TheSeaHawk

The car sped along the streets as the rain poured down. Robert peered through the windshield, it was getting harder and harder to see. For nearly twenty straight minutes he had listened to Richard recount everything that had happened between him and the head of Nekros. He wasn't very comforted.

Leaning forward to try and see Robert pulled over in front of a small and nearly hidden stone church. Turning his collar up he headed out into the rain and motiond for Richard to follow him inside. The unmatched quiet of an empty chapel greeted them inside. Rows and rows hidden in the dark, the altar and crucifix casting odd shadows across the faces of the two men.

Walking onward Robert led Richard into the small office.

"Richard, I think we have work to do." Robert motioned to a phone sitting on the desk, "Can you contact everyone who was there that day you were hurt? I think we should start there."

Robert leaned forward and gently laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, trying to comfort him. "When in the darkness, Richard, you must draw strength from the things you cannot see. Throughout my life I have always found that help came from those places I least expected."

"You must understand though, The Elohim are far more than anyone believes them to be. While I feel certain I can help with your affliction you will see many dark things if you choose to come with me."

Robert slowly stood and walked towards the bookcase and sipped at his tea as he looked over the titles. "You will have quite the journey, Richard, and I do not know what will happen to your soul as a result. But this demon that haunts you know; I promise we will show him the true meaning of nightmares."

"So, my son, shall we go for a ride?"

Robert smiled and paused for a moment. He knew he must choose his words carefully here.

"I am..a friend of Balt's."

Robert let those words sink in as he took a slow sip from his tea. He had never personally met with Richard and Balt had trusted him, so why was he hesitating? Robert could tell there was something this man was hiding, a potential beyond the exterior of a meager bookseller.

Who was this man whom Balt had confided so much in?

"Tell me, Richard, what do you know of the Elohim?"

Robert shivered slightly in his long overcoat, his 60 year old body doing little to keep out the chill. As the door in front of him at last creaked open he removed his hat and looked up to greet young Richard Pickman.

"Ah, Mr. Pickman, my name is Robert MacLeod."

Stepping in through the door he looked around at the cramped book store, rather suprised that with such a bizzare collection the young bookseller managed to stay in buisness at all.

"You have quite the interesting...selection here, Mr. Pickman,"
Robert smiled slightly as he turned to adress the young man,
"But I can see you are confused by my presence? Wondering exactly what a priest would want with you?"

Walking over Robet sat down and made himself comfortable in one of the large but worn leather chairs in the room.

"Perhaps you have some tea, Mr. Pickman? We have buisness to discuss."

Robert stood outside the small book shop, it's understated facade was somewhat decieving considering the wealth of knowledge inside. The stars were all out by now, providing the only light in this part of the city at this time of night.

Taking a moment Robert looked at one star in particular and sighed slightly, "I will try, my friend."

Stepping up to the worn down door Robert rang the bell and then waited.

Robert MacLeod sat quietly in his small office in the back of St. Catherine's Cathedral. He didn't care for this city, in fact he didn't care for cities in general. All too loud and crowded, not enough room for thought in all this constant hustle and bustle.

With a deep sigh be again picked up the same set of photographs he'd looked at a thousand times before. Each one depicted the same group of men who always seemed to show up at the scene of supernatural events. Usually when the Vatican sent Robert anywhere to investigate there wasn't much to what he found, a few days work and he could disprove whatever the miracle or phenomenon was. But here, here there was something.

Setting the photographs down he picked up a small newspaper clipping and again read through it:

Victim of Bizzare Attack Released From Hospital
After nearly a month in the hospital bookseller Richard Pickman was released yesterday. Twenty nine days ago Pickman was the victim of a still unexplained attack as he was leaving his shop...

Well, Pickman had been allowed his rest, now it was time Robert paid him a visit. Gathering up a small stack of papers he stopped to look at a single photograph of a man, the caption read:

Balt Michaels, Leader of the 'Elohim' organization, missing 15 days

Robert made his way out into the street, he was very much looking forward to this meeting. Young Richard certainly had quite a few suprises coming his way.

*breathes life back into the thread*
((Wanted to give everyone a chance to get caught back up on this thread before our members started posting in it again. Obviously we will need to do a bit of reconstruction (I will be making a post on this) to explain the absence of Balt but I think we can manage. I can't wait to get this thread really going again.))

((A RP group which has been in the planning stages for several months is at last making it's appearance in game))

A Brief History of The Elohim

Billions of years ago life arose on a small planet in an inauspicious arm of an insignificant spiral galaxy. Over millions of years this life evolved until it gradually became sentient. Millions more years refined the intelligence of this life until it could conceive of itself as an entity. Then a group. Then a race. And, ultimately, as a race of ascendant star farers who named themselves “The Yah.”

Shortly after the ascendance of The Yah, as it is reckoned in stellar terms, there arose in the same galaxy two other intelligent races. The Yah monitored them closely as they proceeded through their own evolutions until, ultimately, both ascended as well. These two races were the Anak and the El.

The Anak, whose evolution took place on a violent, nearly inhospitable planet, adapted in such a way that “survival of the fittest” and “might makes right” were staples of their moral code. The home planet of the El, on the other hand, was one of majestic beauty and bounty. The moral code of the El was one of peace, prosperity and co-operation.

The Yah, perhaps sensing that left unchecked the two races would find and annihilate each other, brought the two together for their First Contact in the hopes that they could be made to form a triad of ascendant powers. The El were easily convinced, seeing a chance for a new era of expanding knowledge and peaceful relations with their galactic friends. The Anak were less enthused, but completely overawed by the power of The Yah. The three races left the conference in a tenuous alliance.

The alliance held for hundreds of thousands of years. With the El’s enthusiastic pursuit of knowledge and beauty, the paternalistic guidance of The Yah and the military might of the Anak they maintained dominance over the galaxy. It would not last, however.

Eons ago (circa 185,000 B.C.E.) the Anak arrived in the Sol System searching for gold to repair the faltering atmosphere of their home planet. Using genetic manipulation to alter some of the third planet’s fauna, they searched for an efficient, docile race native to the planet to serve as slaves for their mining operations. Finding that in every case the altered fauna were inefficient at best, the Anak decided to splice their own genetic code with that of one particular species that seemed to contain the potential to be both efficient and easily controlled.

This species was H omo Erectus. ((Spacing is necessary to avoid board censorship, believe it or not)) The result of this hybridization was an entirely new species: H omo Sapiens. For thousands of years the Anak maintained secret mining operations on the planet, depleting most of its gold resources. When diminishing returns forced them to search elsewhere, the Anak took a large number of slaves from the new species then left the third planet, and the remaining H omo Sapiens with it, to its own devices.

The Anak returned to their home planet to find their two allies did not agree with their methods of tampering with another planet’s evolution. Debate raged among the three, the fierce and prideful Anak refuting the others’ right to dictate to them and growing further and further enraged by their presumption. Finally, amid much anger and acrimony, the two forbade the Anak from ever participating in such things again, upon pain of outright war. The Anak, beside themselves with rage but with no recourse but to submit, did so and secretly brooded over their perceived defeat while planning their revenge. They were not aware, however, that The Yah had seen into their hearts and known them to be full of rage and spite. The Yah asked the El to monitor the Anak in order that the two races might be able to stop any revenge before it ever occurred. This atmosphere of wary watchfulness and barely restrained hatred made for a precarious balance, and one that would ultimately explode.

A few thousand years ago (circa 3400 B.C.E.) The Anak returned to the third planet of the Sol System to continue their work. Little evolutionary progress had been made in their absence, which led them to conclude scornfully that the species they had created was good only for slavery. They set up their base of operations in what would one day be known as Sumeria and promptly returned massive numbers of H omo Sapiens into slavery to work in their mines once again, in direct violation of their agreement with the El and Yah.

Unbeknownst to them, they had been followed closely by the El. Once the El saw what they were up to they tried to contact The Yah. But The Yah did not respond. With no guidance the El were forced to deal with the situation alone. They chose not to wage open war against the Anak over the planet, as that would have destroyed the very thing they wanted to protect. Seeing no way to defeat the Anak by force, the El decided to wage war for the hearts and minds of humanity instead. The El took the nascent agricultural revolution and used it as the seed from which to grow civilization on the planet. In places scattered over the world they taught the native humans advanced astronomy, mathematics, physics, written language, the concepts of aesthetic art and many other building blocks of civilization. In a very short time, evolutionarily overnight, civilization had sprung up all over the planet.

The Anak at first were confused. They believed the humans incapable of such things and were correct, to an extent. They quickly realized that there was something deeper going on and got to the root of the El’s meddling. By that time, however, human civilization was already rooted and humanity could not simply be made to forget. Furious, the Anak pondered war. Some of them, however, knowing that they could make military war at any time, suggested that to completely avenge themselves upon the El they should first corrupt the El's teachings before then destroying them. They began to warp civilization to their own ends, teaching humanity about war, oppression, caste and poverty. They encouraged civilizations to become provincial and antagonistic. They promoted greed and hatred. Religious intolerance and racism. They became dark “gods” to the El’s light.

It was during this time that both races would be christened with the names humanity were to know them by for the rest of human history. The Sumerians incorporated the Anak race-name into their language and called the dark gods “Annunaki”, “Those that come from Heaven to Earth.” The proto-Akkadians, who would one day become the Hebrews, named the El “The Elohim”, a simple plurality form of “El”, but it ultimately came to mean many things to them. They looked upon the El as gods and the term “Elohim” came to mean “godlike” or “mighty”.

The Anak knew that outright war was inevitable. In preparation for the coming war they created a hybrid race of superhumans called Nephilim. These creatures had awesome powers, much like the Anak, yet they shared the mortality of humanity. The Anak themselves took to calling the combined force of Anak and Nephilim “The Annunaki” and it has ever after been their name when referring to themselves and their allies. At first the Nephilim were nothing more than shock troops for the Anak, but then something happened that their masters did not plan for. Many Nephilim developed a conscience.

Much to the delight of the El, some Nephilim sought to defect and fight for the cause of justice and freedom. When some of the Nephilim defected the El showed one of their rare instances of rancor when they mocked The Annunaki by taking the name “The Elohim” in parody of The Annunaki’s pretentiousness. Finally, after millions of years of animosity, open war broke out between the two great factions.

So great and horrific was the war, in fact, that the written histories of human civilizations all over the planet at that time record it. While in many cases humanity’s limited understanding attributed it to battles between gods, in reality it was simply a vicious brawl between two interstellar enemies. Even so, both sides adopted humanity’s nomenclature and still call the series of battles “The War in Heaven.”

When the dust cleared it was apparent that the fight was a stalemate. The Annunaki, furious at The Elohim’s refusal to back down, took a huge number of human slaves and left the planet vowing to return and punish The Elohim for their meddling. They did not, however, take the Nephilim with them. The Elohim spent many years tracking down the remaining evil Nephilim and dispatching them, but could not be sure that they were all gone. As a result they decided to leave a handful of observers to watch over humanity in secrecy, always searching for Nephilim. Those Nephilim disposed to helping The Elohim were recruited to do so. Those who were not were watched very closely. And in some cases… disposed of. The Watchers have had many names over the years and they yet keep their vigil.

And so it goes to this day. The Elohim have been many places, seen and done many things, but the tale told above is the essence of their quest. Their fight with the villainous Annunaki began on a small planet in a backwater star system, but it has spilled out into many worlds and dimensions. Recently word has spread that on another small planet, in a splinter dimensional future of the original planet, agents of The Annunaki have returned and attacked. Rumours of tremendous amounts of Nephilim on said planet have also reached The Elohim’s ear and it is only a matter of time before they send a force to investigate. What will happen from there is anyone’s guess.

((Written by Balthasar. Please keep in mind that while your character may have heard rumors of a group called the Elohim in game they would certainly not know any of this information. If you'd like to interact with us or join please visit our messageboard to learn more about our group))

Epilogue

Thomas hadn’t ever been here. He’d had to call several funeral homes before he could even find out where it was. The grave stood slightly apart from the others, a blanket of the Fall leaves scattered around it on the ground. Slowly Thomas sat down next to the headstone, “Hello Father.”

“I thought it was time I came here. You should have told me about Mother. I deserved to know the truth.”

“I, well, I wanted to tell you I found her. I know she wasn’t who she used to be, something had turned her against her friends. Some blamed that on you.”

Thomas brushed some of the dead leaves off of the stone and sat looking at it for several moments. “I read in the paper they didn’t find any bodies in the floors that burned. I don’t know if that means anyone survived or they were just destroyed in the collapse. I promise if either of them is still alive I won’t stop until I find them.”

“You were never a good Father to me, I want you to know that. But you did raise me, and you did provide for me. So for that much I can respect you, but I know now I will never love you.”

Touching the marker one last time Thomas stood and looked at the slowly dying tree next to the grave.

“I can’t fully control my powers yet. Something seems to happen to me when I use them, I’m not myself. I hope in time I can learn. I just can’t let anymore people down.”

Thomas sighed slightly and looked at the grave again.

“Maybe what I am going to do now will make you proud of me at last. I don’t know and I’m not sure I care any more. But I’m going to do it anyway.”

“I’m going to help people.”

He turned and walked away towards the open gates, “Goodbye Father.”

Stepping out onto the busy sidewalk he leapt into the air and took flight on the wind.

Episode Eight: The Fall to Earth

His courage was gone. He could feel it leaving his body, like a pitcher being overturned and all the water spilling out.

“My, my…Mother?”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why your Father kicked your Mother out Thomas? He discovered what your Mother was doing! The powers she had because she was a mutant! He was disgusted. He couldn’t share his bed with a freak so he threw her out.”

Even as the man slowly spoke Thomas could only listen. He just stared at the ground, the revelation too much for him to comprehend so quickly.

“Until that day your Mother had been a force of good. But it was your Father’s betrayal that led her to forsake her weak friends and seek me out. In secret she would help me thwart the actions of those precocious mutants. For years I used her knowledge to carry out operations. But, when he told me of their new guest, I decided it was time to act.”

Thomas couldn’t speak. Was it truly his fault that his friends had died?

“The strength of two superheroes by my side was an opportunity too great to pass up. All I had to do was wipe out those who would protect you. Even in that they proved failures.”

Then, for the first time, Thomas’ Mother spoke to him “Don’t be a fool Thomas. If you turn away now you won’t survive. Join us and I promise no more harm will come to you. You won’t have to fear for those around you any longer. You can finally be safe.”

“So, Thomas,” the man spoke slowly “What do you say?”

He could barely find the courage to open his mouth, all those feelings of terror he had always lived with had come flooding back to him. He slowly fell to his knees, overwhelmed, it was all he could do to take a gasp of air.

Suddenly a solitary image flashed in front of him. He was in the garden and Crag was teaching him how to fish in the small pond. Thomas wasn’t very good and kept releasing his line directly up into the air. Crag couldn’t stop laughing and with his typical smile said to him “Best be careful, don’t want you pulling the sky down on us!”

“Thomas?” The soft sound of his Mother’s voice brought him back to the present. “No more stalling, what is your answer?”

He grinned, slightly, almost to himself. “London Bridge is falling down, falling down….”

“What?” Both of them spoke in unison, thinking the shock had driven the boy mad.

“…My fair lady.”

He didn’t speak another word, he didn’t even seem to think, he just thrust his hands skyward and tore a ceiling support loose with a roar of wind. Thomas didn’t have time to glance towards the others, instead he simply launched himself towards the window hoping to escape the collapsing room.

The wood and concrete made a tremendous sound as it impacted the floor below and landed with enough force to crush anyone unlucky enough to be under it. Thomas, however, was out in the open air and spiraling towards the approaching street. With only a few moments to spare he regained his senses and managed to bring himself to a gentle landing with the aid of a small wind. Turning he looked back up towards the building he had just escaped from. High above on the top floor a fire was raging black smoke billowing upwards into the sky. A site Thomas found somewhat familiar and appropriate.

For the moment he was free, only he didn’t know where here was. Nearby he spotted a businessman hurrying towards a Taxi, “Excuse me? I, um, well can you tell me where I am?”

“What? Look you crazy or something? You’re in Paragon City!”

Episode Seven: This Hawk Has Claws

The guard was backed into the corner now, his eyes wide with terror. It hadn’t taken much more convincing for Thomas’ hood to be removed, at last he could actually see the area about him. His room was at the end of a long, bland hallway with his former guard now cowering in the corner. The halls were steel and devoid of any color, the floor an iron grate of a similar color. Doors which he assumed led to cells similar to his lined the roughly hundred foot hallway before it ended in a cylindrical elevator at the opposite end.

Sparing a quick glance at the guard Thomas set off down the hallway, his bare feet nearly silent as his steps quickened. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the guard alerted the others that the prisoner had escaped. He would have to move quickly.

Making his way inside the elevator he was confronted by a mass of numbers on the panel. He would need the pass-code to get anywhere.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Thomas decided to chance it that he had enough control over what ever it was that he was suddenly able to do. After a few moments of poking and prying he was able to force a panel in the ceiling loose and, with a deep breath, he slowly began to propel himself upwards on a cushion of air. The shaft extended above him as far as he could see before it faded into darkness and he didn’t seem to be passing any other floors. Wherever this place was he was either deep underground or very, very high up. Thomas preferred not to think of it that way; He wasn’t overly fond of heights.

In the silence of the elevator shaft Thomas could hear voices coming from the other side, some sort of meeting was going on. Occasionally, above the shouts of others, Thomas could hear the distinct voice of the man who had kidnapped him. Who had killed his friends.

Thomas didn’t know what he did, or how, but suddenly the elevator doors were literally blown outward in the room with a roar of air. The steel pieces bounced across the opulent meeting room, crushing one unfortunate man against the far wall. The 8 other men in the room, the shock finally passing, all reached into their coats and pulled out an assortment of firearms. Thomas, still feeling the surge of power and anger, didn’t even falter. He reached out for the man closest to him and, with a rush of air, sent him slamming into the man right next to him. The sickening thud with which they hit the wall assured Thomas they wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

That left six.

Three men who had been seated along the right side of the table were now dropping to their knees, preparing to open fire with their pistols. Thomas didn’t give them a chance. He thrust both his hands forward and with a violent shattering noise the massive oak conference table came loose and turned directly over onto the men. Thomas briefly heard screams of terror before they were abruptly silenced.

Then the first shots rang out. The roar of guns and the shattering of the wall immediately next to his head caused Thomas to dive for the cover of a nearby alcove featuring a rather gaudy statue. For a moment the guns stopped and he could hear the sounds of footsteps as two of the men walked around the shattered table and inched their way across the room to get a view of the alcove.

Thomas knew he had to act quickly, in a few more seconds the men would have him cornered. He had to come up with something and now.

Thomas, suddenly grinning wide, shouted, “En guarde!”

The men stopped, hesitated, and then opened fire at the statue. It didn’t take long for the statue’s base to collapse and for the entire thing to fall backwards. With a crash it broke through the window behind it and tumbled out into the nighttime sky. By now the men could plainly see there was no longer anyone behind it.

Laughing with relief the two men walked towards the alcove, hoping to be able to spot their dead prisoner on the sidewalk far below. Leaning out of the window both peered into the dim light’s below, searching for a body. They were, unfortunately for them, looking in the wrong direction.

From the air above them, they heard a voice singing, “Come fly with me, let’s fly let’s fly AWAY…”

The singing was momentarily interrupted by the screams of the two men as a burst of air pulled them outwards and sent them tumbling downward towards a rather grisly end.

Lowering himself back down through the window and into the alcove Thomas continued singing, somehow finding a bravado in himself he had never known before.

“If you can use, some exotic booze,” with a bit of a skip he waltzed back into the room, “There’s a bar in far Bombay…”

“Well done, Thomas, well done indeed.”

Thomas turned, nearly tripping over his own feet. He’d forgotten about the last man! His kidnapper, the murderer! How could Thomas have been so forgetful? He’d been careless and was actually enjoying it all. He felt ashamed for the first time then at what he had done. It had been self defense but he could not deny there had been some joy in it.

“My, my, my. Haven’t we become quite talented?”

Thomas was shocked. The maniac hadn’t even moved from his chair. Despite all the screaming, the gunfire, even the table being torn up around him, he had just stayed calmly seated.

“You!” Thomas shouted at the man, he had to kill the ******* now before he lost his chance. Pulling his hands backwards he prepared to send this monster to the death he truly deserved. The man, however, slowly raised his hand.

“Before you do that, Thomas, there is something I think you might like to know.”

“You have three seconds before I send you to hell.”

“Oh how poetic, Thomas. Well since you insist on being so brash,” the man clicked a button on the arm of his chair, “Anna, could you please come in here?”

A door on the left side of the room opened slowly and in stepped a tall woman whom Thomas recognized almost instantly. The third member of the Righteous Trio. Thomas was in a daze, he had thought for certain she had died along with the others. How could anyone have survived that? Slowly he realized he and his friends had been betrayed, by one of their own.

“Thomas,” the man spoke with a grin, “Surely you remember your Mother?”

Episode Six: Taking Flight on the Wind

Thomas had no idea how long he had slept for but he awoke feeling as though his whole body was one big bruise. He was still bond tightly and was laying face down on some kind of metallic floor. At some point during his sleep they must have taken him out of the car, though with the bag still tied over his head he had no idea where he was now.

Slowly he got to his feet, every muscle and bone in his body screaming with protest, and began to feel his way around the room. At least at some point they had done him the courtesy of releasing his hands and feet, his wrists and ankles were chaffed raw from the cords. It didn’t take him long to arrive back where he started, in all the room couldn’t have been more than ten feet across.

He thought back to the time he had awoken in that strange room all those years ago, all the comforts of that bedroom in the mansion. He doubted he would find any such luxuries awaiting him now. There appeared to be only a small blanket laid out in the corner of is cell, the only nourishment a small bowl of water next to that. He supposed he should be grateful they provided him that much. It was hot in the room and the temperature inside the bag had almost become overbearing, finding it hard to breathe he sat back down on the hard floor.

It slowly began to dawn on him that he might have been left to die wherever he was. What if they had sealed him in some kind of crate and dropped him into the harbor? That maybe they had only left the water as a cruel joke, a horrible ironic play on his impending doom.

He began to hit at the walls, pound at them relentlessly. He yelled for help, for anyone who could here him. But in the end he heard nothing and no one came.

Suddenly he heard an audible click followed by a sort of humming noise, like a speaker coming to life, and then a voice began to speak, “Thomas, Thomas. Don’t get so upset. You can’t get to anything and nothing can get to you. Why don’t you rest some? I assure you it will be much needed soon enough.”

Thomas didn’t respond, he knew the voice all too well. That very same mature and educated voice which made his skin crawl and teeth clench. The Murderer.

Hours went by without another sound; Thomas didn’t move instead he just lay there on the floor curled up on his side from frustration and exhaustion. He knew the oxygen must have been running out in his cell, there certainly wasn’t any kind of ventilation and it had become harder and harder to breathe as the time passed. He began to feel the effects of a lack of air. He became more and more disoriented; at times he would fall into unconsciousness only to come slowly around again in a state of confusion. He knew his lungs were straining for more air, he could feel them burning as they ached for oxygen. His body, however, had given out. Without any air he could barely move his head and trying to shout for help again would be impossible, not to mention a wasted effort.

Then, as he felt the last strands of reality and consciousness slipping away, the air came. Somewhere high up in the room a vent opened and a cascade of cool air came pouring down onto him. He took in a deep breath, his lungs gulping for all they could take as his body slowly came back to life. Panting he dare not stand up, nor even speak, he was terrified of running out of air in the vent was again turned off.

After a few moments, however, the air slowly began to fade and eventually the vent shut down entirely. It only took about an hour before he was again out of air but, just like before, as soon as he began to lose his grip entirely the air would come back.

They were torturing him.

Slowly and painfully, the man meant to kill him.

Days must have gone by with the same process repeating itself over and over again. He began to learn to control his breathing, to expend as little energy as possible, but even as he did that the amount of air released each time the vent opened became less and less. In a few more days he knew the vent would not be open ever again.

When that happened, he knew, that would be the end. The lack of oxygen would seize his body first and then it would take his mind from him.

In those last days his thoughts were devoted to the friends he had lost, all those that he knew he had failed. And now the death of The Trio, who had spared his life and given him so much, would never be avenged. His own death would mark the passing of the last person to have any knowledge of what became of those great heroes. They would have died in vain, without any purpose, and without justice. As the vent slowly clicked open above he lay down with the knowledge this was the last time he would breathe fresh air. The intervals had increased so greatly that Thomas knew this was the last time, he wouldn’t survive so long without it again.

Staring into the inky blackness that was in front of his eyes he slowly took the air, letting it spread throughout his lungs and feed his starving brain. It was then he noticed something strange. He could see the air. It was as if he knew it was there, could feel it moving throughout the room, flowing out of the vent and spreading throughout the room. He reached out with his hands, trying to feel what he could now see, and the current of air from the vent seemed to shift with his hands. Taking a deep breath and concentrating he moved his hands back the other way and again the small breeze seemed to follow.

“It must be some sort of hallucination,” he thought, “The lack of oxygen must have damaged my brain and now I’ve started going crazy.”

Slowly he tried to stand up and again the winds seemed to move with him, almost helping and guiding him upwards. With a shock he felt the sensation of no longer being able to feel the ground, only seemingly a cushion of air beneath his feet. Just as he began to panic, however, the cushion seemed to disappear and the felt the solid floor beneath him once again.

Gathering his thoughts, and trying to calm himself, Thomas slowly raised his arms to either side of him extending them fully out. He reached out with his mind, trying to feel all of the air in the room, and then with a deep breath he tried to push. He pushed with his hands and with his mind, throwing everything he had at the air which was spreading out around him. There wasn’t a trace of air left around him now, he had created a vacuum around himself and his body wasn’t reacting to that well. With desperation he began to try harder, forcing the air against the steel walls on all sides of him.

Then he heard, at last, a small sound of creaking metal.

It hadn’t been much but now he knew he could do it. Even as his lungs were on fire, desperate for air, he kept it up. The longer he continued the more the walls seemed to buckle, to give under the increasingly immense pressure. Suddenly there was a terrific tearing sound and one of the massive plates burst outward, Thomas could hear it collapsing over into another room.

Air came at last flooding in as he relaxed, kneeling down on the floor after such an effort. Slowly he became aware of the breeze as the air continued to flow into his cell, and he could see it moving around a figure. The room’s wall had collapsed out into some kind of hallway and there, standing in the middle, was someone who was looking right at Thomas.

“Who are you?” Thomas shouted at the figure.

“What the hell,” came back an obviously scared reply, “How did you do that?”

Thomas did nothing, he just knelt there staring towards the man almost daring him to call for help. Slowly he began to reach out with one of his hands and send a small rush of air towards the man who stumbled back a couple feet.

“What are you, man?” Whoever this guard was, he was obviously very frightened now.

Thomas, rising to his feet, spoke slowly “You don’t want to know. Now, get this hood off me.”

“Hey, no way man. Get back in there! I, I got a gun!”

“Oh, tell me then,” Thomas spoke slowly feeling a rush of courage, “How long can you hold your breath?”

Hehe, here's some actual bean bag rounds

Bean Bag

Episode Five: Caged Wings

It was over, and Thomas knew it. A tall man, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses, dressed impeccably in an expensive suite walked out of the mist towards him. Everything about the man said wealth, and lots of it. As the man slowly kneeled in front of him Thomas realized he couldn’t be more than 30 years old and was in impressive shape.

Slowly taking off his glasses the strange man began to speak “Hello Thomas. Do you know who I am?”

He was very close to Thomas’ face now as he leaned forward, trying to force Thomas to look at his eyes while he spoke. Laying a hand below the boy’s chin the man slowly raised Thomas’s head up as if to examine him in an almost maternal gesture.

“Well, do you?” The man repeated himself, but he didn’t betray a sense of impatience, it was almost as if he was trying to calm Thomas, to reassure him somehow.

“Just kill me. Kill me like you killed everyone else,” Thomas spat at the man.

“Oh Thomas, I’m hurt,” The man said with a dramatic flair, “I would never harm you. What point could there be in that?” He smiled then, an expression that would make anyone’s skin crawl. This man was nothing but evil, a sophisticated and calculated vile man that Thomas could not possible run from.

“I saw what you did to them. I saw how you tortured them!” Thomas was yelling into the man’s face, he could feel the tears began to well back up in his eyes, the anger and frustration pouring out. “And I…I would kill you if I had the chance.”

“Now Thomas,” the man said, smiling again, “I’m going to give you a chance here. Come with us, and you will be safe. No harm will be done to you. I am done killing for the day,”

Thomas didn’t respond, he just sat there staring at the man, silent and a look of hatred in his eyes.

“Thomas, I am a man of my word.”

As the man spoke an image flashed through Thomas’ head. He was back in the garden, months ago, and Crag was there by his side. He remember that the giant was comforting Thomas after another one of his nightmares. Those words, those all too familiar words…You’re safe here. I promise, kid.

And now Crag was dead, killed by the man Thomas was now face to face with. Someone else had died, and Thomas was once again the only one left alive.

Left alone.

It happened before he even realized he had done it, he’d swung his fist as hard as he could and caught the man square on the noose. Blood sprayed into the air and the man went sprawling onto his back, desperately trying to stop the flow of blood with his hands.

Thomas was shocked; he’d never done anything like that before in his life. Never before had he felt such anger flow through him, and then allowed it to do something so violent and reckless. Never caused another person pain before, no matter how much they may have deserved it.

More than that Thomas realized that he felt something else; A new sensation of satisfaction, something frighteningly similar to pleasure. Now, he was going to pay for hit.

The man slowly climbed to his feet, doing so with grace in an attempt to salvage some of his dignity. It was not often that anyone insulted him and no one had struck him since he was a youth himself. For a moment he let himself become enraged at this affront and he stepped towards Thomas, “You insolent little brat!” The man yelled as he raised a fist above his head and swung it down towards Thomas, striking him hard, causing the boy to collapse onto the ground. Then he struck him again and kept doing it, each one more brutal than the last.

Thomas tried to raise his hands, to soften or block some of the blows but it was hopeless. The man was in a fury, however, and he just kept raining his fists down onto Thomas’ head and back, over and over again. After what seemed like several minutes the man finally stopped, he’d become too tired to hit Thomas again and he had to stop just in order to catch his breath.

“I don’t enjoy teaching lessons like that but, in your case, I rather liked making an exception.” As he finished speaking the man delivered a savage kick to Thomas’ gut, causing him to cry out as he lay crumpled on the ground.

“You could have let it be so simple, that’s what I wanted. That’s what is easier on me. But no, you had to act the hero. Well, then you can die like your little hero friends. Would you like that?” The man was yelling now, his face red with rage and his hands gesturing violently towards the prostrate Thomas. “Shall I burn you alive like I did them? Slowly, so very slowly, just so you can scream that much longer? Do you want me to make you scream on your way to your grave? Do you?!”

Thomas couldn’t respond, every part of his body hurt, he knew no matter what he said the man would only become angry again. He wasn’t sure he could stay conscious if he began to beat him once more. Here he was, he could see himself looking just like the weakling he had always been. The first time he had stood up to someone he’d received the worst beating of his life, now he probably wouldn’t live much longer. In a life that was filled with one mistake after another, Thomas thought, it was only fitting that it end like this.

Slowly raising his head to face the eyes of the man, he prepared himself to accept his fate. He forced himself past his fear; he would take whatever was coming without any of his usual cowardice.

At last the man spoke, slowly, as he licked the last remnants of blood off his lip “Sadly, Thomas, I think it is best I keep you alive for now. Something tells me you will be of use soon enough. Shame really, I was just beginning to enjoy imagining hearing you scream and beg.” The man smiled again then, that same cruel cold smile, “Ah well, good things to those who wait.”

“Bag him up boys. Let’s go for a little ride, alright Thomas?”

Several of the men who had been standing around, also dressed in suits, stepped out of the circle and began to bind Thomas’ hands and feet tightly together. Lastly one of them dropped a bag over Thomas’ head and secured it with a cord around his neck. He was completely immobilized and couldn’t see a thing. He could feel the fear beginning to take him again.

“You are afraid, aren’t you Thomas?” Despite the bag he could still hear the man speaking from somewhere near by, “I do hope so, otherwise I will have to make your stay with us an eventful one.”

Feeling himself tossed into the trunk of a car, followed shortly by the slam of if being closed, Thomas curled up and at last slept. His body had nothing left to give for fear.

Oo very interesting I have to say. While my main character already has a home I would certainly be open to the idea of creating a character for this. Keep us updated as to what you decide to do!

The request caught Thomas very off guard, certainly no one had ever done anything like that to him before. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to get inside his head, he hated having to be in there himself most of the time. He knew, however, to refuse someone who was obviously trying to help would have been foolish.
And possibly dangerous.

Slowy Thomas nodded his head, "Alright, go ahead..."

Well hope I don't push you over the edge but excellent job! A very entertaining, well done, and original background. *claps*

"My name, I'm sorry, of course my name. I get called The Sea-Hawk sometimes but my real name is just Thomas."

He shifted on his feet a bit, increasingly nervous about saying the wrong thing. Looking up a the moon he took a deep breath and began to speak again, "It's not so much that I heard, well, I sort of did. I was actually just taken here, in a way."

Looking around at their faces, all of which wore expressions of confusion, he tried to explain further, "I can, well, control the wind a bit you see. And, well, sometimes if I am looking for something the wind will shift direction. It just, um, just led me to this alley."

Raising his hands a bit he stuttered a bit "I'm no threat I promise, I'm just trying to figure somethings out. Somethings about who I am..."

Glad to see someone's enjoying it!

I'll have a new chapter up soon, thanks again for the comments.

Episode Four: On Wings of War

For nearly six years Thomas lived with the Righteous Trio, but never once did he ask Crag what he meant that day in the garden. As far as Thomas could tell he was just the same as he was on the beach that day, and everyday before that too. His life was simple and nearly always he was happy, he always knew that his life could be so much worse. He had come to regard himself as an incredibly lucky kid. He was taught lessons by Striga, he became an even more veracious reader and became quite knowledgeable in literature, mathematics, and even more than one language. Gifted as he was with a quick and resourceful mind, his shyness never truly went away. He would still stutter whenever he became nervous or was forced to answer a question, and his speech was almost always marked by awkward pauses and stumbles.

Despite his reservations Thomas also became quite a gifted Athlete. He would exercise with Craig, although he stayed away from trying to lift the boulders, and would often go for long runs on his own around the grounds. It was on one of these morning runs that everything he knew would, once again, collapse around him

Thomas had just rounded a corner on the dirt patch which wound it’s way deep into the woods that surrounded the mansion when he heard the noises. For the past thirty minutes, since he had started jogging, everything had been completely silent save for his feet thudding on the path. Now, from the direction of the main house, there came a series of thunderous explosions which shook the very ground.

For the first time in many years, Thomas remembered what fear felt like.

He broke into a sprint, though even running as fast as he could he knew he was a good 10 minutes from the house. The closer he got the louder the noises became, whatever was happening must have been literally tearing the mansion apart. He could see that a fire had started somehow and smoke was now rapidly billowing into the air and rising high into the sky.

He ran faster and faster, as hard as he possibly could, desperate to see what had become of his friends.

And then just as quickly as it had all begun, one moment the roar of battle filled the air, then all was silent. Terror tock a hold of him, he stood still in the center of the path watching the smoke slowly travel upwards into the sky. Clearly the battle was over. Someone was victorious and someone had failed. Someone had died. He just prayed he hadn’t lost his friends. When he finally did make his way back to the house all the haze made it almost impossible to see. Debris littered the ground and he lost his footing several times, stumbling downwards and tearing up his hands on the remains of the mansion walls. The smoke was so thick that tears had begun to flow down his cheeks, with his clouded eyes and growing desperation he only became lost amidst the ruins.

He didn’t recognize anything, everything from entire walls to chairs and tables had been reduced to mere splinters. Everything looked as if it had been burned for hours, even though the fire hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes at most. After wandering for what seemed like hours he heard a small clutter and what sounded like a moan from somewhere off to his left. Stumbling along he began to see the faint outline of what must be Crag, laying very still on the ground.

“Crag! Crag are you alright?” Thomas began calling out as he ran to the giant’s side. “Oh please be alive, please be alright.”

Whatever had happened to him had obviously been brutal. Massive chunks had been taken out of his face and torso and little remained of either of his legs except charred fragments. At first he appeared to have already died, surely no human could survive such trauma, but a small stirring of his eyes revealed him to still be alive.

“Thomas, Thomas is that you?” Crag spoke slowly, pieces of his rocky skin breaking off his mouth as it moved.

“Yes Crag. I’m here, I’m alright. What happened? Where is everyone else?”

For a few moments he did not reply but, eventually, he did manage to speak, “Thomas, there is…no time. You have to run. Run now.”

Heaving a deep sigh Crag’s eye’s began to slowly close, Thomas knelt closer and gripped him by the shoulder, “Crag no! Please don’t, stay with me, please!”

It must have taken extraordinary effort but Crag grinned a bit at Thomas, “It’s alright, you will be fine. You are more strong than you cold possibly know.”

“Crag please, not like everyone else, don’t die…too.”

“It’s alright, kid,” Crag reached up and slowly laid his hand on Thomas’ arm, “My ride is just here.”

And with that the kind giant, whom Thomas had come to love as a father, closed his eyes for the last time.

He heard nothing else, the others were surely dead as well. Whatever had come had made Thomas an orphan again.

Had made him alone again.


Within a few minutes he managed to find what remained of Striga. Her small, frail body had clearly not offered the same protection as Crag’s rocky exterior. If it weren’t for the characteristic pendant which still hung from the neck he would never have been able to say the body belonged to Striga. All the features had been burned away from her face, what was left was contorted into an expression of horrible pain and suffering. The thing that had killed her had clearly not made it painless; it had made it as cruel as possible.

Finally exhaustion took him and he collapsed somewhere in the mansion’s gardens, surrounded by debris and shrouded in the thick smoke. He buried his face his hands and just screamed. He screamed out of anger, out of pain, but most of all out of fear.

It was the screaming, however, that brought them down upon him. Footsteps echoed through the smoke and Thomas slowly realized he was no longer alone.

“Well, well,” came a clipped and mature voice from somewhere behind Thomas, “You certainly made yourself easy to find.”

((So sorry about the delay. I thought I had posted something before I left for the weekend, guess I did something wrong in the rush))

Sea-Hawk smiled slightly at Ignus' kind offer and nodded as he spoke, "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to disrupt anything. I certainly hope I haven't caused too much trouble. I just, well, I heard some of the Avengers were located here and I ah...

Realizing he was rambling and the three were giving him an odd look he decided to get to the point.

"You see, I have something that I need examined. I'm not sure if it is magical but, well, I'm just not sure."

Reaching into his pocket he produced a small tattered book and offered it to Ignus. On the faded cover, barely readable through all the creases and tears, was printed The Sea-Hawk

Sea-Hawk took a deep breath and looked at the three faces staring at him. He began to wonder if he had made a mistake coming here, perhaps he had gotten himself in way over his head.

"I didn't mean to disrupt anything...I hope these Trolls weren't my fault."

Taking a deep breath he continued, "I just heard that you, well you all I mean, had an extensive knowledge of all things, ah, magic."

"And, well..."he sighed, "I need help."

"Oh, sorry! I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

Leaning down quickly he helps him to his feet, making sure he's alright to stand on his own.

"I could hear a fight but, well, I kept ending back up in this same spot. I swear these alleys are some kind of maze."

Looking back up the alley Sea-Hawk can see the remnants of the battle, he clearly looks very impressed. His face flashes with embarassment as he realizes he's just standing there and not offering any explaination for his intrustion.

Stuttering over an apology he looks back to the man, "I,well, I've been trying to get some answers. And I, ah, heard about the Midnight Avengers and thought maybe...Maybe you all could help."

Before the other man could speak a low growl from the end of the alley made both quickly turn. There standing in a small shaft of moonlight was a very, very angry looking Ogre...

((Hope its alright but I've got a character who's looking to contact the MA, wanted to do it without OOC, so figured here wasn't a bad place))

Sea-Hawk walked down the dark street by himself. The maze of backalleys had made him become lost after only a few minutes, now he was hoping to just stumble onto his destination.

He wasn't sure where the Midnight Avengers were located, but he knew he was in the right area and he'd find it soon enough. Turning another corner he stepped into the moonlight and realized he'd just walked in another circle.

He sighed a bit, "Sooner or later I'll find them. Then maybe I can finally get an answer..."

*watches the ad and frowns a bit*
Magic Users...

Wish I knew what on earth I was, I mean I could be a magic user. Maybe I should go to them and well, and see if they can help.
*jots down the information*