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Post by Katrina A. Russel on May 21st 2019, 2:31 am

The boy was still walking. And by still, she meant he never stopped. For the last three days, Katrina had followed him, and though exhaustion clung to her like a shroud, she was resolute not to give up on him. The burning fire of willpower was still strong in her, and she refused to let him escape. His powers and his gentle, good nature were important assets for the Blackguard, and Olympus in general. A shining example of what a hero should be, and someone the other members could look up to. Though he was certainly young, she knew he would one day be a great hero, the type that legends are written on.

She shifted from her position across the street, having sat for just a little too long and let her legs go numb. Ugh, she really was getting too old for this. He was a speck on the ground, but so long as he remained in sight, it shouldn’t be an issue to track him, not for him. There was no way in a thousand hells she’d lose him, not after all the trouble it took to track him down again. It was three weeks after the events at the bank in Chicago wrapped up, three very long weeks most of which was spent trying to track him down! He was surprisingly elusive, but eventually, her resources found him just outside of Illinois. A lot of ground to cover in such a short time. And so she watched him, hidden of course, not revealing herself; it wouldn’t due to alienate him, and if she approached him while he was in a bad mood, it would likely sour things further.

Even worse if he remembered any specifics about the bank.

Well, no use in hiding here any longer, she had gathered all the information she could, so nothing more could be gleaned from just watching. She swung her slim legs, shod in heels and tights, over the edge of the apartment building, not caring to even look at the ground at she flung herself over. The wind tugged at her clothes, threatening to rip them from her body for a moment; a flash of gold and she landed without a sound. Quickly she fell into step behind him, following the child, matching him step for step until suddenly she wasn’t. He turned a corner, and rather than follow his exact footsteps, she went the shorter route; up the iron bars, balancing on one foot on each metal spire, and then landing with a graceful right in front of him.

”Revenant. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” She straightened, her long curtain of hair parting to reveal the two very dangerous looking swords and a utility belt filled with more hardware than the average military jet. ”I have a proposition for you. Perhaps we can talk about it over dinner? My treat.” The smile she threw him was genuine and sweet, though it did quite a bit weird on her sharp, elven features. ”There’s a French restaurant I own not too far from. You do require food, yes?” She followed this joke with a laugh like a babbling brook. Now, the outfit she was wearing certainly didn’t hint at anything dangerous; it was a simple skirt and blouse, colored black and red, with thigh-high stockings and loafers. As a matter of fact, were it not for the weaponry hanging at her hip and the smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she could quite easily be mistaken for a schoolgirl.
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Post by FantasyBound on May 22nd 2019, 2:01 am

As Lucas did at any given moment, he walked.
Endlessly…

When he walked like this, he noticed it gave him lot’s of time to think, like why did he walk at a speed that could be considered a slow jog? When he was capable of so much more? Well, he never really liked people freaking out about how fast he was going and that he must be a superhero or something, he didn’t do this to get popular, yet. To be honest, being important was latently put in the back of his head recently, he didn’t understand it too much, just that one day while some guy was trying to beat the shit out of him, he felt the need to shout out in a heroic voice that everyone would be safe as long as he was there. Now that he thought about it more, it felt a little stupid thinking about it, being popular was for those fake heroes, the ones that spent more time in talk shows then on the streets doing good, really, he wanted to do something. Maybe that was it, he just wanted to do something big, gain some recognition… Damn it, his mind kept going back to it, no matter what he did. This made him feel like things were starting to spin a little out of control, what was going on? This was one of the three prominent changes he noticed…
Another thing he noticed was the voices, maybe more alarming if they happened more often, but it seems to only occur once every twelve hours. The words often disturbed him, sometimes they would speak in languages he didn’t know but heard before from other places, one of them spoke in French for sure, and one sounded Greek. There was the occasional English one, and he spoke as you would expect from some freaky medieval film, he would simply say “Be yonder, the blossoming reward, waiting.” or some other bullshit. But then there was one voice, he spoke something so unfamiliar, and he spoke with such power, this voice scared Luke, it was something almost inhuman, ever so alien, like he was from another world, but he knew it was… Human, maybe...

He started making his way towards some alley, he decided to cut to the other side of the street, plus, alleys seemed to hold the roughest stuff in town, he could maybe beat the shit out of some guy who was causing some trouble. Not that he wished he could do that, just that if he chances upon that, better now then when he wasn't there.

Then, out of nowhere, some girl dropped in front of him. He stopped moving, and just raised an eyebrow, what was this child doing jumping in front of big scary guys? She began by addressing his name, which he was about to say something until she moved her long hair back a bit, that’s when he noticed she seemed to have a sword, and a crap ton of gadgetry, now he just was a little concerned, who the fuck carries a sword in public…

Say’s the guy with the axe strapped to his back...

She then offered to make some sort of proposition to him over dinner at some French restaurant, before making some joke about him requiring food. Now, Luke felt this was relatively a strange situation. Here he was checking if he was going nuts, and then some school girl with a sword and more gadgets on her belt then Iha’s body jumps in front of him and asks him if he wants to talk about something over dinner. He had a lot of questions himself, but decided to wait for later, he felt like this was going good so far,

” Well I must admit, most people who say my name like that usually try and rip me apart right afterward alongside some idiotic monologue about how they want to rule the world or some shit like that. So I do like the change of pace here. I am interested to hear what you gotta say, as long as it ain’t about none of that supervillain bullshittery, I will go along with this. And wait… Own?”

He was pretty confused by what she said there, how strange for a child to be in possession of such expensive things like that...

He could tell this was gonna be a great day.

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Post by Katrina A. Russel on May 28th 2019, 6:09 am

”Yes, own. I may look to be in my teens, but I’m nearly fourty years old.” Not a dramatic number, but enough of one to elicit surprise. ”Do keep up.I would hate to have a conversation with myself.” She took off at a brisk pace, winding through the complicated series of streets without once glancing at a street sign, as if she had it memorized. Of course she did. Katrina was very protective of her things. Though the walk was spent in silence, it wasn’t very long, and they soon came to the golden doors of a restaurant. L’Enchante Cuisine was above the door. Seeing her approach, the maitre de opened the door for her and her guest.

The inside was spectacular, as could only be expected, but devoid of guests. More than a slow day, however, as there was only one table on the floor, set with two chairs and a glass of wine. At this table, Katrina sat, ignoring the opulent surroundings and impatiently gesturing at the assembled wait staff to leave. This was a private conversation they were about to have. Pausing only long enough to sip the wine - 1874, a good year - she fixed her intense gaze on Revenant.

”Let me start by saying I have no intention of taking advantage of you o the benefits your flesh may or may not provide. My interest is in you and your merit as a hero, not on your powers. We would be here regardless of what you could do. Now that’s handled …” She offered her hand, a slim thing with nails painted a sparkling shade of blue. ”Introductions are in order. Introduce yourself, and then we shall order food and get down to business, hmm? I, personally, am famished.”

It was a comfortable, relaxed front she was putting out to him, because that’s what people like him reacted to. Good people, kind people. They don’t appreciate intensity, honesty of character. They’d prefer to think everybody was nice and kind and sweet, ignoring the evil and sickness in the world. But that was why he was here. His powers were a huge draw, yes, but also his strength of force. A vivid memory flashed in her brain, this hero bursting through the wall, limbs dangling at his side as he injured himself to try to save the captured civilians. Blackguard needed that kind of open honesty, that goodness of character. It would keep them on the straight and narrow and remind them what they’re fighting for.
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Post by FantasyBound on June 8th 2019, 2:39 am

Forty… Either this was some well-conceived trick, or maybe some sort of power she has, magic isn’t out of the question either though, or even some tech; in a world like this, anything was possible. He was pretty surprised that she owned a restaurant, even if that was something of the least impressive things about her so far; he remembered how badly he wanted to own his own restaurant when he required food back in the day, but it didn’t take long for him to realize that restaurant would go out of business if he would eat there for free, eating so much had its disadvantages like that. He had those memories, eating, damn, been a while since something passed to his stomach to just be later turned to molecules and extra blood. Heck, he hasn’t used a washroom in maybe… Months, yeah, maybe a bit over a year;
while, not for its intended purpose, he uses them often to clean up after a fight, the nastier the better to hide bloodstains, or hopefully they just blend into the others. She asked him to keep up, so he went close behind, just not too close. He kept his distance, not just because he didn’t feel like being called a creep by some asshole with no context of the situation, but he felt like he remembered her and not in any sort of positive manner, he sort of, mildly, felt he saw that face before…

No way, this wasn’t her, semblance for sure in the facial structure, otherwise, she was basically completely different, but the idea still scared him a little; almost as much as the memory of the maggots. Her pace was in a hasty rush, one that winded down what felt like half the streets in this part of the city; she never looked at anything other than straight ahead, she had a determined stride that suggested a commanding aura, this lady had something to her, if Lucas could summarize it, it would be regality, and not the stereotypical kind, someone who deserves there spot in this world because they have a solid head on there shoulders and the right motivations backing them. They made it to some really fancy restaurant, there even was some guy to hold the door open for them. In reality, the walk wasn’t long, but it was quiet. Once the two of them made it in, Lucas raised his eyebrows a bit to the inside, probably the nicest place he has ever been in, hands down; he noticed it was devoid of guests, was this exclusive? And damn, did those staff move quick when she showed up, spectacular how they acted in haste to leave the two alone. He quickly sat to the table, carefully, and placed his hands underneath, the tablecloth was so nice he didn’t want to mess it up with his dirty coat… Which he just remembered he had not taken it off at the table, so he removed it quickly while sitting down, showing his rarely seen black tank top and reasonably strong build, well above average for sure, but in a world like this, he was just another fish in the sea.

She finished sipping her wine, he just looked at his wondering what the hell he should do, before she began talking and he met her eyes, yup, definitely the leader type. She opened up saying how she didn’t intend on using him just for his superhuman abilities, which surprised him, but he also didn’t believe her, no matter how sincere she looked nobody did a deal like that without such a powerful backing like his abilities. He wanted to say something, but decided to not be a prick and kept it to himself. Once she asked for introductions, he looked at the table, and then at his hands while he sat down, oh, his whole body was so dirty, as did when somebody barely bathes, he rinsed himself by a sprinkler about two days ago, but in full honesty that wasn’t near enough to clear the grime on his being. He would quickly grab the napkin, so clean it bothered him, and wiped his hands with the edges of it, they seemed to be close enough to reason, so he went on to rub some dirt off of his face before placing the cloth down. He then shook her hand and tried to start the introduction,

”Hmm… I will assume you want my real name? It’s… Uh… Oh frick… Well, I know my first name is Lucas, some people used to call me Luke, and my last name is…”

He looked around the restaurant, it’s been so long since he’s used his real last name he sort of, maybe, forgot it a bit…

”Ah! Blanc, Lucas James Blanc. Sorry, been a really long time since I used that name.”

He would do a quick nod of his head and look up, oh, how so pathetic and embarrassing that was. Now for the food...

” Really, Ma’am, I no longer require food, some damn staff changed up a lot about how my body works. But I can still process and taste food, so really, order me whatever passes your mind.”

To be honest, he didn’t know any French food, so he was just hoping she would order something interesting that wasn’t snails for him.

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Post by Katrina A. Russel on June 25th 2019, 12:23 am

”Lucas James Blanc ….”

She said the name once, trying it out. It was a strong name, a good name, fitting of a hero. And this kid, he was definitely a hero, albeit a burnt out, dirty sort. The restaurant would definitely need to sanitize these seats afterwards, but that’s the price you pay for power. The revelation that he doesn’t eat was a surprise to her; what a power it must be, to ignore the very laws of nature and physics that drives all animals. They could learn much from him … but she promised he wasn’t a science experiment. Save that for a different date. She waved the waiter away, only ordering a glass of wine for herself and a sparkling water for Revenant- or Lucas, as she would call him. As they waited, Katrina trained her eyes once again upon the young man in front of her.

”Let us get down to brass tacks, shall we?” From under the table, she pulled a folder, simply labeled “Project Blackguard”. It was nearly empty, only containing a few sheets of paper; a bare dossier, as it was. She passed this over to him. ”Within this folder, you will find all the information you need to know, and all that I can tell you as of this moment. Should you join Blackguard, well … that’s a different story.” A shadow of a smirk appeared on her face, aimed at him. In that moment, the waiter returned, pouring her wine and settling the fizzing, lemon-lime drink in front of the boy. She sipped her blood-red drink, the liquid slightly staining her lips as she sighed in contentment.

The file contained three sheets of paper. The first was a photocopied newspaper clipping, relatively new, dating to only two months prior. The headline was in another language, with the translation underneath: ”Revolution over, put down by paramilitary forces. The article went on to state that a mysterious group of individuals in black uniforms were seen near the Rebels headquarters before the leader of the rebellion gave himself up. The state forces were currently hunting the remaining pockets of resistance, and peace could finally return to the region. Underneath the headline, a blurry outline of three individuals in black armor, two men and a female leading them.

The second was a mission statement, outlining “Blackguard”. It was an idealistic one, but practical enough to ring true. A group to handle the threats the world could not, to secretly and professionally dispose and contain threats that could impose instability in the economy, to preserve world peace through discret and oft immoral ways. They were not above the law; rather, they were given an immunity to the law to preserve the foundation upon which society was imposed. They were aiming to be a different sort of organization, a perfect one, or as close to perfect as possible.

And the third, and final, slip of paper was simply a picture; a picture, specifically, of Revenant, at the bank they had both unknowingly been thinking of. Not a flattering picture, stolen from the security cameras inherit to those types of institutions, it nonetheless pictures him mid-heal, with the shattered remains of his arm stitching itself up. Scrawled across the picture were words, observations mostly, about his powers, his habits and hobbies she managed to observe from him. The locations listed, and what he did there - punctuated in such ways as Chicago: walked 4-7AM, saved passerby 730, walked - were places he was at weeks and even months ago, immediately after the bank incident. She had been following him this entire time, learning of him, marking down his habits and his personality.

She spoke then, painted fingers holding the wine glass delicately in one hand. The liquid inside twirled with the movement of her hand in an almost hypnotic manner, coming close to the edge of the glass but never spilling. Her gaze was equally hypnotic, sapphire-like eyes glistening with a deep flame.

”You are special, Lucas, and worth so much more than some vagabond traveling from town to town, hoping to get lucky and fight crime. You deserve more. That fight in the bank proved it.” She gestured to the picture, putting her cup down with a clink in the process. ”It was incredible. Despite overwhelming odds, you attempted to help civilians, people you barely know … and suffered as a result. That’s the mark of a true hero.” She sipped the wine again, letting her words sink in. ”Truth of the matter is, Lucas, we need someone like you. An experienced hero with a good heart.” She let this sentence hang in the empty room, the crackling of the fireplace punctuating her statement and the look in her eyes spelling the intensity with which she believed this.
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A Different Kind of Monster [Closed] Empty "Well… You know, I just got to say yes to this."

Post by FantasyBound on July 19th 2019, 1:11 am

She tested his name, how interesting it was to hear it again, when she said it he almost replied again, like an idiot, desperate to remember how he even forgot it. Things weren’t really straight up in his mind, and not just from the maggot infestation, he has been noticing little things going wrong up there, things that shouldn’t happen start happening. It started with an inherent misconception of what was going on, not like ‘oh, that’s a thing?’ when referring to some weird supernatural source, no, he was shocked by tree sap. Then it started showing up by making some memories harder to remember, or even completely forget; could it be he has had his head blasted off too many times? No, some of these traits were from his childhood, before he gained a superhuman healing factor, before his blood had been boiled by radiation, before magic from a blood staff swirled his insides back into existence. He wasn’t okay, but didn’t let that get in the way of others, but was he actually fine? Maybe all this is normal, or how does he know this is normal? It could just be a trick, was he breaking free of its control?

Nah, that was stupid, he’s just, collecting. These cylinders won’t gather themselves of course, and this was perfectly normal, other people collected bottle caps, or stamps, or bottles, he just likes collecting these cylinders. Currently, he has eight of these small things, roughly only a bit bigger than a human thumb, hidden inside of himself, nobody should be closer to them than himself, they where his of course.

Lucas snapped back into the meeting when he got a file handed over to him, the quick explanation was vague and made him curious, so he looked up, gave a small nod and began going through the papers. This was, both incredibly unsettling and interesting, first of all, this was likely the most interesting stalker he ever encountered, and then this Blackguard thing. It was, something he was looking for, and when she explained just wandering around, it really hit home, he really was just wandering around, kind of hoping he could make a difference; with this, he was capable of doing it, and apparently to an extreme scale. He would have his hand rest over his mouth, looking over the papers a second time.

”Well… You know, I just got to say yes to this. This is, beyond anything I would ever wish for Ms… What is your name?”

He would look up, realizing his blunder in the scenario, a bit embarrassed, but mostly flustered from the incredible offer just given to him, he gave a bit of an awkward smile, best he could give now.

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Post by Katrina A. Russel on August 19th 2019, 10:40 pm

”My name is Katrina Russel, James. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

She shook his hand, her slim fingers painted blue, a sharp contrast to her otherwise unpainted features and professional attire. His acceptance was expected, but it still brought a wave of relief to her. Nowadays, people could be so unpredictable, and if he had said no, her backup plan involved a group of soldiers and mind-erasing technology. Only, mind-erasing technology is all experimental, so he’d be in captivity for months or years while they perfected. Better for everyone that he said yes.

She stood, and immediately their waiter came back out, grabbing the bottle of wine and all their leftovers, dragging it away. Katrina didn’t spare him a glance; not out of disrespect, but she was simply far too preoccupied with her own thoughts, the potential for the team she was growing here, to be distracted. With James - no, with Revenant, she had to forcibly remind herself- the Blackguard can for real and truly begin. Like adding glue to the pieces of carefully-constructed paper, it was soon to be complete. She stood, the legs of the chair dragging against the ground, leaving her wine glass where it was, almost entirely ignored.

”From this moment on, you will be Blackguard … Phoenix. Yes, very fitting.” The last part was more to herself than to him. ”We’ll do formal introductions later. For now, we need you in New York.” She placed a card, with nothing more than a codename, “Blackguard Asset”, and an address on it. When he looked up, she was gone.
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