Welcome to Gaia! ::

~ Typical Varol Marona rules apply.
~ No god-modding.
~ Do not stretch the page
~ Keep things Simi-lit at least
~ Your avatar can not be your character image.
~ No killing, unless the potentially deceased agrees.
~ PM me with your profile
~ Romance is allowed, but make out and you're out.
~ If you fail to communicate for a long period of time, I'll delete your character profile.

Gaia Name: Melangle
Character Name: Rebecca Rosewood
Character Alias: Boudicca
Gender: Female
Age: 27
Alliance: Neutral Good
Weapons: Bow and arrows, short sword, special cloak.
Cloak: this cloak enables her to do many things. It can do almost anything to a somewhat minor degree. Mist usually follows it.
Powers: Sight (can see some things into the future), can look bigger and more scary then she is, communication over distance (complicated), herbal lore.
Quick Bio: Rebecca was adopted by a well-to-do British couple. They found her just after they had lost a child of their own. They moved from their little cottage in the south western area of England to America for opportunity and found it in Republic City. They made their way to the top and gained a beautiful house in the skin, of the city.
Rebecca had "sight" her whole life but ignored it until she was a freshman in college, where she used to bow and short-sword to help prevent bad things. She found out sight was linked to Avalon. She went there, found her birth mother and trained to become a priestess. She had to leave Avalon to save the world and was gifted a cloak of power.
Appearance: Boudicca







Gaia Name: count_smirk
Character Name: Joey
Character Alias: None
Gender: Male
Age: 11
Alliance: Neutral
Weapon: None
Powers: Joey was exposed at a young age to an unusual type of radiation which caused his genetic system to undergo a process which could be loosely compared to evolution. His five senses and reflexes are all many times superior to a normal human's and each have individual new facilities. His bones and muscles develop faster, and his mind works about five times faster compared to the average human. His body also repairs itself much faster, broken bones only take a few days to heal and damaged veins close almost immediately.
Quick Bio: Born in New York, from an early age Joey was allowed to accompany his father to work, a top-secret laboratory facility owned by GenCorp, the world's leading genetic research company designed for the advancement of treatment for various genetic diseases. During testing of a radical new type of steroids, Joey got too close. His father is an attempt to pull him back from the dangerous chemicals caused them to spill, onto Joey. The chemicals reacted with each other, and the hormones on Joey's body causing him to mutate in various ways. After various medical scans and tests it was confirmed that Joey had been harmed in no permanent way. In fact the results were so unexpected and impressive that Joey was to be kept back for various other tests. Fearing where this might lead his father took Joey to Republic City and secret, and left him to find shelter with friends there. As of yet Joey has remained undetected by the teams of hunters sent after him by GenCorp but it is only a matter of time before he is found by wither them, or others who might attempt to turn him in other directions...
Appearance: Joey is tall for his age and very well-built, due to the steroids. His hands and feet are noticeably larger than normal with longer toes and fingers. His eyes are very strange, about 50% larger than usual with massive pupils and crimson irises. Due to his body being larger than any other eleven year-old's Joey tends to wear large coats and scarfs. As well as boots and bloves. He has long blonde hair and a very pronounced "Jewish" nose.







Gaia Name: bingomanzero
Character Name: Sean McHale
Character Alias: Shadowmancer
Gender: Male
Age: nearly 7 centuries
Alliance: chaotic evil
Weapon(s): claws, superpowers
Power(s):
1. A living Gargoyle/ human hybrid, his body is capable of nearly instantaneous regeneration.
2. Changeling.
3. Super-strength/Agility.
4. Limited Psychic abilities. (Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis, Telepathy, Hypnotic suggestion, etc...
Bio: Sean was born in Scotland in 1327. His mother was a Druidic Priestess, and he was raised in the knowlege and practice of worship to the old gods. When the Cristian religion began to spread into his homeland, he, along with his mother and many others of the cult resisted violently. At one point, he led a raid into a nearby Christian villiage, slaughtering everyone and burnng it to the ground.
In retaliation, the Christian king of Avalon, Arthur sent his knights to hunt them down. He witnessed his mother betrayed by her close companion and sorceror of the old gods, Merlin, and many of his friends killed by Arthurs knights.
The surviving few Druidic Cultists gathered in secret one night, and petitioned the oldest and most terrible of the old gods for aid. The old god heard them and transformed their bodies to ghastly abominations, and each was granted great power, the chief of which was Sean.
They attacked Avalon immediately, and slaughtered many before Merlin appeared. He cast a mighty spell upon them, and they were all cursed with stone. Sean watched as each of his brethren were smashed to bits, but just before he was to be destroyed Arthur interviened.
The great King of Avalon decreed, "Let him be placed at the crown of our great castle in Scotland as a warning to all Druids. This is the fate of those who conjur the ancient gods, which are not gods at all, but demons with foul hatred for mankind, the blessed creation of the True God."
"There is wisdom in this, O King," Merlin responded, "however, the power of the old gods of shadow still remain. The day may come when my magic becomes to weak to hold this one."
"Be that as it may," the King replied, "thusly shall my orders be carried out."
So, there Sean stood, imprisoned in his stone body without rest or reprieve. Throughout the centuries he watched the countryside change, and his mind, still active and in a state of relentless horror, snapped and warped within him. At the beginning of the twentieth century his prison began to decay with the harsh elements, and he feared total annhialation, that is until a historical society took notice of him and shipped his stone remains to an American museum.
He was restored and put on display for numerous years, given watch over the droves of people which he desperately despised. His broken mind observed and learned many things, and amused itself in the countlessdark nights with fantasies of torture and depravity.

It was there one night, at the witching hour, when the old sorceror's curse waned, and the power of the old god of shadow sprung up anew. His body regained it's flesh, and he his powers and strength, though considerably weakened by the centuries. The night watchman met his end at the end of his claws that night, and the insane creature feasted upon his entrails. It was the first of his victims that night... twisted

Appearance: (Coming soon)

Meeting times and dates will be here.

Rich awoke with a start, sitting straight up in bed and staring into the darkness of his room. His sheets were drenched with sweat and he was shaking violently, though whatever he had been dreaming was lost to him almost instantly. He turned his head and stared at the clock. A bright red 3:47am glared at him in the stillness of the night. He grimaced and swung his legs over the side of his bed, but then he paused. He looked over his shoulder at the empty side of the bed and sighed before getting to his feet.

He staggered out the door and into the hallway toward the bathroom. Upon reaching the door, he opened it and stepped inside, turning toward the mirror. He flicked on the light.

A sudden scream erupted in his ears and his mind's eye was gripped by the flash of a horror-filled recollection, then both ceased instantly, leaving an eerie echo of terror in his chest and no memory to hang it on. His own horrified face gawked at himself in the mirror, it's eyes not even blinking against the sudden painful stabs of light after waking in darkness.

He took a deep breath, calmed himself and turned on the tap. After washing his face, he looked up at his reflection again, dripping and weary.

"It was just a dream." He said to himself. "Just a dream." The words sounded hollow in his ears, even as he said them. Whatever he had witnesed, whatever he had seen in his dreams that night were lost to him, dissipated into the night air like a wisp of fog. But the fear... the fear stayed with him.

Rich dried his face with the towel, and plopped it onto the edge of the sink carelessly before clicking the light off and returning to his room. When he arrived, he saw his bed, dischevelled and empty illuminated by a bright shaft of moonlight. He stood in the doorway a moment, unmoving. His eyes wandered to the unsullied side, and after a moment he decided that he didn't feel like sleeping anymore. He walked over to his closet and changed out of his pajamas and into his...regular evening attire.

Moments later, Rich was hurtling across the rooftops of Republic City in his newly-restored Shell uniform. It was a version made specially for him by a certain Government agency, and resembled their standard operative uniform a bit more than his original costume, but he considered the changes to be an improvement, especially since they expected no favors from him in return... at least not yet.

It felt good to be running again, exerting himself simply to get across town. His powers aided him greatly as he did so, allowing him super-gymnastic feats the frankly saved his life each time he lept across an alley or street. He had learned a few tricks over the years on how to employ his gifts in this manner, and he considered himself to be quite skilled at getting across town swiftly, quicker than a cab at least.

He had a certain destination in mind tonight, and luckily, his course was not interrupted by a random mugging or robbery this time. In fact, the city limits were behind him in what seemed like record time. Of course, it meant that now the going would be a bit slower, with no skycsctrapers to bounce off of so he dropped to the street and ducked into a dark alley where he removed his mask. His new uniform could pass as civillian clothing with little adaptation, and he thought this to be quite helpful in many situations.

It was a short walk to Rebecca's little farm just outside town. And it was little surprise to him when he noticed a light on as he approached the farmhouse in the center of the property. He figured she'd know it was him even before he knocked, but he did so anyway.

"Rebecca, it's me. Can we talk?"

Darkness. To say the least, Sean had knew his fair share of darkness. You could say he had thrived on it, loved it even... but not so much anymore. Darkness had been his constant companion while he had slept. That sleep, hardly being a natural sleep, left him dreamless, restless for...

"Well... not certain how long it was," said the unfamiliar grating voice that had accompanied his every effort to speak since his arousal. He was unsure as to how long it takes for "morning voice" to wear off after one has slept, rather, been entombed, for as long as he had, but he hoped it would be soon. He found it to rather unpleasant. Almost as unpleasant as the darkness.

"It speaks to me." He said aloud in his husky, alien voice. "The darkness...she whispers."

The woman he held in his grime-encrusted claw-like hand didn't seem to be able to discern exactly what he meant at the moment. She just dangled limply by her one good arm (The remains of the other were quite usless to her at this point) there above the dark alleyway some twelve stories up, and blubbered in his face indescriminately. Sean gazed into her face, streaked with tears and blood, focused on her eyes. Eyes that were filled with horror, snot and pain. Not much intelligence left to appreciate his musings as he dismembered her once beautiful body.

Most of his victims had reacted this way, even as far back as... well ther he was again, unsure as to how long it had been. Sean guessed that the reaction had to do with the shock of having a limb torn from one's body, but he coldn't be sure if there wasn't something else there. Why did the mind shut off like that? In this case, it was just an arm. It wasn't like he had disembowelled her or anything...

Sean smiled at the thought, his long, serrated teeth glistening in the moonlight, and the woman's screams became louder, and much more delicious.

Delicious indeed...