed and made fun of for centuries, they were tortured and experimented on aswell as exiled from their homes due to their differences from the majority of the world.
But in the early 16th century a camp was built, a monstrous camp that could fit thousands of Outcasts. It was built by a man known as Deidicus Blair, he created the camp as a safe harbor for all Outcasts to live in peace and happiness, Somewhere the Outcasts could go and get an education and learn to control their abilities, a place they could work and live and find joy away from the judging grasp of the outside world. However the new leader of the camp, a mysterious man shrouded in darkness seems to have many secrets.

It's the last few days of Summer vacation and the younger members are trying to fit all the fun in the sun they can before their training lessons start up again.

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This is a continuation of an older roleplay
All characters who had met before still retain knowledge of each other and transpired events

We will start once I feel we have enough people to.

Rules: No Godmodding
Keep it PG-13 unless run by me otherwise
Be descriptive to the best of your ability, as in try to write more than a sentence for each post. It's not fair if someone writes an incredibly detailed paragraph and you reply with a sentence
I'll say there's no max on characters but don't go crazy
Try not to make your character too OP, try to list a weakness or two
Try not to have the same powers as someone else, diversify
These are young members so try to keep your age under 25 but above 16
Put Salamander at the top of your character sheet to prove you read the rules
Remember, this takes place in the real world, albeit somewhat more technologically advance, so be somewhat realistic
Try to roleplay in third person, it just makes it easier for everyone else to follow
If you have any major ideas for this roleplay send me a message
HAVE FUN!

Character Sheet:

Name:
Age:
Personality:
Appearance:
History:
Powers:

Name: Digby Blair
Age: 20
Personality: Digby can be a bit of a jerk, though not because he's a bully but more because he speaks his mind and a lot of filters others would have he doesn't, that's not to say he's rude, he's actually quite kind to people he feels might need some help. Digby is quite the troublemaker, often interrupting lessons to make a joke, though he most certainly isn't lazy as he always does his best in every field possible, though usually at his own pace. Digby can be seen as having a leader aspect to him, he's not afraid of marching into dangerous territory and he makes sure everyone feels safe. Decisive and sure of himself.
Appearance: Digby wears a gray t-shirt and an unzipped brown leather jacket over top. he wears blue jeans and black slip-ons. All of his clothes are made specially to form along with his body when he changes so as not to leave him naked when he changes back. Digby has spiked brown hair that he wears under a backwards red baseball cap and brown eyes, he stands at 5 foot 11 and is Caucasian with a slight tan. He carries white sunglasses with him inside of his jacket pocket.
History: Digby is the great, great, great, great, great...You get it, grandson of Deidicus Blair, he doesn't have much of a history as he didn't come to the camp like many others did, instead he was born there. The teachers at the camp never really cared for him despite his relation to the founder. He isn't exactly fond of running the camp like his ancestors. He never knew his parents.
Powers: Shane is a Shapeshifter, albeit an inexperienced one, he hadn't gained his powers up until a few years ago and he still can't make full transformations (Maybe because he likes to skip classes so much) Even so shifting takes a lot out of Digby and can cause him to crash if he tries too many transformations, hence his trying to further his stamina in training.

Name: Viridium "Quake"
Age: 22
Personality: Normally calm and collected, Quake is a caretaker of all, he won't let harm come to those he allies himself with, or anyone innocent in his mind, if harm would ever come to someone he cared about he would consider himself responsible and never let that go. Quake is humble, never wanting to overestimate his abilities in fear of losing his kindness for a large ego. Though calm and kind Quake will argue for everything he believes in, letting anger get to his head if those around him are too stubborn to know what to do. Being raised by women makes him incredibly prone to violent outbursts if ever a female is in harms way. He does not care for being called by his real name. If not careful his anger will control him. Quake also has a silly side, however he rarely has ever shown it due to his serious upbringing.
Appearance: Quake stands at six foot five and 300 pounds, though he is not even slightly overweight, instead the weight coming from his armor and muscles, without his armor he weighs about 160 and has a slightly bulky build which doesn't really correlate to his true strength. His armor is like a Knight's, but if it were created in a modern day society, it's made of a strange, resilient and incredibly strong metal. The armor is stained brown, with accents of green and gold, his visor is retractable. Quake carries two Double Edged Long Sword's in hilts on his back, aswell as two short orange swirl-patterned Battle Axe at his sides attached to straps on his back and a large metal heater shield with odd markings. When not in his armor Quake wears a long-sleeve green shirt, and a beige long-sleeve denim overcoat with a popped collar, he wears tight blue jeans and brown hiking boots. He wears a scar across his left eye.
History: Quake was raised on a small farm far from the Camp, though at this time he was known only as Viridium and he was weak and skin and bones at the time. He was the adopted son of two married women who obviously couldn't have a child of their own, he was adopted along with two other girls, Samantha and Tabitha, he was the eldest and would always be incredibly protective over them, whether it be boys or dangerous activities or whatever. Quake was a quiet child and would tend to the animals and crops, it soothed him and he felt a bond to the animals. One day one of the girls came home in tears, crying to the other sister about her boyfriend abusing her, Quake had overheard and a boiling rage grew inside him, he knew where the boy lived and without hesitation he made his way over to his residence, fueled with a burning and uncontrollable fire inside of him he took the boy in his seemingly weak hands, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him far above his head, the rage inside him continuing to build, he threw the boy against the wall, causing it to break, it was then he saw the horror in the boys eyes and he left, running home as tears strolled down his face, every step he took the ground shaking. He expressed what had happened to his family and they were shocked, though they accepted him for who he was, Quake knew that those with powers were sought out and killed. That night he ran away, leaving a note saying he'd come back one day. Quake eventually met up with a mysterious man who taught him how to harness his powers and control his anger, he gave him a suit of armor which made it impossible to move but after months of training he learned to carry it like a feather. One morning he awoke to find the man gone and the sound of sirens, he ran as far as he could til he stumbled upon the camp, a place only visible by the eyes of those with abilities or those welcomed in by higher authorities.
Powers: Quake has the ability of Terrakinesis, he can control the earth and much that comes from it such as metals. He aswell possesses incredible strength and stamina. He is also a skilled Swordsman and fighter. His main weakness is when he believes he isn't good enough, letting someone down, when someone is in trouble, if a female is being attacked he'll take extra caution due to his upbringing. His weapon of choice is a large green battle hammer that he keeps only for special occasions

Name: Jarvin "Jet" Justupin
Age: 18
Personality: Jarvin is brash, thinking himself better than most and that his time is precious, he cares very little for others though will put on an act for those that he needs something frown. He's hotheaded and has an incredible temper though he's not as strong as he thinks and that's often what causes his downfalls. He never knows when to quit and will go after anything he sets his mind on.
Appearance: When Jet isn't shirtless he wears a tight dark grey swim shirt, though it's hard for there to be a time where he is wearing a shirt. which dries incredibly fast in the sun, he also wears pitch black swimming trunks made of the same material and flipper looking shoes that cover his odd paws. A Shark tooth necklace is always around his neck. His hair is jet black and forms back to make a sort of fin looking shape. Jet has Razor sharp teeth and his eyes are small black slits instead of rounded irises. Jet has sharp retractable claws that form from his nails. Instead of feet he has grey webbed paw-like things. Coming out of the back of his clothes is a grey fin. He also contains gills on his neck and stands at a mere 5 foot 7, his entire body is gray except for his belly and chest which is beige.
History: Jet was orphaned, being taken across the sea on a boat to an island where children were bought as workers. During a fierce storm Jet was able to make his way to the top deck, though he was surrounded by the ship's crew, his only option being to jump, and so he did. Left for dead, the waves crashing and the lightning striking in the distance, high winds caused high tides and Jet sunk to the bottom of the ocean. When he awoke he was on a beach, surrounded by large beams that surrounded the entire area, he had been hauled to the Camp, though for what reason it was unclear to him, he had been told by the Camp's Leader that he had been found and brought by a scouter from the Camp. He went into a rage insisting he wasn't a freak though when he saw his reflection he noticed the change, his skin was grayer, the fin protruding from his back, his razor sharp fangs. He decided to learn about his abilities so one day he could take revenge on those that took him.
Powers: Jet has the ability to swim at about 60 MPH underwater, an incredibly impressive feat, though on land he's incredibly impaired due to his webbed, clawed feet. Jet's sense of smell is heightened and he is able to breathe underwater aswell as on land. He has a huge appetite and an incredibly fast metabolism which means he can't go long without food or he'll be with little to no stamina. Plus he can devour most materials with his razor sharp fangs.

I've wanted to join this since I first saw it. So this is my perfect chance to jump in.

Name: Salem Tethys
Age: 21
Personality: Salem is a fairly refined person, observing people before approaching them. He likes to know all he can about a person or subject matter and will patiently spend much time learning of it. He moves at a very casual pace. Be it friendships, battle, or merely daily activities, he will never be in much of a hurry to get things done. This does not mean he is lazy. He takes himself very seriously and only waits to assure he can put his best effort into everything he does. He only talks often to people he trusts - otherwise he keeps things short and sweet.
Appearance: Salem stands at the height of 6'1" and has a lean figure. His hair is thick with long bangs - which he trims often - and is deep black in colour. He generally prefers to wear black, grey, or white in clothing and avoids any and all vibrant colours whenever possible. His attire is usually business casual in appearance and he is always wearing a jacket. His eyes are a dull grey in colour, though this colour can be subject to change based on usage of his powers. He wears thin glasses and can often be seen wearing gloves made of thin material. Finally, he wears a golden ring with a rather small peridot gemstone on it.
History: Salem lived a quiet and refined life as a child. He spent much of his childhood alone, satisfied with his rather friendless existence, merely enjoying the world and it's surroundings at his own pace. One day, Salem was walking home from school during a peaceful snowfall when the weather took a vicious turn for the worst. The gentle snow became a howling storm, a Salem found that he was quickly freezing in the snow. He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes and pleading to the heavens he wouldn't freeze. That's when he noticed that, with a flash, the storm was gone. Townspeople naturally flew into a frenzy over the instantly changing weather, and it wasn't long before fingers started getting pointed at one another. Salem became reclusive, afraid he would be discovered, but he was unaware that his hiding was just making people more suspicious. When he looked out the window one day and saw strangers at his door, he panicked and fled. He ran and ran until he was safe, safe at a strange camp that would welcome him in.
Powers: Salem has atmokinesis and can alter the weather at will. He can make small and great alterations to the weather alike, which includes the banishing or bringing of pressure systems, clouds, hurricanes, storms, and tornadoes. He can use this weather as a self-defense mechanism, such as blowing away foes with vast winds or striking lightning at them during a storm. His powers are altered by emotional weakness, and if Salem is frightened, anxious, or angry, his powers can fluctuate out of control or fail. His eyes flash different colours when he uses his powers, the colour determined by the way he's influencing the weather.

EDIT: Sorry, I read the rules, but I suffer from short-term memory loss. So I totally forgot about Salamander. Here it is.

Accepted~<3

Salamander

Name: Arthur Wright

Age: 17

Personality: To put it simply, and perhaps bluntly, Arthur is the kind of kid who probably gets shoved into his locker by anyone who's bigger than him (which is pretty much everyone) and always gets, "Kick me," notes taped to his back. Quiet and meek, he either doesn't know how or simply doesn't have the courage (or muscle to back him up) to stand up for himself. Incredibly intelligent yet devastatingly lacking in social skills, it could be argued that Arthur is your stereotypical nerd. Coupled with his anxiety, he rarely utters a word unless it is asked of him, and even then, he has trouble articulating what he's trying to say. He seems to lose some of his ability to function in even the simplest of conversations, constantly fumbling over his words and rarely ever managing to maintain eye contact. Unsurprisingly, he is extremely introverted, and doesn't seek others out, though he will partake in conversation (to the best of his ability) should someone approach him.

Though it's hard to see past his awkwardness and timidity, anyone who Arthur manages to grow to be comfortable around (which is an outstanding feat in itself) will see that there is much more to him than what he is able to portray. He is passionate about music, something that is impossible to tell from merely interacting with him alone, unless an exceptionally perceptive individual notices the callouses on his fingertips. He is practiced in many different instruments, though he favors the violin, the piano, and the flute. He can play by ear and by reading music sheets. When alone (and only when he feels confident that no one will hear) he also enjoys humming. He also enjoys studying different cultures and is bilingual.

When not hiding inside his protective shell (which is rare, especially if there are others around) Arthur's personality seems to emerge a bit more, for aside from his shyness, he also expresses almost a sort of... determination. Determination to prove himself, to better himself, to make others see that there is more to him that just a stuttering idiot.

Appearance: Arthur is a small, lanky thing, standing at merely 5'4 and with a musculature that more resembles a scarecrow than a human being. His limbs are long and thin, and his hands possess long, bony piano fingers. The color of his skin is pale, with an almost grey-ish, sickly tone. He has an oblong shaped face with a long, large Roman nose that seems a bit disproportionate to the rest of his face. His facial features are narrow and angular, which, coupled with the darkness around his eyes, furthers the sickly appearance he seems to possess. Those eyes of his are also narrow in shape, and are a dull bluish-grey, like overcast skies. Underneath his eyes and on his nose and cheeks are faint freckles that can really only be seen close up. His ears are noticeably large, and seem to stick out more due to his short haircut of his dusty brown hair, which do nothing to hide or conceal them from prying eyes. His posture is almost always timid or defensive. He keeps his head bowed with his eyes lowered to the ground and he often has his arms crossed or wrapped around himself as if trying to warm himself from a chill. As for his apparel, he dresses perhaps a bit more formally than he should, as he usually wears brown or black slacks with a white dress shirt and black bowtie, seemingly regardless of the occasion. He wears neat, brown or black loafers on his feet and a similarly colored, simple belt around his waist. A pair of round glasses are always on his face.

History: All throughout his school years, even before his abilities in invisibility emerged, Arthur has always known to stay unnoticed. While his peers all tried to be somebody, to be seen, he did his best to be nobody, to be unseen. Attention to himself only meant a barrage of physical or emotional abuse from his peers, so it was best to stay hidden in plain sight. His footsteps became naturally light. He knew when it was best to hide, and when he could get away with slipping into a mass of bodies in the hallways and disappearing. It was a matter of survival for him. In order to survive, he had to stay undetected, under the radar, even when horrid beasts constantly roamed the halls and attended the same classes as he did.

His strange abilities emerged in a school bathroom stall one day when he was sixteen, when all he wanted was to curl up in a ball and disappear. And he did. It wasn't long after that he learned of the Outcast Camp and decided to stay there. He is a new arrival there, and probably next to no one even knows he exists. Which is how he likes it. How he survives.

(Kept purposefully brief. Further details will be touched on as the roleplay progresses.)

Powers:

Invisibility (Self): Arthur can voluntarily turn himself invisible, though sometimes he will involuntarily turn invisible if he is nervous, frightened, or embarrassed. When he voluntarily turns invisible, he can extend his invisibility to his clothes so that he can go completely undetected, but this takes slightly more concentration. Thus, when he involuntarily or unknowingly turns invisible, he tends to turn his body invisible, but not his clothes or whatever he might be carrying. This ends up looking like a set of clothes with glasses suspended in the air.

Invisibility (Objects/Others): Through greater effort, Arthur can extend his invisibility to objects or even to other people so long as he maintains physical skin-on-skin contact with them.

Name: They assume the identity of whatever mask they are wearing, though others have given them the alias “Anonymous”

Age: 21

Personality: Anonymous’s personality changes depending on the mask and/or costume they wear. Their gender identity also changes depending on their current costume/mask. For example, they might refer to themselves as male in one mask, then as female in another mask.

Appearance: Aside from standing at about 5’11, not much can be discerned about Anonymous, for their costumes and masks tend to conceal their features. Even their biological gender is unknown. Whenever they assume the role of a male or female, their voice is remarkably masculine or feminine, respectively, so even their voice does not hint to their biological gender.

History: This will be revealed throughout the roleplay.

Powers: Anonymous can – and has no choice but to – assume the identity, skills, and knowledge of any costume or mask they wear. For example, if they dressed as a ninja, they would assume the identity of one, as well as immediately have the skills and knowledge of a ninja. They would possess the techniques, as well as the strength and stamina, of a ninja. Anonymous can also assume the powers of their mask/costume. If they dressed up like Darth Vader, for example, then they would be able to use the Force. This assimilation of knowledge, skills, and powers is not permanent and cannot be added to by another mask/costume’s traits. Anonymous cannot, for example, put on a ninja costume, then put on another costume, and possess both costumes’ traits. They only possess the traits of their current costume, so when a mask/costume is taken off, the knowledge, skills, and/or powers go with it.

Accepted

Salamander

Name: Aileen Olan
Age: 19
Personality: She's a calm, collected individual. She's open-minded and wants others to speak freely and have a chance to voice their opinions. She tries to help people with their problems, but her monotone, matter-of-fact way of talking often puts people off, and at times she even comes across as rude with the general tone of her voice.
Appearance: Very tall, at a staggering eight feet, and very thin and lanky. Most clothes that fit her are too baggy and too short for her, and often has to have clothes tailored to fit her. She likes wearing simple, monotone t-shirts, flip-flops and khakis. Her hair is short, straight, and a very dark brown, nearly black. Her eyes and skin tone are also very dark.
History: Aileen was born and raised in the camp by her parents. She has two younger sisters, and grew up alongside Digby, who she's now good friends with.
Powers: Her body has an uncanny relation with light. It naturally grew upwards toward the sun as she aged, which made her body as abnormally tall as it is now. Her eyes and visual processing are superior to normal humans', and can see in clear detail from miles away (and her great height helps with that), even working as a living telescope and being able to look into space. Looking directly into the sun doesn't harm her. She can see in more frequencies of light than the "visual spectrum". She can see clearly in the dark and at night, and if underground or otherwise away from light, she can somehow "sense" where a nearby source may be, like a plant would.
However, because of her abnormal growth, her bones are weak and frail, and she can be toppled over and injured easily. It's not fun having to bump into doorways and ceilings all the time, either. She has the ability to photosynthesize, using light as an energy source instead of food. However, she generally has to use a combination of the two. Too little light will leave her fatigued, and too little food will leave her with malnutrition. The ability also gives her rapid regenerative abilities; with the many times she had injured herself due to her fragility, she had learned that sunlight made healing much faster.
Recently, in the past few months, she had developed a mild light manipulation ability. She can slightly bend and stretch light to a degree, but it's only useful for menial things, like taking light out of a small window in a relatively dark room to light up a book.

Salamander

Name: Viviana Lucas (likes to be called Vi)

Age: 20

Personality: She is the social and friendly type. She's nice to nearly everyone she meets and likes to help people. She wants to be there for others, even total strangers, but can be rather hard on herself when she fails to help someone or makes matters worse. She's a bit scatterbrained and forgetful, and can be quite a klutz at times. She also tends to like cheering people up with bad jokes and bad puns.

Appearance: She has short, chin-length dark brown hair that is all scruffy and messy, with long bangs that come down over her brown eyes. She has tan skin, and is about 5'2 in height. She has a petite, almost child-like figure, barely even looking like a teenager. She is rather skinny, and she appears flat-chested. She normally wears a simple t-shirt, and isn't picky about the color, but green is most common. She also wears blue jeans or denim shorts. While she owns a pair of white tennis shoes, she hardly ever wears them, preferring to go barefoot. She wears a green rubber band on her wrist.

History: Vi grew up outside the camp, but never stayed in one town for very long. Her family was always moving around, trying to avoid getting exposed. Usually, Vi would accidentally get caught using her powers, and her mother would use her telepathy to alter people's memories and make them forget about the event. Then she'd insist that the family move just in case she missed something. Vi didn't like having to constantly move around, as she wanted a permanent home. She also hated having to hide her powers, which often led to arguments with her mother. Her mother would purposely force her to live in cities, which she hated, in an attempt to keep her away from nature. Without a reliable nature source, Vi's powers were limited, which is what her mother wanted, but it made Vi miserable. Her father would always try to cheer her up by taking her on camping trips away from people, so that Vi could have fun and freely use her powers. However, her mother hated the trips, because she was afraid of Vi getting caught. She forbid them to go on any more, but when they tried to argue that it was fun and harmless, she used her telepathy to make them forget about the trips completely. When Vi turned 18, she had enough of living with her parents and set out on her own. She took nothing more than a backpack of necessities and just ran away. Vi hoped of one day finding the Outcast Camp. She had heard many nice stories about it from her dad and she had always wanted to see it for herself. Just recently, she moved in, and is still getting used to the place.

Powers: Substance mimicry. She has the ability to mimic any form of matter or energy with physical contact. She can duplicate the properties of anything she touches, gas, liquid, solid, even energy sources. This transformation also extends to her clothing and anything she might be carrying, like a backpack, which is specially made for her. So if she absorbed the properties of water, her whole body, and even her clothes, would become water. Then she has all the abilities of water, until she deactivates her power. She can also camouflage with the matter she absorbs, becoming effectively invisible. She can not absorb a new matter until she has deactivated her powers from the previous matter she absorbed.


ooc: I tweaked some things about Vi, nothing major.
Also, I may not be using Kayla this time, at least not for awhile. I may add her in later if needed, but as for right now, I don't really feel interested in using her. I mainly want to focus on Vi for right now.

@Cynder Accepted <3

@Waaksian I SAW THAT YOU FORGOT THE SALAMANDER AT FIRST, BUT ACCEPTED

I'd like to at least wait on Michael's character sheet, wylrin's still thinking about that. Also if there's anyone you think would be interested in this, let them know, i'd like to have as many people as we can get~

Name: Michael Foster

Age: 17

Personality: Michael is mostly an introverted person, though some aspects of him contradict this. He doesn’t express much emotion, his face usually having a solemn, serious expression. While he doesn’t like being around a lot of people, his greatest fear is being left alone. Thus, he tends to stay near someone else, and when he’s on his own, it’s in the Camp where he knows there are other people in the vicinity. Perhaps the most significant aspect of Michael’s personality is his silence. He is an elective mute, meaning that he never talks because he chooses not to. This makes things awkward when someone’s trying to have a conversation with him, but most people who know Michael have learned to have sort of “one sided conversations”. He will listen and acknowledge people who are talking to him, but he will never respond verbally.

Appearance: Michael has a pale complexion, as he tends to stay indoors. His eyes are a pale blue while his hair is scruffy and black. He stands at about 5”10 and is a bit skinny in form. As for his apparel, he wears khakis and a black turtleneck with a tan trench coat over top of that. He also tends to wear a black scarf and gloves, regardless of what the weather is like.

History: This will be revealed throughout the roleplay. I will say this, however: He doesn’t speak for a reason.

Powers:

Empathy (humans): Michael can sense the emotions that others are feeling. The closer the person, the stronger and more accurately he can pick up on their feelings. He can use his empathy as a sort of "radar", sensing where people are based on where he's picking up their emotions. In much rarer cases, he can see through the eyes of others, though he does this involuntarily and so far, it's only happened while he sleeps.

Empathy (objects): Michael can sense the emotional "imprint" people leave on objects. A treasured heirloom or a childhood toy will have strong feelings attached to it, and he can sense these feelings, as well as the connection between the object and its owner. Sometimes the emotions that are imbedded in an object can trigger short memories of the person interacting with that object, but this is rarer and happens involuntarily.

Empathic Healing: Michael is able to heal others by taking their wound and making it his own. For example, when empathically healing a cut on another person, that cut would disappear from their body and reappear on Michael's.


((OOC: I've changed Michael's powers a bit. His empathy is no longer "empathy" in the sense that he feels others' emotions as his own. In the past roleplays, Michael constantly having to deal with literally everyone's emotional baggage made it impossible for him to do anything but wallow in his own little purgatory, so I felt that this needed to be changed. Emotions still affect him to some degree, though it's more akin to seeing another person cry than actually crying that person's tears.))

In today's news; a week long cold-front in the southwestern-most acre has finally passed after a local resident with chilling powers had a violent cold and no more waiting in line for a seat at your favorite restaurant? A rumored new camp member who has the ability to make food, out of just about anything. In other news; Deidicus Blair, beloved founder of this camp and hero to us all is being honored today in the main square as a statue of his courageous and inspirational figure will be revealed today. Let's go on the scene with Dust Powers, Dust?

Thank you Vicki, if you look behind me you might recognize the large area that surrounds where I stand as the Main Square of Camp Outcast, what you won't recognize however, is the large covered statue of our founder: Sir Deidicus Blair. After many hours of planning and work, our effervescent camp will now be watched over by our most beloved hero molded completely out of gold mined from our incredibly eager mining corporation, we now have with us the head of that mining organization, Monty "Moleman" Grimes. Monty,
give us an idea of about just how much gold this is.

Well Dust, we've actually been planning this for quite some time and gold isn't all that easy to come by, we've had a lot of dangerous journey's to the outside world, some mine collapses, long hours and a lot of tears but after ten years we've finally managed to rummage up enough gold for our founder, now some may say it's excessive but I don't think so, after all, we owe our lives to this man, without him my mother would have perished in the cold after being run out of her home by angry townsfolk, and I wouldn't be standing before ya today.

Well thank you Monty, you heard it here folks we ha-What? Is that? Is that the Director? There, coming out of the City Hall! Mr. Director! Mr. Director! Do you have a few words for us about the statue!

I have some place to be if you'll excuse me.

Just a few words! Please Mr. Director! Just give us your thoughts on the statue!

.........Long overdue. Now if you'll excuse me.

Mr. Director! Mr. Directo-

*-Click-*

"Hm...Thanks, Gramps." He smirked. Digby jumped up and off the end of his bed, tossing the remote at his pillows for later use. The thud of his feet hitting the ground echoed in his tiny log cabin as he stretched out his arms from a long needed rest, he hadn't gotten a good sleep in months, of course that was due to his stubborn teenage hormones and his complete lack of wanting sleep when we could spend the nights playing video games and watching Netflix. Digby walked through the small dark oak door that led out of his room and into the main living space where Digby kept his brown leather couch and an abundance of snacks, mostly crumbs and mostly stale. With swagger he grabbed his jacket off its hanger and thrust it into the air, throwing his left arm through the jacket's sleeve as it came falling down, albeit it was the wrong sleeve on the wrong arm but he was proud nonetheless, he probably would've done a stupid fist pump into the air if anyone had been watching, ah what the hell, he did it anyways before opening the front door and closing it behind him, after putting his jacket on properly of course.

Digby inhaled deep. "Ahh." And exhaled. "Alright, Summer, let's not waste any more time." The young adult unzipped the top left pocket of his jacket, pulled out a toothpick, slipped it in his mouth, zipped the pocket back up, shoved his hands in his deep pockets and began his journey to the training grounds, today was gonna be the day he pulled off that full transformation, or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

-----

"Eighteen, Nineteen....Oh where's that last pesky dollar, oh! Here it is! Twenty. Thank you so much for your help Viridium."

"Please, Mrs. Nanhaven, call me Quake, I've been mowing your lawn for two years now and you're always still so formal." The tall muscular man gave a hearty chuckle that would have echoed for hours had he been in a boxed space. "And really, ten is enough, I don't think bread is getting any more expensive, I can handle the pay decrease."

"Oh nonsense, you know darn well you're going to spend that on a drink at the bar, I was young too, y'know! Please, take it, you deserve it for being so kind to me all these years." The sweet old lady was no more than five feet tall, slightly shaking as she stood in her doorway trying to persuade Quake into taking the money. She placed the twenty dollars in his large calloused hands and closed his fingers over it before giving his hand a firm pat. "And maybe think of investing in some gloves, dear, your hands have taken quite a beating."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nanhave-"

"Nancy! Now you're being too formal!"

"Thank you Nancy, have a good day."

Quake stretched his face wide into a large and welcoming smile before taking his leave and making his way down the path that led away from the old woman's house and onto the main road. It had been a fairly uneventful day, of course the day prior had some...Perks. He had met Michael, a young boy who seemed to take a liking to him and vice versa, and then there was Jet, which Quake most certainly had a bad feeling about, finally there was that girl....Viviana, Vi for short, or at least that's what she'd told him the previous day, and ever since then he couldn't get her image out of his head. It was so odd for someone like Quake to be caught up with a girl, especially because he was raised by women exclusively and never really thought about liking one, he just thought of women as people and not sexual or romantic desires of any kind. "Ah, Training, I must train, that will take my mind off of her...Now where did I....I don't know where I am...Great." In his trance Quake must have trailed off into a completely different sector of the camp, it was relatively easy finding your way around, you just sought out a bulletin board, found a bus number and checked it sector route and then waited by said bulletin board for said bus to arrive. Quake sighed and sat down at the bench by the bulletin board. "Good day so far."

Sitting on a bench near the Main Square, Michael sat with his gaze directed towards the covered statue. He sat far enough away as not to be engulfed by the crowds that were amassing near the base of the statue, but close enough so that he could see what was going on. In all honesty, he probably could have been able to tell what was going on from an even greater distance than this. The crowds' excitement and anticipation was easily distinguishable even from where the empath sat, which would no doubt turn to elation and cheer once the effigy was finally uncovered. The boy didn't pretend to know just when that would occur. In hindsight, he probably should have watched or listened to the news beforehand, but he would much rather be here than cooped up in his room. The others' excitement was like the pleasant feeling of the warm sun on his skin. It was a warm aura that radiated from the mass of people in the Main Square, and Michael was content to simply bask in such a glow of positive energy. The only thing that would make it better was if he could share the feeling with others.

That thought made him turn his gaze away from the statue, which instead turned to look off into the distance as he wondered just where his new acquaintances might be. He had taken a liking to the gentle giant, Quake, despite only having known the man for a short period of time. He wondered what the man was up to. Michael didn't claim to know enough about the man to guess what he was doing at this moment, though he supposed he might be training, as he had done yesterday with the empath as a silent spectator. It made him wonder whether he would feel the vibrations of the Earth from Quake's practicing, even here. He didn't pretend to know, though he supposed it was possible, given the raw power the man had demonstrated yesterday.

He yawned widely. Michael really wasn't a morning person, but today's excitement had him up early, the countless people's emotions twittering at him like birds once the sun rose above the horizon. There were scarcely more pleasant awakenings beyond that, he surmised. Settling comfortably on the bench, he closed his eyes as if to doze off, but he was merely losing himself in the pleasant sensation of the warm glow of others' emotions not far away.


Sitting on his bed was another, newer resident of the Outcast Camp. One might suppose that the boy's position on his bed insinuated that he was just getting up. Quite the contrary, actually. Arthur was an early riser, and instead of just now rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he was actually working on tuning his violin. It was hardly necessary, as this was something he did every morning and it was highly unlikely that the instrument would go out of tune in such a short time, but it was a ritual for the boy practically ingrained in his mind. He cared dearly for his instruments, so he took it upon himself to meticulously clean and tune them every morning. Besides, there was something comforting in the repetitive motions, something he's done so many times that it was practically instinct now. To be so fully concentrated on a task, yet one that required little to no thought, was surprisingly relaxing for him. It required enough attention that his mind did not wander to more dangerous thoughts, yet was simple enough to where he need not stress himself over new complexities. It was simple, yet quite effective, in both calming his nerves and preparing for a new day.

Gently setting the violin back in its case, he pushed his glasses back up from where they had slid down his nose. He had considered contact lenses once upon a time, but had quickly banished the idea after about five seconds of consideration. No way was he touching his eyeball. It may or may not have been simply a rather wimpy reaction of his, but Arthur felt it was quite justified. Touching your eyeball? Thanks, but no thanks. He would gladly take having to constantly adjust his glasses and clean them of any smudges that might accumulate over poking his eyes any day. The glasses might raise his geek status in the social heirarchy as well, but honestly, even if he didn't wear glasses, he'd still be everyone's favorite go-to punching bag.

He shook his head. No, that was, then. He was in a new place, could make a fresh start. The kids who hated his guts since Kindergarten weren't around anymore. Maybe the people here would be more tolerant of him. Heck, the term "outcast" was in this place's very name. Maybe he'd have better luck with a group of outcasts like himself than he ever would have had among normal people.

Still, the very thought of going out there and interacting with people sparked a tinge of nervousness in him. He wasn't... good at this sort of thing. But he'd be forced to interact eventually when school started, and he didn't like the thought of not recognizing anyone there. These last few days of summer were his chance to meet people on his own accord. At the very least, he could determine who he should avoid before meeting them face to face in an inescapable situation.

Sighing a bit shakily, he stood and stepped out into the outside world.

Salamander

Name: Rhin "Shadow" Fallen
Age: NA- Looks very young
Gender: Male
Physical Appearance: At a glance he seems nothing more than a reflection or an illusion of a person. This may be because he has no body, but despite all observations, he is in fact physical. He is tall and built like an athlete, with long raven black hair, tied with a ribbon of scarlet and emerald. His eyes are deep midnight blue and are calming, soothing, but distant. Dressed in a tattered shirt and jeans, he has the look of someone who survived something terrible.
Powers: Gravity. Able to form and control singularities. He is immune to his abilities, rather they are him.
Weaknesses: Possessing no actual body has no effect on his ability to feel pain, bleed, and all in all be hurt. His singularities very and once unleashed do not discern friend from foe and will remain until they burn out. His greatest weakness is making friends as people tend to avoid him or be afraid of his wraith-like appearance.
Personality: He is a compassionate, generous and loyal individual. Not much more is known about him due to how distant others are with him.
History: He is the unidentified victim of an unknown explosion, actually several small to medium ones to trigger one massive one, that injured more than one hundred people, but killed only one. Unknown by all but a few this was because of the selfless sacrifice, Rhin, made. Unable to escape after having his leg pinned by debris, he sealed the door, just seconds before the massive explosion occurred, sealing his fate but saving the others.

Earlier in the morning, Aileen had been idling by the doors of a local hardware shop, her posture loose and somewhat detached. Her parents were caught up in yet another conversation with fellow co-workers, and she was left to bar her two rambunctious little sisters from escaping and running amok in the marketplace. It was routine; Mom and Dad would run their rounds, picking up tools needed for the day and other miscellaneous items. Her sisters would come along to play with the ducklings in the pet store a door down while they shopped, and she was in charge of monitoring them and bringing them back by the allotted time.

Only, it almost always took thirty minutes before they were actually ready to leave. While her parents were chatting away, the uncannily tall teenager would occasionally lift her bangs up to glare meaningfully at her sisters whenever they fiddled or touched something she didn't approve of. They hardly gave her a look back, but thankfully, they usually didn't step too far out of line.


Some time before Digby stepped outside, only one member of the Olan family had returned home. Her parents now at work and her sisters in daycare, Aileen was sitting on the lawn swing of their porch. The position looked a little awkward, comical even, due to the great length of her legs, her similarly long arms draped loosely over them. Her head was turned away, gazing at something distant, until she caught sight of her friend walking into her peripheral vision. To anyone else, he would have been just a dot in the far background, but the details of his figure were sharp and clear to her unnatural eyes.

Curious as to what he was up to this day, she rose to her full height-- barely below the frame of the canopy-- and took her usual long, wide strides towards him. She had an idea, but thought it would be best to ask. When she finally caught up, which didn't take long, she asked, in her typical low monotone, "Where are you headed today?"

Salamander
This looks cool, so I'll join

Name:Boris Richards
Age:16
Gender: Male
Physical Apperance: He is a short, white male, (around the size of Toby Jones, if you now who he is), who has thick blonde hair. He usually wears a shirt with Jurrassic World on it. He also wears a purple tie with White stripes on it. He is pretty strong and keeps in shape. He also wears sweat pants. His eyes are purple, which signifies his Outcast-ness. He also has this scar that goes from the top-right of his face, to the bottom left.
Ability:His powers are strange, he is able to bring, normally inanimate objects to life. With this power he controls their every action and movment.
Weakness: His ability requires him to completly focus on the object he is making come to life. Meaning he can't focus on anything else, or his powers will pretty much become usless. He also can only control 1 thing at a time. And his powers are limited, for example, he can't just make a plank of wood levitate, or make a teddy bear hold back a missle.
Personality:He is a kind and outgoing soul. Who is willing to fight for his friends and loved ones, even if it means he'll die himself. He really likes animals, and will fight anybody willing to hurt one. and even has a pet Sloth named Buddy. He also secretly has a human friend named Regis, whom visits him constantly, but he does tell him that the camp is normal.
History:Boris had an abusive father, his mother died when he was 4 of terminal cancer, so his father abused him, and abused him. Until one day, Boris had enough, using his powers to control a knife-welding toy, Boris threatend his dad to let him go, so he did. He ran away, and his father has been looking for him ever since. Boris ran into the forest for protection, where he learned a little bit more about his powers, and where he also met Buddy.

Also just a quick question, can our characters die here, because my character is willing to do that if he can save his friends.

// Wyrstel accepted
Cipher it's completely up to you how long they've been there
King pen I hate making people have to change stuff but in the rules it says to not have similar abilities, your character is just Digby but stronger and with more abilities, also I don't think a sixteen year old would have the mental capacity to kill a ton of people and make himself judge and jury especially without getting caught or having his identity found out, plus the camp does psych evals and background checks, and of he was a murderer at 16 and at the camp he'd be in the rehabilitation chamber//

Sorry I haven't posted again! I'll do that later on today

Quote: Lunarz

// Wyrstel accepted
Cipher it's completely up to you how long they've been there
King pen I hate making people have to change stuff but in the rules it says to not have similar abilities, your character is just Digby but stronger and with more abilities, also I don't think a sixteen year old would have the mental capacity to kill a ton of people and make himself judge and jury especially without getting caught or having his identity found out, plus the camp does psych evals and background checks, and of he was a murderer at 16 and at the camp he'd be in the rehabilitation chamber//

Sorry I haven't posted again! I'll do that later on today

Oh sorry, didn't know about Digby's ability,
Didn't know about the psych evals either

//accepted

and I guess characters can die but that wouldn't happen for a while//

((OOC: Thanks. In that case, I think it'd be best for me to start from the beginning and make him be pretty new. I'm also planning a second character - as I like having at least two - but I'll start RPing and post the new character when I finish them))

Salem was still unsure about this place, this camp as it was called. Part of him was inwardly happy such a place existed, that there was somewhere he could live without having to worry about his powers being considered strange or dangerous. Yet there was another part of him that had the feeling this would somehow go completely downhill. This side of him, it hissed that this place was too good to be true, that it was all just a hoax to lure him into a false sense of security. He quickly shook his head as these thoughts rapidly flowed into his mind, attempting to banish them as quickly as possible. This was no time to be thinking negatively, to be having an argument internally, and he knew it. He knew this would just make things worse for him. He reminded himself to consider other things, to not fret over the negative.

What should I be doing, then? He wondered this to distract himself from his prior troubles. This place was still confusing to him, and he hadn't really done much of anything since he arrived. He wandered nearer and nearer the Main Square as he thought. Nobody seemed to have noticed him yet, although it was likely because he hadn't made much of an effort to meet and greet people. He sort of wanted to remedy that, but hadn't gotten a good chance to get to know what kind of people lived in this place. He lifted his head, the excitement from the approaching Main Square becoming audible as he drew closer. There was instantly a part of him that was curious, and that curiosity was soon warned to be wary by a far more cautious side of his mind. He warned himself not to move at things too quickly and learn what this place was about before becoming fully lax in it. Nonetheless, this excitement seemed like a fair distraction. What better way to get your mind off all your worries and cares then to observe something mostly unrelated? Interested now, he began making his way towards the sound of people, walking slightly more quickly down the direct middle of the path. It wasn't long before a huge crowd came into his line of sight

That's where he came to an abrupt halt. There was absolutely no way he was merging into a crowd like that. So many people he didn't know. So many people he had no idea if he could trust. He was truly curious about what they were surrounding and cheering over, but not enough to join the crowd. He hazarded a chance to move closer, though. Salem placed his hands upon a lone park bench and leaned over the backside of it. Then, his mind silenced for a few moments. He stared upon the crowd, watching them almost howl in excitement, and found he had nothing to really consider at the moment. There was a slight tinge of worry hovering in the back of him mind, but otherwise, he was content simply just to watch these people.

Beneath the shade of a tall tree, on the path toward the training grounds, I watch all that come and go. It is nice to see someone has friends. My wraith-like appearance frightens people away, even though I am far from it. My deep, dark midnight blue eyes sparkle in the darkness. Having no actual body of my own, I seem no more than a reflection or illusion to the eye, but I am in fact real. No one knows why I have been given this chance to live forever as a wraith-like being to protect the world from evil. All I remember is a series of small explosions in the facility that I was working in and people running for their lives, me included. Then I remember something falling and crushing my legs, trapping me in the room. As I see signs of the final explosion about to happen, I seal the doors of room using the still functioning door control panel, and then seconds after the doors close, all goes dark. Next thing, I know, I am alone in the remains of a room in a facility with the main doors sealed, but the ceiling and walls are completely destroyed. Stepping out of the destroyed place that was my life's work for so long, I wander the world, until I find the one place that I feel I may at least be able to call home, The Camp. Other than that I don't remember anything else. People say that unknowingly I caused much destruction during my travels, but I don't have recollection of any of it. All I know is people avoid me, either out of fear or something else. If I ever returned to the outside world, I would most likely be imprisoned in a special chamber made by the government to house something like me, and live there until, someone freed me from their clutches. No, I would never return there unless, I had no choice, no this is my home now. I just want to make some friends here, perhaps something more if that is possible for someone like me.

Boris walked up to the entrance of this place. The cool wind blowing on his shoulders. Making him slightly shiver. He looks down at the ground and sees a total of 12 twigs. Small and large, he decided to test if his powers worked still. He took his attention to the biggest stick, paying attention only to it, he knew if he took his full focus of this stick, he could move it, and he knew that if he could move it, he could focus on it's tasks. He focused and focused, to the the point he forgot he was even in front of the camp in the first place. He was able to get the stick to start bending. He eventually able to bend it to the point where it didn't snap. He then focused on what he wanted the stick to do. "Take a step," Boris said in his head. And the stick slowly lifted on of it's end points, and lowered in, and moved forward. "Now, keep walking until you get through that gate." Boris said in his head. The stick continued it's motion, right, left, right, left, right, left. Until it wandered through the gate. Boris thought this was a job well done, and let his mind relax. Slowly, the stick started to unbend, and eventually, it became as lifeless as it was before. Boris took a look up at the giant wooden sign. It said Outcast Camp, the sign was old, very old. It had moss on it, which was new, and the brown of woods appeared more grey-ish in some places. "Doesn't make sense," Boris thought. Boris then wondered if he could move the signpost, but he decided against it. Boris took a deep breath, and walked in. This was it, his new home. 13 years of abuse, 3 years of hiding, with Buddy on his shoulder, who was slowly making his way up Boris' arm. Boris knew, this was the start of a new life for him.

(OOC: This is probably the last question I will ask for a while, but, what happens if the humans find out about the camp, I mean, it probably won't happen, but if it did, what would they do?)

Viviana had caught part of the news, before deciding to turn it off to greet the day. She gave an amused grin at the ice pun that had been mentioned, and made a mental note to watch the news more often. That new camp member sounded interesting, especially that handy little power. Vi licked her mouth at the idea of being able to create food out of nearly anything. Although she figured she would likely be about as big as a house if she had an ability like that. While it sounded incredibly useful, she decided that she wouldn't trade her powers for anything, even if she could.

It was the mention of the statue being revealed that really caught her attention. Now that sounded amazing, to have a statue made in your honor, completely made out of gold. What a dedication to make, but it was well deserved, she thought. After all, the founder did make this camp for everyone to have a safe place to live. Vi decided that she wanted to see this statue with her own eyes, so eager to do so, she turned off the TV and hurried out the door. She swung it wide open and hopped outside, almost too excited to even remember to close the door.

Once outside, Vi pulled on her rubber band and let it snap against her wrist. Within seconds, the green material appeared to stretch itself onto her arm and spread across her body. It didn't take long for her entire form to be completely made of rubber. With a grin, Vi jumped up into the air as high as she could. Before she could hit the ground, she twisted her legs into a spring shape. She bounced and launched herself forward. With merry laughter, Vi hopped towards the Main Square of the camp.

Anyone else might have simply walked, rode a bike, or taken the bus, but Vi wasn't interested in doing so. She had lived most of her life without being able to use her powers freely, so now that she finally had the chance to, she wasn't going to waste a moment of it. It was too much fun to find new, creative ways of getting around to simply ride the bus everywhere. Vi figured she would never take the bus anywhere. She didn't even care if she repeatedly got lost, she was going to enjoy the journey, and she was going to love living here.

The place, it was interesting. Just as he had heard. Boris wandered through the camp, the somewhat heavy wind was now calm. The place was full of the wooden camp houses, worn away with age. "They're gonna have to get some new ones," Boris said to himself. Around him, he saw kids, and people wandering around the camps. Friends talking, people learning. Normal stuff. Buddy was slowly climbing up on top of Boris' head now. He stood for a bit, waiting to see if anybody would come to him, and tell him what to do. But no one said anything. Boris sat on the edge of a table, waiting, waiting, and waiting.

But no one came, a feeling which he felt, he would feel later too.

//Humans who are invited can see it, there are people at the front gate that can determine outcasts from humans ala telepathy or future see-ers and the like and can choose to lift the perception filter for them, humans are only ever let in by higher ups and are therefore expected, however if any rogue humans were to find it, we'll figure that out if and when it comes to that. But normally they wouldn't be able to see it, basically you can't see the camp unless you're searching for it so even if it's in front of you, you wouldn't see it if you were human and not looking in that exact place. for example if you were looking for it and stumbled upon it you still wouldn't see it, you'd need to know its location and focus on it exclusively. It's confusing.
Also it's my fault for not explaining how the camp looks but it's like its own little state, filled with a city, suburbs, forests, lakes, country etc etc etc. The main square is in the city.
Not everyone strictly lives in cabins, ie if you live in the city but it's more expensive. whereas the cabins are generally free for the most part, not all the cabins are worn but some are. Also for further reference the entrance to the camp is two large wooden doors, with at least always two guards on duty so you can't easily walk in, they need to be opened for you. Once again, my fault for not explaining. Also since I'm explaining stuff the camp is actually called Camp Outcast and not Outcast Camp. Okay glad I cleared these things up ahhh and sorry I've been absent.//

Normally calm and collected, at least seemingly so to those that observed or knew him, a tinge of annoyance filled Quake. It was his own fault really for not paying much attention to details the past day, which was genuinely odd for the large man as he'd been trained to be over-the-top observant at all times, but he couldn't help it, since the previous day so much had been on his mind: the boy, Michael, and the girl, Vi, or at least that was part of it, the truth was he'd been caught up with emotions the past few weeks, it was nearly his sister, Tabitha's, birthday and dozens of feelings rushed through his head distracting and even crippling him at times, all these factors adding up to why Quake had completely forgotten about the big statue reveal, and even though the iron clad man had only been at the camp for under two years, he had a great amount of respect for its founder and all he stood for, for if such a place hadn't existed Quake would have been on his own, he would have been alone and afraid instead of how he felt now, which was akin to that of being wrapped up in a cozy comforting blanket of security and contentment, well as content as Quake could be in his depressed state.

Shaking off the thought of his sister which slowly and sneakily tried to creep its way into his mind, he took a stand from the oak bench he sat upon as the bus he so desperately waited for came over the horizon, its red and blue painted coat twinkling in the bright sunlight which also happened to create an array of beautiful and rainbow-eqsue colors from the reflection that bounced off of the mirror at the bus's side. The bus came to a halt, the hiss of the tires filled Quake's ears with joy for it meant he was on his way to the Main Square, and the reason for Quake's happiness was that for once he was actually doing something he wanted to do for fun instead of training or completing tasks off the bulletin board to take his mind off of his unique predicament. As the doors shot open several people descended the stairs and onto the lush grass that lay between the bus and the oak bench, eager but patient, Quake waited until the last person got off before placing his large brown boot on the bottom stair and continuing up until he was face to face with the driver. "You're going to sector 8-J, correct?" The driver replied back with a simply nod and a matter of factually 'Mhm' before pulling the lever which shut the doors to the large vehicle. Quake gave a slight smile to the man and walked to the first empty seat he could find which just so happened to be near the middle of the bus next to a young girl with long black hair and purple eyes. "Off to see the statue?" The girl took out the earbuds that resided inside of her ears before responding. "If the bus gets there fast enough." Quake paused for a moment and decided to look out towards the window opposite of his so as to avoid any awkward eye contact with the girl and with a sigh the bus began to move.

It took a fair amount of time before the vehicle met its destination of sector 8-J but Quake didn't mind too much, what he did mind was the crying baby on the back of the bus, Quake had been overly irritable lately, grumpy in fact, but he tried not to let it show as he didn't want to put others down, instead he put on a smile and went on with his day, choosing to fake his emotions rather than show them for fear of them interfering with others states of mind or his training, but it didn't matter because he was finally where he wanted to be, just outside of the Main Square where hundreds if not thousands or Outcasts gathered to watch the unveiling. Hastily Quake made his descent from the bus and stretched out his arms and legs shortly after touching the ground. Maybe she'll be here...Ah, don't be so ridiculous, you barely know the girl, calm down. Quake took a deep breath in and let it out slowly before making his way towards the Square; nervous, anxious, depressed and excited all at once.

-----

Anyone else would have flinched at the sight of the gargantuan teen, but not Digby, he was far too used to her since he'd known the girl since she was tinier than 3 feet tall and liked to put anything she could find in her mouth. "Eh..." He groaned to himself. "I was going to hit the training grounds, try a full on transformation...It's been years and I still can't do it, and even then I can't switch from one partial transformation to another without extreme focus and a fair amount of time, I'm starting to think I'll never do it..." In reality the reason Digby was so upset about his transformations was because his Great Grandpa Deidicus, the camp founder, had the exact same ability, only he was a living legend, capable of using his powers to their fullest potential by only 17 years of age, and here was Digby, basically an adult and incapable of even flying with the wings he could sprout. He felt that if he stood upon that statue while the way he was now, he'd let his grandfather down, he'd feel shame shining down from his sparkling golden eyes, Digby only hoped that Aileen wouldn't catch on, but knowing how well she knew him he knew that she'd see right through him.

OOC: Ok thanks for claryifying

I guess I'm in the forest section of this camp

//oh also i guess it makes sense for their to be multiple entrances since it's so big so, yea.
It seems everyone is going to the main square, so maybe your character could see people there and follow or something, I just don't want your character to be all alone!
That or I can have someone come and show him to his cabin etc, log him into the database and whatnot, it's up to you cuz he'll need to have that done eventually. I like how descriptive you are! Glad you joined~//

OOC: Ok, I'll try to get to main square

I'll post my next post when I get home from school, so


Around 3:35 probably(Because my sister takes forever to get out)

From her height, Aileen got a clearer view of the top of Digby's head than his face, but she could easily recognize his body language and demeanor. He got like this a lot. "Everyone learns at their own pace," she replied, her tone the faintest bit softer than usual. "Some people develop their abilities quicker, and some don't reach their full potential until past their youth. Remember Mr. Wallace? He could hardly lift his own weight until he was forty-five, and now he's carrying twenty-foot poles at seventy--" She realized that this could have been taken the wrong way and attempted to backtrack. "I mean, he didn't show any abilities until he was older, but you've had your abilities for a while now. You'll probably get there sooner than you think."

OOC: Oops, forgot to post, I shall continue

Sitting on a picnic bench, which seemed, surprisingly new, considering the state of the place. He sat, and waited. until he heard two older people having a conversation. They seemed to work here, one was tall and lanky, while the other one was normal size. The tall one had blonde hair and was wearing a black shirt and blue jeans, along with brown shoes that looked like they would be used for tap-dancing. While the other one had black hair, and seemed to be a bit more goth-like, with a ring in his nose and having ear rings, all where silver, he had a grey sweater and grey sweatpants with dark black stripes. His shoes where dark black sneakers, with bats on the side of them. Boris overheard them, "So, what do you think," The goth one said, he appeared to have been here before, and despite his looks, he appeared happy. "Huh, it's weird, it's kind of like it's own continent," the other one said. "I heard the main square is amazing." "Oh, it is," The goth on said, "Come on, let's go," They proceeded to walk towards the woods. "A Main Square huh," Boris said to himself. Boris decided he would follow them, he focused all of his attention on getting the picnic table to move. Eventually, he was able to move it, and in his head he said, "Now, follow those two people." The picnic table then began walking in a cartoon-ish way. As they wandered, Boris almost forgot about Buddy, who was soundly sleeping.

OOC: Also BTW, forgot to mention this, but I'm using the school's chromebook, and I can't use any of the other computers, so, from June 2nd(I believe) to Sometime in September I will be gone, because we can't keep the chromebooks over the summer. So I'll probably have some sort of hiatus from this. Like I leave the camo for a few months until I return, is that okay?

//Sorry things aren't going very fast, wylrin is busy and I assume so is cynder and I procrastinate a lot, I'm sure things will start to move faster in the next few weeks.//

Digby shrugged at Aileen's attempt to console him, maybe she was right and he just needed to be patient, unfortunately that wasn't one of his strong suits. "Maybe we should just go to the statue thing, I mean, I didn't even know the guy why would he be disappointed in me I'm just being crazy." Digby took off his cap and ran his fingers through his messy brown hair. "Maybe you can put me on your shoulders so i can get a better view when we get there." Digby liked to dismiss emotions with humor and sarcasm, he didn't like being all mushy and weepy, instead he'd rather be calm and cool, after all the summer was almost over and he didn't want to spend it half way into a tub of ice cream while wrapped around a blanket and watching sad movies.

Boris wandered through the woods, well, he wasn't wandering, the picnic table was. But something was weird about this. Even though he couldn't see the two people, the table knew exactly where it was going. So, how did it know, and why. It was so strange, could the things it posses have a mind of his own? No, impossible, but it was still going. And going

OOC: Sometime soon, my chromebook is gonna be gone,but don't worry, I will change my password and right it down so I can acess Darkspyro over the summer.

After making a few stops to check and make sure she was heading the right way, Viviana finally made it to the Main Square. She couldn't help but grin with excitement. While she normally didn't like cities, this was an exception. At least she could freely use her powers here. However, the large crowds, combined with her short height, made it nearly impossible to see past anyone. It was unlikely she would see the statue at all this way. What Vi needed was a higher vantage point. She considered repeatedly bouncing in her rubber form, but that seemed tedious, and ineffective for getting a good consistent view of the statue.

Looking around, Vi searched for something tall she could sit on. She figured a stranger was out of the question. However, a lamppost might work. She hopped over to one and looked up at it with a smile. That should work nicely. She stood under the pole and used her rubber form to jump up to it. However, instead of grabbing the pole as planned, she ended up hitting her head on it and falling back down to the ground. Thankfully, she couldn't feel the pain from that in her rubber form, but she wasn't looking forward to getting hit by it whenever she deactivated her powers.

Vi decided to try again, and hopefully succeed this time. She jumped up and raised her arms to grab the pole before she could hit her head again. Having been successful, it was time for the next step. She began to swing and continued to gain momentum until she could bring her feet up to rest on the pole. Still holding on with her hands, she stretched her rubber feet until she could wrap them around the pole for additional support. Satisfied with her crouched position on the pole, Vi looked ahead to see the covered statue. There was no one to block her view of it now.

"I can't act like I know him," Aileen began, matter-of-factually, "but I'm sure he'd be proud of you regardless. You're still trying, even when progress is slow. You'd be surprised at how many people simply give up until they hit a breakthrough. And some never do, because they quit practicing."

She gave a lighthearted scoff. "Ha, you wish." Had the lanky teen not have been as fragile as a sapling, she would have made no hesitation to pick Digby up and set him on his shoulders. Unfortunately, not everyone in the camp was graced with physical prowess. "Maybe I'll just relay the details to you and you wouldn't have to even bother looking."

It was pleasant just sitting like this, basking in the energy being emitted by the eager and excited crowd in the Main Square. Had their happiness not been so energized, Michael supposed that he could have very easily been put to sleep by it, not unlike having a purring cat cuddled up on your lap. As it was, their excitement was like a static charge keeping him from dozing off. Even if it hadn't been, he doubted he would have missed the shadow being cast over him right now. It wasn't a metaphorical shadow, one of negative energy or foreboding. No, it was a literal shadow, not one that blocked out the glow of emotion radiating from the crowd, but one that blocked the warm sunlight from reaching him. At first, he thought that perhaps it was a cloud and, worrying about the possibility of rain spoiling this happy occasion, he opened his eyes to check on the sky.

There were no clouds. There was, however, a young man standing over him, who was no doubt the very thing blocking the sunlight from reaching him. For one fleeting moment, the empath thought that perhaps he was taking up too much of the bench and should scoot over to make room for him, but it didn't seem like the man intended to sit. Indeed, it seemed as though the man didn't notice his presence at all. The boy saw that he was looking in the direction of the mass of people crowded beneath the statue. Michael wasn't sure if it was the look on the man's face or simply his own empathic intuition, but he seemed to possess a sort of mix of curiosity and perhaps a bit of... was it apprehension? He couldn't tell for sure. If it was a wariness of joining the crowd he was detecting, then the empath could certainly relate. Not unlike basking in the sun, simply letting the waves of emotion from these people wash over him from a distance was pleasant, but he had no desire to join the crowd itself, as one obviously would not want to get any closer to the sun. The excitement of these people was not enough to overwhelm him - and really, being overwhelmed with such a positive emotion would not be such a bad thing - should he join the crowd, but he preferred to keep himself distanced, all the same.

Turning his attention back to the man standing above him, Michael fixed his more slouched posture and straightened himself into a more proper sitting position. Scooting over to one side of the bench and looking up at him rather owlishly, the boy patted the free space on the bench loudly enough to catch his attention. It wasn't a demand, but an offer. He shouldn't have to stand there if he could sit just as easily, but he had no obligation to if he didn't want to join him.


This was a stupid idea, Arthur had decided not long after stepping out the door to his little cabin. Why he had thought he could just step outside and find people he was eventually going to be going to school with was beyond him. This place wasn't like back home, which had been a tiny village with not even a thousand kids in the K-12 school. This place was practically its own little city-state, with its own metropolis in the center, then suburbs, then rural areas extending from that. He couldn't possibly guess just how many people lived here, or even how long it would take to go from one end of the city to the other, once he reached the actual city. He'd grown up in a place where everyone pretty much knew everyone else, there had been that few people. It was such a small little community that you could just walk anywhere you needed to go. The only time people had to drive their cars was when they were going outside of the village, or when it was too cold or too snowy to comfortably walk from place to place. So the entirety and the extensiveness of Camp Outcast was both completely foreign and a bit intimidating to him.

He sighed, wondering if he should just go back and resign to figuring out who he'd need to avoid in the hallways once school actually started. It would be pointless just wandering around the bustling city trying to make sense out of whatever glimpse he managed to catch of something in the chaos. Decided, he headed away from the city, towards what looked like a patch of woods. Arthur wasn't really an outdoorsy kind of person. He hated the bugs that always seemed intent on swarming or stinging him, he always managed to trip over tree roots protruding from the ground, and briars or thorn bushes seemed to like grabbing him out of nowhere and snagging his shirt or pant legs. So why was he going towards it? He could always just head back to his cabin and practice his music, which seemed like the far more preferable option to him. Still, he felt an obligation to make some sort of sense of his new surroundings, and exploring the woods seemed far more appealing than getting trampled over by a bunch of crowds in the city. Besides, if there were people in the woods, there'd be far fewer of them, which for Arthur, was always a good thing. Looking down at his dress shirt - and habitually adjusting his bowtie as he did so - he thought to himself that he really should have chosen something else to wear for navigating the woods.

"O weh," he sighed, mentally chiding himself for always dressing so formally regardless of the occasion as he stepped into the woodland. Not that he had intended to go roaming about in the woods when he had gotten dressed early this morning, but that was besides the point.


((OOC: I tweaked some things in Arthur's appearance section, mostly his apparel (because he's such a dork). I also elaborated on Michael's empathic healing in his character sheet.))

((OOC: Sorry guys. I've been really busy as of late setting up my new computer, making sure it works, and logging back onto all my sites.))

Salem had been highly focused on the crowd ahead, eyes locked on them as his thoughts took him over. He hadn't even considered that someone could be nearby, his mind so focused on thinking about the large gathering of people that he had never observed the bench itself, never looked for an occupant. It took him a moment to realize that someone was nearby and that they had noticed him. He glanced downwards, eyes quietly scanning over the figure of the male sitting below him. He spent a short while thinking about this person, why they were sitting alone in this bench, why they were looking at him in the manner they did. His face betrayed little besides curiosity, but his mind itself was so much more alive. Was this person thinking good or bad things in relation to him? Did they think he looked like a friendly face? Salem had never considered when he might first meet someone eye to eye, and now that he had, he was uncertain of what to do. So he stared. His eyes locked on to the male's figure and held that grasp firmly. Should be say something or would it be better to wait for the other to speak? He was always uncertain about his interactions with others, and it was within his nature to take things slowly. Usually, he would've observed this person first, but there was little time for that. Well, he could continue to stare, but it would likely begin to make the other uncomfortable.

Then, the male patted the bench beside him. Salem glanced downwards, looking upon the empty space of the bench. It was clear that he was being invited to sit down, and thus far it seemed this person was nice enough. Still, he didn't rush to take a seat. He remained where he stood for a short amount of time, simply staring at the bench, considering his next course of action. After several moments of staring at the bench, he lifted his head once more, staring into the eyes of the male. He wished he could get a little better read on the stranger, what kind of person he was. Yet, this proved difficult. Learning a person took quite a bit of time, and this was unavailable to him at this moment. It couldn't hurt to sit next to him though. After all, there was no guarantee a conversation would even happen, and if it did, and it went awry, there was always the choice to simply stand back up and walk away. So he slipped around to the front of the bench, and nestled himself into the empty space, placing his hands quietly upon his lap. He lowered his eyes to the ground, waiting quietly to see if the boy would make any attempt to speak to him or not.

yeeehaaaw

It's back

Gonna wait and see what the reserved is before mentioning Boris's next move

Quake scanned around the largely crowded area, there was nothing but a sea of people that could be seen stretching out all the way to the horizon, as if the sky itself was being enveloped by a cumulative orgy of eager and excessively loud people. He observed his surroundings, checking for an empty seat, but to no avail, in fact a lot of people, due to the size limitations of the main town square, had to group together in large crowds stretching back a great distance, which was why multiple dozens of televisions had been rigged to lampposts and the uncovering was streamed for free to anyone with a smartphone or a laptop. Quake, despite not seeing a viable seat in sight, felt no worries however, especially considering his large stature would lay way to him being intimidating enough to push his way through the crowds in search of a suitable spot to at least stand and watch. The thought popped into his head that maybe he'd see Michael or Vi or one of the locals at the bar he frequented who would maybe share with him some company, but he felt the odds of that happening in a crowd this large was like finding hay in a needle stack.

A loud screeching noise emitted from the various speakers strung throughout the square.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

a tapping noise

"Hello? Ah! Hello-o-o-o-oh....." The voice echoed "Welcome-come-come-come to the Grand Ceremony of the Decade-in-the-Making Statue Unveiling of our beloved Camp Founder: Deidicus Blair-air-air-air!"

A cheer throughout the crowd bellowed, quickly evolving into an uproar of woops and hollers.

"Everyone! In just three minutes the statue will be uncovered! Followed by a banquet of food spread throughout all sectors of the Camp! Please feel free to mingle and take in the sun! I'll be catching up with you soon for the Grand Unveiling!"

-----

"Well I guess you're ri-AH ****" The sound of the incredulously loud speaker hit Digby's ears like an unstoppable locomotive, it was as if the person speaking were right next to him trying to blow him over with powerful sound waves, which for the record, nearly happened. "Ah ****, we're gonna be late for the statue and I don't think we'll be able to catch a bus in time, I was planning on training but there's no way I'm passing up that free food." Digby looked down and held out one of his legs, shaking it a bit before letting out a small 'I've got it' chuckle. Slowly his body began to change, his legs morphing, changing, his jeans seemed to meld into his flesh as an arrival of yellow, spotted fur sprouted from his shape changing legs, the teen fell onto his hands, the grass staining his palms as his arms began to grow skinnier and...ahem, furrier, until his arms and legs resembled that of a cheetahs. It was a gross horrifying amalgamation of a creature due to Digby's inability to fully change. "What are you waiting for? Get on, we're gonna be late."

//Sorry for the insanely short post but im back i guess so//

Aileen flinched slightly, as the nearest microphone was close enough for the noise to be somewhat startling. Only somewhat, however. She stared at Digby with narrow, unamused eyes, until he quickly recovered from his shock. Her gaze then became neutral, although faintly calculating, as he began his transformation.

It seemed that with each passing season, he grew quicker and more efficient at shapeshifting. His body followed his intent, and did so at a much more rapid pace than it had in the past. Her friend really was making steady improvements. She wished he could see more of that, instead of focusing on the fact that he had yet to pull off a complete transformation.

Digby's words pulled Aileen out of her thoughts, and she wordlessly sat on his back, pulling her legs up to her and grasping his sides. It was an utmost bizarre sight to take in: a girl with frighteningly exaggerated appendages, perched on top of a boy with the legs of an animal on all fours.

Standing up and positioning myself in a way that I can be seen, a wraith-like form appears. I watch them in silence as they look me over. Even in my position, I can be easily mistaken for a reflection or illusion. The only real way to be sure that I am real, is for someone to gather the courage and make physical contact with me. Or they could attack me. My look however makes it difficult, for others to approach me.

*reserved*

//the rp isnt dead hi//

It took Digby a measly two minutes on his newly developed Cheetah legs to race his way to the Main Square, Aileen on back, and despite the short amount of time spent in a transformation, Digby was already feeling weak, his legs began to shift, losing their furry appearance and become white flesh, thankfully his clothes maintained their full appearance due to their handy stretching capabilities. Unfortunately for Aileen, as Digby was forced to transform back, she was forced off his back and was thrown to the grown, softly, but still potentially slightly embarrassing. "Oh, uh, sorry about that." Digby's attention was then turned to the stage, the announcer stood upon it once more, apparently ready to begin the ceremony.

------

As Quake carefully scanned the area once more for a seat, he almost miraculously was able to spot a familiar figure, and not Vi, despite her being up so high, but Michael, sitting on a bench with another young man. He made his way through the treacherous sea of people, some friendly, others mean, screaming and shoving Quake to get out of the way, fortunately for him he was like a five tonne bus to these people and could barely even tell anyone was trying to shove him, and if he had been shoved over he probably could potentially hurt a lot of people, despite not even being in his armor. "Michael!" He offered a friendly holler and made his way over, his large loud almost abrasive footsteps rumbling, which had he been in his armor could have caused a tidal wave of people flooding through the streets like drenching rain. "Ah, Michael, nice to see you here. I do hope you are doing well?" His inquiry couldn't be answered however as the man on stage began to speak.

----

The man, who stood at 5'7' and wore a beige tweed suit and a red bow tie on a white dress shirt, tapped the mic once more resulting in a second deafening screech, to which the entire crowd of meaning cringed and flinched like when someone would scratch their nails on a chalkboard.

LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND LARGE BALLS OF SLIME ALIKE, I WELCOME YOU. I'M SURE YOU'VE ALL BEEN IMPATIENTLY WAITING THE REVEAL OF THIS GOLDEN STATUE!

The audience cheered, even louder than before; but that could have been due to the fact they could barely hear from the ringing in their ears that the microphone had caused.

WELL NO MORE WAITING. COUNT DOWN WITH ME FOLKS! TEN. NINE. EIGHT. SEVEN. SIX. FIVE. FOUR. THREE. TWO. ONNNNNEEEE.

As the man screamed one, the audience screamed, but not in excitement, not in happiness, not in joy. In terror. The golden statue that had been promise had somehow been replaced with a wire frame of the director, very sloppily done in fact, but that wasn't what the screams were about. Encompassed by the wire frame, lying in the middle on the stage, a man. But not any man. A dead man. Shriveled up like a raisin, his facial features were so sucked in that one could see the imprint of his skull, a look of horror accompanied the mans face. Security and Officers from the crowd rushed up to the stage, people whipping out camera's, some fainting, some screaming, others trying to shove their way to see the dead body whose clothes were even too big for the drained man and were worn so loosely that one could see hundreds of maggots crawling out.

PEOPLE PLEASE CALM DOWN THIS IS...THIS..THIS IS ALL PART OF THE SHOW WE....WE MUST.. A man grabbed the Microphone, he wear sunglasses and had an army haircut in brown atop his head. Chewing a piece of bubblegum, an earpiece in his ear and a white uniform on his body. Everyone, My name is Captain Ray Long. There has been a murder. You will all be questioned. No exceptions. We are sealing the perimeter, many of you will be led to multiple precincts in the different zones of the camps, others will be kept here for questioning. Rest assured if the murderer is out there... He addressed the cameras, almost as if he knew what had happened and who had done it and he was speaking to him Directly. "We WILL catch you."

-----

A dark shadowy figure sat in a large elegant burgundy chair rimmed with gold, pure gold. A glass of red wine in one hand and remote in the other. A TV in front of the man on a desk as he listened to the Detective speak. A small chuckle came out of the man's mouth. "I bet you will." He shut off the television, drank the wine, and crushed the glass in his now metal hand, the shards falling to the floor. "I bet you will..."

Michael smiled softly at Salem, who seemed to possess about the same inclination to talk as he himself did. He didn't have much time to get acquainted with the man who now sat with him on the bench, however, for he heard Quake call his name from the sea of people beyond. Lifting his head, the boy nodded to Quake as his way of greeting, the soft smile still adorning his features. At the gargantuan man's inquiry, he offered him a nod. Yes, he was doing well, not that he could articulate as such, but a nod would suffice. His pleasant face contorted into a slightly pained one as the microphone screeched again, but he didn't let that deter him for long. He was anxious, as the entire crowd was anxious, to witness the unveiling of the statue. What happened next, however, was something no one could have forseen or predicted.

He didn't actually see what had happened at first. All he felt was a tidal wave of fear wash over him. His eyes widened in a slight panic, but he quickly shoved the emotions aside. No time to get caught up in others' feelings, not when something terrible had apparently happened. Michael looked to the man at his side, then Quake, almost as if to make sure they were alright or perhaps to see if they could see what the commotion was about. Taking to a stand, the empath stood on tip toe and tried to see over the crowd what had gotten everyone so upset. And when he did see it, nothing could have prepared him for it.

Michael has never seen a dead body. Well, not in person, at least. He's seen shows on television where victims are shown having been slaughtered in their own house, but nothing could compare to actually seeing it in real life. It made him feel sick with nausea. How could this have happened? He wrapped his arms around himself, almost as if that would protect him from whatever was to come next. He shakily lowered himself down to sit next to Salem again on the bench, bringing his legs up to rest his chin on his knees. As afraid as he was of who or whatever had killed that man---woman?---he was more afraid of being trampled by a massive crowd of terrified people.

As someone, who called himself Captain Ray Long, took the microphone, Michael's sense of dread intensified. As much as he wanted whoever was responsible for this to come to justice, he was afraid of what the questioning might entail. And how on Earth was he to answer, should they insist upon it from him? Part of him wanted to leave the area as quickly as he could, yet he could not move. He was frozen, either due to fear or a refusal to leave Quake and Salem behind. He buried his face in his knees, but still the image of the dead man shown in his mind's eye. He couldn't get away from it.

Aileen's decent to the ground was calculated and controlled to where the impact would be soft and harmless, as if she had done this many times before. And she had. "I'm fine. You held it together three seconds longer this time," she said with a smile, gingerly rising from her laying position to her full height.

It was easy for her to see the epicenter of the ceremony, given her heightened sense of sight and the fact that her head rose rather far above the others. She instead looked down to see Shane's face, hoping that he'd have an excited reaction to the reveal. The man to whom this statue was in honor of was his direct ancestor, after all.

As soon as shouts of horror rung out through the crowd, Aileen whipped her head back to where the statue was-- or where it should have been. Instead, there was an incomplete wire frame and...
"Oh god..." she breathed, her dark face paling. A body-- in such horrid condition-- right in front of a thousand people who had planned to be there? Things like that didn't just... happen.

As someone began speaking over the microphone, Vi anticipated the moment the statue would finally be revealed. It was all so exciting. There was so much energy in the air, she couldn't help but get wrapped up in it all, even though she hadn't lived in the camp for very long herself. She even cheered when the rest of the crowd did, and counted down with them, anxiously awaiting the final moment...

However, that excitement quickly died. The promised golden statue was nowhere to be seen, instead a wire frame stood in its place. Although, that was hardly the alarming part. Vi's gaze was fixed on the shrived up body, unable to look away, no matter how much she wanted to. She covered her mouth with her hands and nearly lost her balance on the lamppost. Thankfully, she held on with her rubber feet. "A... A body...?" She whispered to herself. "Wh--Why...? How... Does something like this... Happen...?" Vi was so stunned she hardly she even registered the words of the captain that followed. She thought this was supposed to be a safe and peaceful place. What caused something like this to happen? Who could do such a thing?

As all of this happens around me, I move among the crowd, avoiding any contact with anyone. Instead I calmly sit on a bench nearby, ready to answer whatever questions the captain and whoever have for me, as the murder does not seem to phase me. It is not that I have no emotion, it is just I was burned alive after having mounds of debris trapping me, which is a death that is hard to beat. Still the fact that someone has been murdered here, makes me wonder, are there bad people as well as good people in this camp? Had the person who created this place unintentionally created a potential war zone of good vs evil? I scan the area for any signs that may lead to the killer. This murderer was now my prey.

Slowly but surely the crowd began to diminish, some people being led off to the local precinct on foot, some being hauled away to separate acres of the Camp. Ambulances came to pick up those who were injured in by the stampeding crowd and the police had squared up the perimeter, surrounding the body. What could only be assumed as a measure to clear out people fast, a couple dozen large armored vans appeared, packing in as many people as they could before returning and doing the same until only only about a hundred people remained in the main square. The banners and balloons that once lined the dorim columns that lined the main square for the, ahem, 'special event', were now tattered, ripped and popped. Captain Ray Long stood in the foreground of the body, still on top of the stage. A coroner's van arrived on the scene, aswell as a continuing arrival of police cars and trucks. The Captain approached the mic once more despite it having been unplugged, but it was soon clear he didn't need it as the intimidating black man spoke with a loud booming voice.

"You all heard and saw earlier who I am and what happened. However, the exact understanding of 'what happened' is still unknown. As I am sure you are all aware the Camp has not had a documented murder in four years. That is what makes this so serious. The killer has struck once and has displayed his work on this stage like it were a canvas; this is a work of art to him. Painters do not just stop painting, it is in their blood, and this man's blood has been spilled... What had been ironic was that their had been no blood spilled. The body had been completely drained, there was nothing inside making it merely a husk, a shell, a vessel. No fingerprints, no weapon, nothing caught on film. Clearly who ever did this was dangerous, no, they were worse than dangerous, they were smart.

"I have been the Supreme Captain of the entire line of precincts in this camp for four years. So know that when I say I will catch this person, no. This monster. Then you have my word.

-----

Quake couldn't believe what he'd seen, not because of the murder itself, that was nothing to his worn and traveled eyes, but the way this body looked...Scrunched up on the floor in a defensive position, it's how he looked when Quake attacked him. That boy, in fear, he could never forget the look in his frightened teary brown eyes, the horror, the pain. Quake had caused all of that, and what was worse was that he didn't care. That boy hurt his sister. He didn't care that he hurt him and that's what affected him the most. As the large man looked down at Michael he could tell how much this had affected him aswell, it was like looking into that boys eyes again, but in the present, the fear...The pain...Did Michael truly feel it all? How could a person feel what another...He wondered if Michael could feel Quake's struggle, his conflict, he wondered if Michael could feel thoughts and desires, he even wondered if Michael himself could feel emotions on his own or if it could only be affected by others. None of that mattered. Not now. What mattered was that man. Quake looked to where Vi had posted herself, it was easy to see her now once the crowd had dwindled. He gave her a nod, letting her know him and Michael were there if she needed some people to be with. Or at least that's what he tried to imply with the simple nod.

----

Digby hadn't been able to see until the crowd had died down a little, and when he did see he wasn't afraid, he was angry. His jaw tense and his fists clenched, his face red with any noun one could thing of that was synonymous with rage. "How the **** DARE THEY. That...That Statue it...Aileen that statue was important to me. He deserved that statue. He will get that statue if it ****ing kills me. Do you understand? I will catch who did this and I will...I don't what I'll do..."

"I know it did," Aileen replied, her typically cold and even tone noticeably softer, and perhaps a little weary. "I know, Digby. This wasn't supposed to happen--" She stopped herself, eyes narrowing and mouth stretching into a thin line. "No... someone planned this. Someone wanted to scare everyone." She hugged her arms around her chest. "I don't have a clue why, but the motivation exists somewhere."

After listening to the Captain's words, she added, "It's in good hands, Digby. I understand how personal this is to you, but don't put yourself in danger. We can help by giving our word."

"Our WORD? What the hell good is that going to do, Aileen? Someone desecrated a statue that hadn't even been there and left that body. Something is wrong. This isn't...This isn't just some serial killer. This isn't..." He tried to get his senses together, his teeth grinding back and forth as he swung back his arm and shoved it forward towards a metal lamp post with great force that would have almost certainly left him with something broken had he not swiftly transformed his fist into that of a Gorilla's, greatly bending the pole. "This is personal. Maybe not against me. But against him. Deidicus. This was planned, but it's way too...It's too coincidental." Digby turned to face Aileen. "Aileen we have to get into the records room we have to see who sign the documents to get that thing put up!"