Realistic or Modern [ 𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙊𝙀𝙎 ]

[christy]

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[div class="tab tabone"]welcome

[div class="tab tabtwo"]E.L.I.T.E[/div] [div class="tab tabthree"]guardians[/div] [div class="tab tabfour"]important[/div] [div class=titleslide]

chapter one:
soul guardians

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"Welcome to the E.L.I.T.E task force."

That's what Wallace Blackburn told you the last time you spoke, because there's no way for the two of you to meet with that meeting ending with Blackburn not getting what he wants. Just two weeks ago you accepted to sign on to this task force, to use your powers for the good of the world, no matter how good or bad you've been in your life up to now. This is your chance to make a difference, and Blackburn strongly believes that the task force will bring a change to the way the world works -- and hopefully reduce crime rates by a large amount.

Yesterday, you received a package with files on all the other members of the force. Today morning, a man or woman arrived at your doorstep in a black suit, in order to drive you to E.L.I.T.E's London base -- or drive you to the nearest air field where a private jet took you there instead, in case you're outside England.

You all arrive at similar times, maybe minutes apart, and you're shown to a meeting room that is as grand as the rest of the base -- from what you've seen so far, at least.

Blackburn isn't there yet. He likes to show up late.

Or maybe he just wants to see how his little team of misfits interacts with each other first.

Welcome to the E.L.I.T.E task force.

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you're a group of eight people. a lot of you have your differences. some of you may not even get along. some of you may even know each other prior to this gathering. either way, you were all selected for certain talents you could bring to this group.

the strategist

is andrew kozlow
played by chamomile

the psychic

is samirah katsifaras
played by @Lunaa

the brains

is auriand calliste
played by rosebubbles

the stealth

is clarisse reyes
played by ShadyAce

the brawn

is jared durand
played by Digit

the mediator

is irene bowman
played by nuas

the medic

is sage powell
played by ebb

the actor

is marina dyer
played by nymphadora.

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SOUL GUARDIANS

what are soul guardians, you ask? simply put, they are a person you are bound to. a partner. someone you look out for and someone who always has your back.

once wallace blackburn made his choices, he came up with the concept to enhance the quality of team work. when all of you arrived for the very first meeting with wallace blackburn, after accepting his offer (or being forced to), he injected you with a tracker, in your forearm. of course, he has to keep an eye on his merry band of misfits. but what none of you know (yet) is that every two trackers are unique. with the press of a button, it will inject a dye into your skin, which creates a pattern similar to that of a tattoo. those with matching tattoos are each other's soul guardians.

the tracker allows the two people bound as soul guardians to communicate with each other telepathically, should they choose to. it also alerts the other in cases of bodily harm. if one gets stabbed, the other will feel the same pain for a few moments, though will not receive a similar wound. it's just a sensation.

should one soul guardian die, the tattoo on the other soul guardian's arm will disappear. similarly, should one somehow remove their tracker, the tattoo will disappear on the other.

without further ado, here are the bound pairs, as chosen specifically by wallace blackburn, for various particular reasons, along with the tattoo that appears on your arm, and the team name wallace has assigned to your pair, since certain training missions will be team based:

team aqua

marina dyer (the actor)
x
andrew kozlow (the strategist)

team ignatia

jared durand (the brawn)
x
irene bowman (the mediator)

team ventus

auriand calliste (the brains)
x
samirah katsifaras (the psychic)

team terra

sage powell (the medic)
x
clarisse reyes (the stealth)

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NEED TO KNOW INFO:
- you all were recruited within days of each other, and approximately 2 weeks before the present day.
- you all received a file on the other members which included their: name, alias, age and power description.
- you were all injected with your tracker when you were picked up by your personal E.L.I.T.E chauffeur, but none of you know your soul guardians yet. you have however, been briefed about what a soul guardian is, and that you would be assigned one.

have a great first day. training begins soon.

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[christy]

samirah katsifaras, aka, oracle

Using her powers to work for a mysterious man that she knew nothing about was not something Sam ever imagined herself doing. But then again, as a child, she didn't think she'd ever have powers. She didn't think her holier-than-thou father would abuse her. She didn't think that very same father would take any chance he could to get rid of her. She'd been proven wrong many times in the past. At this point, she knew better than to be surprised.

Still, she wasn't expecting what she saw when she was driven through the gates of E.L.I.T.E's London Base. She'd been told what they do, even if she still hadn't bothered to learn the full form of their name, but she didn't realise how much land they had. It was invisible to people from the outside, but the moment they crossed through the gate, Sam could see it all. And to think, that for a moment, she assumed she was being led to her execution. After all, she spent a majority of her life stealing from various people. Wallace Blackburn could just be one of those many people she crossed, and he was now finding a way to pay her back for it. That wouldn't be very surprising.

But no, this wasn't death. Not yet, anyway. This was... new. And big. And most definitely one of the biggest facilities she'd ever set her eyes on. Sam didn't have much to compare it to, since she had never really set foot out of England, but she was still confident that there weren't many other organisations that were as large scale as this.

"Well, shit," she muttered, glancing from the window to the man that drove the car. "How does anyone even find their way around here?"

The man, as he had been through the entire journey, remained silent. But Sam didn't really have it in her to stay quiet for so long so of course, even though she got the hint, it didn't stop her from attempting to get a word out of him. When he failed to respond yet again, she just rolled her eyes and stared back out the window. The car eventually rolled around to the front of one of the many buildings in the area. It looked the nicest, with wide glass doors and decorative shrubbery surrounding the pathways outside. A woman was already standing on the curb. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt and a deep blue blouse that was tucked in neatly. Her blonde hair was piled atop her head in a neat bun and she was... tall. But for Sam, almost everyone was tall.

She seemed to be waiting for the car to stop before she opened Sam's door for her. "Oh, thanks," Sam got out of the car and attempted to move to the back to get her luggage but the woman stopped her.

"Oh, don't worry about that. It'll be taken to your room," she said, offering a smile.

Sam didn't have more than one duffel bag anyway since it wasn't like she had a lot to bring so she simply shrugged and followed the woman as she gestured to follow. She didn't have a name tag so Sam wasn't sure what to call her.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked curiously as she was led into the building. It was even more impressive on the inside. The walls were lined with portraits of people Sam didn't recognise, but she assumed it was meant to be like a 'Hall of Fame'.

"The Grand Hall," the woman replied, without turning back. She didn't seem keen on offering more information than that and Sam wondered why they were so tight-lipped. Sam was a part of this whole thing now as much as they were, wasn't she? Nevertheless, she didn't ask anything further, for the time being.

The hallway was long, and silent, with only the sound of the woman's heels clacking against the marble floor, a sound that was much more sophisticated than Sam's combat boots thudding squeaking against the floor with each step she took. She felt like she was tracking in dirt even though she hadn't stepped in any mud. Sam was definitely out of place there, but, well, Blackburn contacted her for a reason after all.

Finally, they reached the end of the hallway where they turned and were met by a set of large, wooden double doors. It opened as soon as a retina scan of the woman was done, and she led Sam inside. The Grand Hall was grand indeed.

Plush red sofas sat in the middle of the room, opposite a large fireplace. There was no need for it in the daytime though, and sunlight streamed into the room through large, wall length windows, which gave a great view of the rest of the compound. Statues lined the edges of the room, and between each one was a wooden pedestal that held either a bust or a crystal curio of some sort. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling and a long table sat between the arrangement of sofas with an assortment of appetizers -- none of which Sam recognised. She was more used to the peanuts given out at bars.

"You're the first to arrive," the woman told her after a moment, and Sam shoved her hands into the pockets of her dark jeans before turning to look at her. "The others will arrive shortly so stay put." She said it with a smile, but her tone was clear -- don't do anything stupid and don't wander.

With those final words, she left. And Sam already felt restless.

She shrugged out of her leather jacket and tossed it onto the back of one of the sofas, now leaving her in the tank top she had on underneath. She tapped her fingers against her thighs while she walked around the room, inspecting each of the marble busts. They had names, but Sam didn't recognise any of them. Though she was sure she wasn't supposed to touch anything, she couldn't really help herself. She picked up a vase from one pedestal to inspect it. She poked a plant in one corner to see if its thorns were as sharp as they looked. And after drawing some blood, she walked over to another bust that looked vaguely familiar.

Sam paused in sucking the blood from her finger to inspect the name on the bust.

Wallace Blackburn I.

"Damn," Sam whistled and attempted to pick the bust up to see how big it was. Only, at that moment, the doors opened again, startling sam, and causing her to drop the bust. As expected, it cracked. And the head slowly rolled away from the body -- or whatever the bottom half of a bust was called. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Great first impression for whoever walked through that door.


location: the grand hall
tagss: n/a
outfit: [ x ]

 

[chamomile]

ANDREW

❝ first day of school all over again ❞

the orphan ✦ amused ✦ outfit ✦ the grand hall
mentions: N/A.
tags: @Lunaa

Wallace Blackburn was a convoluted man, Andrew knows as much from a fresh first hand experience.

He wasn't expecting London, flown across the ocean and now completely separated from network, connections, and his car. It'll throw him off; the new city, the people, the social norms. An American like him would stick out like a sore thumb.

While he was on the way, Andrew googled every single file he got though only one name turned up any results. No pictures, no leads, no plan. He could always practice winging it.

"End of the hallway."

"Thanks."

Andrew's already marvelled at the vastness of the place, the architecture and splendor. It's charming. He supposed, elite.

A large set of double doors waited for him around the corner and just as he opened it— thud, crack. Stone. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He'd witness a girl dropping a huge bust leading to its decapitated demise.

Silent gasp, a glance at the culprit and back on the crime scene. Oh, someone's already gotten themselves into trouble.

"That looks," he stared at the marble head broken clean off rolling away to find someone to tell on, "expensive."

He's grinning now, incredulously and glanced back at the hallway to see if anyone heard the noise. Andrew closed the door behind him and picked up the head. Blackburn, of course.

She's barely moved. Short, pretty, in an outfit that says she's rebellious but she clearly didn't break that on purpose. And, crystal rings— "Samirah, right?"

"Just Sam is fine." Andrew could practically hear the puzzled look on her face.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." he smiled, returning the head next to its stump and wandered off, heading for the table of appetizers.

"Your turn psychic," he said. "Guess me."

He pointed to the leather jacket on the back of a sofa, mouthed 'ooh that's nice' to her and took a seat. Same tastes in attire, though he's sporting a Christmas sweater just to lighten things up. He popped a bacon wrapped date in his mouth, turned to her with eyebrows raised and a toothpick to prompt her with.

Who's it gonna be?

black space

 

[christy]

samirah katsifaras, aka, oracle

The guy who stepped into the room wasn't someone that Sam recognised, but he also wasn't that woman that led her hear, which made her sigh in relief. She'd just broken the bust of Wallace Blackburn or some great ancestor of his and she'd rather pretend nothing happened by slowly putting it back and acting like it fell on its own. She gave a sheepish smile to the dark haired male that walked in -- he was obviously here for the same reason as her. The woman had said that everyone would be arriving shortly after all.

"It's probably peanuts for them, I mean have you seen this place?" She gestured around with both hands to emphasise her point before picking the bottom of the bust and putting it back on the pedestal while the guy picked up the head. It occurred to her that while she knew everyone's names, she did not know what they looked like, so she didn't know who this was. Yet. It was probably be the easiest for her to find out, compared to the rest of them, although she did have to touch them, or something they owned, or be in the same room long enough to actually acquire that information.

So she was surprised when he was able to guess who she was almost immediately. "I-- yeah. But just Sam is fine," she told him when he guessed correctly. Sam returned her hands to the pockets of her jeans while walking to the nearest couch to sit down on it as he did the same after grabbing an appetizer. He was either adventurous, or had eaten this kind of food before, because Sam couldn't tell what anything was, really.

Sam smirked when he asked her to guess who he was. "You do know I have an advantage, right?" If he already guessed who she was, that meant that he knew what she was capable of. But she couldn't do it from across the room, so she got up, walking over to the appetizer table since it was behind him, and stopped there, using her position as an opportunity to graze her fingers against the surface of the back of his leather jacket. It was barely a second, and would probably barely be felt, but it was enough to get a name. Names were usually the first thing she got, so she was lucky, because it was all she needed to guess what he was capable of.

"You're Andrew," she spoke, grinning and turning to the appetizer table for real this time, before picking up something that looked like a biscuit with cheese on top. "You're the smoke bloke," she said, facing him momentarily. She was quite pleased that she'd been able to come up with something that rhymed. "Gotta say, your power's pretty cool," she told him, grabbing another biscuit. That shit was actually good.


location: the grand hall
tags: andrew [ chamomile ]
outfit: [ x ]

 

[nymphadora.]

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[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]with

andrew + sam.
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]tags

chamomile @Lunaa
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]location

the grand hall.
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]outfit[/div] outfit. [/div][/div]

[div class=title1]marina.

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"Just one quick smoke, then I'll go."
"Get in the car, miss."

There was a part of her that was begging for her to run. For the last few years, all she ever did was run, now it was just habit at that point. Yet, with the chilly London wind blowing through her thick hair and the chauffeur's squinted eyes staring at her, Nina sighed and slipped into the back seat of the car. She would just have to have a smoke break later.

The world that flew passed her wasn't home; she felt like a fish out of water watching it go by, her fingers clawing the oversized (stolen) jacket that hardly fit her properly. Nina was dreading the moment the car would slow down to a halt, and she would have to leave the comfy leather seat of the car. The silver files Blackburn gave Nina were kindly ignored once they were in her care, she didn't have much interest in what she was roped into. It wasn't like she had much of a choice either, perhaps if she wasn't so cocky that night, Nina wouldn't be trapped in London. A bitter smile grew on her lips, matched with a dry chuckle, she could hear her father's voice echo in the back of her mind: Faith in God includes faith in His timing."

Well, that was utter bullshit.

The sounds of the secretary's -- or what Nina assumed was a secretary -- reverberated clicks of her heels was enough to cause Nina's shoulders to tense and her jaw clench together. Truthfully, she was nervous about what lurked inside the clean walls and sterile, never-ending hallways. "Cool building," Nina mused absentmindedly, her dark eyes studying the design of the hallways. There wasn't much to observe, besides the odd photo of Blackburn, portraits of employees and engraved metal plaques with the rooms' name. Nina noticed the lack of vibrance within the hallway, which almost made her feel like she was in a hospital rather some top-secret, elite whatever they called themselves.

"Through here." The woman sharply spun around to face the brown-haired open before strutting off to something else, possibly more important than her. With a long breath, Nina took a moment to herself. Her fingers hovered over the meaningless cross that sat on her chest, feeling the icy gold of the necklace. This was it; once she stepped through those doors, she was going to be a superhero— of sorts.

With a big shove, Nina pushed through the doors and grasped onto the last part of the conversation. Her eyes lit up by the nickname; glancing up and down once at each person. One was a lanky figure of a woman with a grin of her lips, and the other was an old friend.

"Smoke bloke? That's new." Nina smirked lazily, moving towards the couch. Her feet stopped just short of behind the couch, her upper body resting against the top of the pillows. Her eyebrow rose curiously as Nina studied the girl from her spot, "got any other nicknames yet?"

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[nuas]

Irene Bowman

LOCATION: Grand Hall
OUTFIT: x
MENTIONS: Andrew, Sam, & Marina
TAGS: N/A​

“Have you worked for Blackburn long?” Irene asked.

She gave the driver a soft smile when his eyes flickered towards her in the middle mirror. The man, who looked to be in his forties, only shook his head before returning his attention to the road.

'What a great conversationalist,’ She thought.

Irene sighed and began to slump in her seat a bit. It was only for a moment before she remembered herself and corrected her posture. In other circumstances, she would not have cared for such a thing. But meeting Wallace Blackburn left a lasting impression on her. He was an enigmatic man and knew how to work it to his advantage. It brought a flush of red to Irene’s face when she remembered how she was practically hugging the bar when they first met.

At the time, Irene could not believe a wealthy, suited man would waltz in a hole-in-the-wall bar. Surely, there were far better places that fit his tastes. He looked like the type to drop a 100k on wine. It was as if he was some omniscient God that decided to grace his presence among the mortals.

Irene could hardly contain her surprise when he settled beside her on the stool and spoke to her. He was very polite and she felt herself become at ease with his presence. It was nothing but the usual formalities, the type of ones you could answer on auto-pilot. She was halfway through polishing her glass, when he began to start telling her bits about her past. This resulted in her almost choking on the amber liquid as she looked at him in surprise.

She tried to get up and walk away, but her body swayed with jolted movements and her arms and legs felt far too heavy. She was in no shape to be getting up and if she had, she would not have gotten very far. A man like this most likely had some guards with him. Irene swore to herself she would never get that drunk again, but it was empty words at that point. There will always be a reason for her to drink and if there was not one, she would make one up. Irene wondered how long had he been following her. How long did he wait for her to get drunk before swooping in like a vulture?

Blackburn was a true wordsmith, he knew exactly what he was going to say and did not spare a moment hesitation. He had this forceful nature about himself, it was not overbearing but you knew this man held power. He seemed to be the type of man you just agreed to do what he wanted. Although, Irene wondered if she had enough wits about her then, what he would have done if she had declined? Continue following her? Blackmail her? Irene frowned, perhaps it was good that she did not find out.

The car began driving through the gates of the E.L.I.T.E’s London Base. Irene peered out of the window, her mouth dropping a bit. It was massive and if the picture of wealth Blackburn exuded did not convince her before, it sure did now. It felt like the type of stuff you would see in movies or read in books. How could someone own that much money to afford this? Irene settled back into her seat, her hands beginning to fidget and trace the lines on her plaid dress.

It was not long before the car came to a stop in front of the organization. The driver got out of the car and opened Irene's door, letting his hand out for Irene to take. She shot him a quick smile in gratitude before he moved to the trunk to grab her things.

“Mrs. Bowman?” A woman’s voice asked. Irene turned around and was met with a tall, blonde woman. Irene shifted in her black heels, which made her a good four inches taller than her natural 5' 2". Still this woman made her feel like a dwarf. Was it this woman's height that made her feel that or the stern gaze she had?

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Welcome, Mrs. Bowman.” The woman said, before smiling. “Please follow me.”

Irene nodded before following the woman. It felt surreal to be walking inside a facility so large and especially to be working in one. The hallways were long and held portraits of various employees. They was even one of Blackburn himself, which was not surprising. Didn't rich men like that sort of thing? She passed by a few people, who wore suits that looked expensive. They blended in with the strict, sterile environment which made Irene feel out of place. A straight posture was certainly not enough to help her fit in.

“Did anyone arrive before me?”

“Yes, a few.” The woman said, before she stopped in front of a door. “It’s through there.”

Irene nodded before pulling the door open, the woman disappearing down the corridor. She stepped through with a bit of hesitation. While the initial impression of the facility was cold and sterile, this room had a warmer, human touch to it. It still screamed wealth and Irene did not want to touch anything in fear of breaking something. Irene’s eyes swept across the impressive room, before settling on three people near each other. She first noticed the dark haired woman with strong eyebrows draping herself over the back of the couch. Then the woman who was eating a biscuit. She had dark hair as well and appeared much shorter than even Irene was. Lastly, was a smug looking dark haired male. She had only caught the tail end of their conversation, something about nicknames. Irene gave a weak wave when she captured their attention.

She had no clue who exactly they were; the files Blackburn had given on the members did not say very much other than names and powers. Before Blackburn, Irene spared no thought about others having abilities like her. It came with a strange sense of pride that Blackburn saw her as good enough to be slotted with these people. She never thought of herself as special and she wondered if they had similar feelings as well.

Irene walked to the back of the room, a platter of many appetizers. Most of them she had never seen and there were even few she could not pronounce. Irene settled on eating a spring roll. The warmth of the food helped calm her nerves.

code by spidey

 

[ebb]

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Sage Powell
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Stepping out of the airport was like stepping into a snowglobe that had just been bounced on the floor.

Pedestrians pushed their way past Sage as he stood in the doorway that allowed him to escape from the foggy underground tram that brought him from the airport gate. Skirting to the side, he plopped his bag down gratefully. He was about three seconds away from dropping it on somebody’s foot. The air pressure from the plane made every ache and pain in his body double. He’d been using his power more frequently to prepare for this trip, and it showed- all the swirling toxic energy he’d absorbed over the past weeks was bubbling in his gut.

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳​

“Thank you,” he beamed at the suited man loading his bags into the back of a sleek black car. He’d only had to wait a few seconds before being found, not surprising considering who was responsible for trip. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he settled into the back seat, grateful to not be commuting on one of the busses that clogged the roadways.

Under any other circumstances, Sage would be ecstatic. As someone who’d spent their life in the cradle of smaller communities, being in London filled his mind with new possibilities. He propped his elbow into the window frame, craning and stretching to hungrily eat in the scenery. There were only two things that stopped the smile on his face from being more than a slight upturn. First: he already felt the limitations of his physical abilities and the fact that he couldn’t phone a friend if he needed something. Staring down at his phone, he blinked at the “no signal” icon.

Second, he wasn’t sure why someone like Blackburn would take interest in him. His abilities had been useful on a small scale, but what did the man have in mind for him? Whatever the case, he was honored and excited to begin something new - to meet new people and uncover a side of the world that he had yet to experience. Not many had this opportunity and he vowed to not waste the trip. Reminding himself of this, he leaned forward to grin sleepily at the driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” he yawned. “I’m great at getting around normally, but this city is a whole other thing. I mean, I can barely see the sky, I don’t know how I’d make heads or tails of these streets.” The driver didn’t respond, but Sage figured he was too busy focusing on not crashing, the lanes here were far narrower than back home.

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳​

Sage took his time approaching the grand hall. He paused to stare up at the portraits and run his fingers along the expensive wooden furnishings, unbothered by the urgency of the tall woman walking ahead of him.

“The others are waiting,” she urged impatiently.

The others.

Entering the hall, he turned around the room to stare curiously at the people populating it. He’d read their files and crafted an image of what each of them would act and be like, picturing how they’d talk and gesture. Trying to match them to the files, he faintly realized he should stop staring before they noticed him looking. He wanted to sample the food lining the wall, but the queasiness in his stomach warned him not to. Vomiting wouldn’t make the best first impression.

Despite the people already laying claim on the sofa, his jetlag was enough motivation to approach anyways. Surely if they were all recruited by Blackburn, there was nothing to worry about. Sliding onto the nearby ottoman, squinted at Andrew’s sweater.

“Happy holidays,” he commented, more to himself than anyone in the room.

“Hello guys, hope you’re all doing well- I know it was a long flight over for me, but that was mostly because my layover ended up being just shy of three hours. It’s surreal to be here in London but I’m sure we’ll all adjust,” he said long windedly, settling his hands into his lap. “I’m Sage. I can’t wait to get to know all of you and begin working together,” he finished earnestly.

[/div]


[/div]

 

[rosebubbles]

[div class=container][div class=image][/div] [div class=blk][div class=title]AURIAND L. CALLISTE. [div class=line][/div] [div class=lil]the brains.[/div][/div] [div class=b][div class=lilimage][/div][/div] [div class=info] [div class=post][div class=scroll] "i don't have time to fetch a bucket of water to dump on you." the stoic mused to his unresponsive chauffeur. by the twinge of distaste he saw in the rear-view mirror, the driver, still stuporous, however, was not pleased. auriand lachele calliste sunk his canines into his soft bottom lip, drawing dark crimson in contrast to the lush pink color, much like he was sinking his teeth into this possibly touch-and-go circumstance. for all he knew, the government was going to jail him for his vigilante justice; god knows there have been posters around his area about his alter-ego, corvid. the mayor did not like how he was dealing with the crime in his town. maybe he finally got desperate and just alerted the canadian government, and auriand, clear-criminal-record auriand, was going to prison to rot. shit.

so, imagine his startle when he arrived at a large faculty looking building. forgetting his stupor and concerns about this being a prison trick, he exited the car to collect his belongings, before the chauffeur finally spoke. "don't fret about it, mr. calliste. your bags will be brought in." auriand, though tempted, bit back his response of 'i don't need help, thanks', and simply nodded with a straight look. he surveyed the building for a bit longer. so, this is were his teammates would be, along with him. teammates. what a strong word, he preferred to call them 'accomplices'. corvid worked alone- so did auriand. he'd looked at their files, and very few of them seemed particularly powerful. then again, auriand had learned not to underestimate people; he learned from experience.

auriand loitered for a moment before a blonde woman in smart attire approached him. even at his 6'0" height, auriand found her a small bit imposing. he registered her for a moment, and confirmed she was in cahoots with...what was it called? e.l.i.t.e, yes. she smiled lightly, "auriand lachele calliste, is it?" the boy only responded with a curt nod. the blonde seemed a bit off-put by his unfriendly air of manner, but her smile quickly reappeared. "well, then. come with me, mr. calliste. you will be meeting with your teammates shortly." still using that word? once again, auriand bit back a waspish response, and just nodded, following the woman.

her heels clicked on the cold, solid foundation of the building. auriand studied the elaborate busts lining the walls, along with the esteemed paintings of e.l.i.t.e members. even if auriand couldn't stomach the sterile state of the building due to past endeavors (forget it auriand,. you did once, do it again.), he could appreciate the illustrious items within it. he finally arrived in the commons, he assumed, where everyone was gathered. the blonde turned to him, her eyes waiting. "well, go on. i'm sure they'll introduce themselves." auriand sneered, tiring of this lady's prestige.

"thank you," he said coldly, before entering the commons. he studied everyone, not knowing who was who. he rested his hands on his sides, trying to blend into the backdrop. he saw the appetizers and decided to grab the first thing he saw. he was starving, having only left his apartment with a stale batch of off-brand captain crunch in his stomach. from the back of the room, daintily chewing on what he assumed was a fruit (which he'd never seen, mind you) he observed the individuals in the room: a girl in a grungy outfit: a black tank top and combat boots were all he really observed closely. she seemed engaged in conversation with two other individuals, a girl with thick black hair and a leather jacket, and a male in a christmas sweater. the attire was questionable, but...he'd comment later. there was a girl feasting on appetizers as he did, and lastly, another boy making a declaration of greeting. cheesy. he simply continued on with the fruit he was eating, his elbow against a wall as he leaned. [/div][/div] [div class=pos][div class="round1 round"][/div] . [div class="round2 round"][/div] . [div class="round3 round"][/div] [div class=stats]c. mood: tense. | ment.: @Lunaa, nymphadora. , chamomile , nuas , ebb . | no int. | e.l.i.t.e ldn. base. | x.[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=container]height: 340px; max-width: 500px; padding: 10px; margin: auto; background: #696969 [/class] [class=image]height: 100%; width: 33%; background-image: url(https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/20268799cf5986f8d0aa23536137ac1e46a093833f334dfc5ca7dc3517716bd4/los-angeles-fashion-stylist-new-york-fashion-stylist-tiffani-chynel-mens-fashion-editorial-mens-red-carpet-advertising-lookbook-cole-sprouse-riverdale_preview-2.jpg); background-size: 200%; background-position: 55% 30% [/class] [class=blk]height: 100%; width: 65%; left: 35%; position: relative; top: -200px [/class] [class=title]position: relative; top: -120px; left: 0px; max-width: 235px; width: 100%; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 20px; color: #bc4060 [/class] [class=line]height: 1px; width: 100%; background: #000000 [/class] [class=lil]position: relative; width: 96%; text-align: right; font-style: italic; font-size: 10px; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #202020; [/class] [class=b]position: relative; left: 240px; top: -175px; height: 20%; width: 20%; padding: 5px; border-radius: 0px 100px 100px 100px; border: 1px solid #000000 [/class] [class=lilimage]height: 100%; width: 100%; border-radius: 0px 100px 100px 100px; background-image: url(https://66.media.tumblr.com/dd1b05f2d42fffc5fcd81b0ba87e186b/tumblr_inline_owun9pIEQ01qlt39u_250.gif); background-size: 200%; background-position: 60% 55% [/class] [class=info]position: relative; left: 0px; top: -165px; height: 245px; max-width: 310px [/class] [class=post]height: 190px; width: 101%; font-size: 10px; overflow: hidden [/class] [class=scroll]height: 100%; width: 100%; overflow-y: scroll; text-align: justify; padding-right: 30px [/class] [class=pos]position: relative; top: 15px; height: 35px; max-width: 305px; text-align: center; color: transparent; overflow: hidden [/class] [class=round]position: relative; display: inline-block; height: 25px; width: 25px; border-radius: 100%; background: #ffffff; transition: 0.7s; [/class] [class=round2]transition: 0.7s; display: inline-block; height: 25px; width: 25px; border-radius: 100%; background: #c0c0c0 [/class] [class=round3]transition: 0.7s; display: inline-block; height: 25px; width: 25px; border-radius: 100%; background: #000000 [/class] [class=bla]background: #ffffff [/class] [class=ble]background: #c0c0c0 [/class] [class=blo]background: #000000 [/class] [class=stats]position: relative; top: 10px; width: 100%; margin: auto;font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; color: white [/class] [script class=post on=mouseenter] addClass bla round1 addClass ble round2 addClass blo round3 [/script] [script class=post on=mouseleave] removeClass bla round1 removeClass ble round2 removeClass blo round3 [/script] [script class=pos on=mouseenter] addClass up round addClass up stats removeClass down round removeClass down2 stats [/script] [script class=pos on=mouseleave] addClass down round addClass down2 stats addClass up round addClass up stats [/script] [class name=up] animation-name: {post_id}up; animation-direction: normal; animation-duration: 0.5s; animation-delay: 0s; animation-timing-function: ease-out; animation-iteration-count: 1; animation-fill-mode: both; [/class] [animation=up] [keyframe=0]top: 0px[/keyframe] [keyframe=100]top: -30px[/keyframe] [/animation] [class name=down] animation-name: {post_id}down; animation-direction: normal; animation-duration: 0.5s; animation-delay: 0s; animation-timing-function: ease-out; animation-iteration-count: 1; animation-fill-mode: both; [/class] [animation=down] [keyframe=0]top: -30px[/keyframe] [keyframe=100]top: 0px[/keyframe] [/animation] [class name=down2] animation-name: {post_id}down2; animation-direction: normal; animation-duration: 0.5s; animation-delay: 0s; animation-timing-function: ease-out; animation-iteration-count: 1; animation-fill-mode: both; [/class] [animation=down2] [keyframe=0]top: -30px[/keyframe] [keyframe=100]top: 10px[/keyframe] [/animation]

 

[chamomile]

ANDREW

❝ first impressions account for so much ❞

the orphan ✦ acquainted ✦ outfit ✦ the grand hall
mentions: irene + auriand
tags: @Lunaa nymphadora. ebb

"You do know I have an advantage, right?" Andrew shrugged at the question, pouting as if it just crossed his mind. But that's exactly the point of giving her a little win in the first place.

He waited for her answer, joining him for food as he stared at empty fireplace. What kind of hall is this, the waiting for Santa lounge? The whole branch get together, tis' not the season.

"Bin-go!" he sang. She got it right, as expected. But smoke bloke? If that was a superhero name suggestion, he would've shot it down. "It's versatile, but I don't really use it much."

Andrew rested his elbow to glance back at Sam when he's interrupted by a newcomer. Impeccably dressed, strong eyebrows and that poised walk. Marina Dyer, not disguised like the last time he's seen her.

He watched her approach his seat with a quip.

"Nothing you haven't heard Nina." He returned her smirk with a smile of his own. The toothpick flitted between his teeth then looked pointedly at Sam. "I'll stick with Andrew, thanks."

He propped up on top of the pillows, now sitting on Nina's eye level. "Up to any trouble recently?— Sam over here," Andrew let the sentence hang in the air, before lowering his voice. "Broke Wallace Blackburn the first."

Leading his gaze to the bust, the head precariously conjoined and the thin fractured line just visible enough. Wonder how long til the staff here notices. He grinned but not before shooting a slightly apologetic look at Sam.

A new one arrived but she chose not to join in on the conversation, shy? nervous?— withdrawn to the appetizers. Next was a male who stood by the door a few seconds too long, Sage was his name and Andrew offered a friendly smile at his address. "Welcome aboard."

And one who almost slipped in unnoticed; Auriand, since the other two guys were accounted for. He seemed a little stiff.

Andrew couldn't really be bothered calling the reserved ones over to the social circle. There's always time to talk afterwards. They still have two more to go.

black space

 

[Digit]

"Some team they would surely make."​

jared durand

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​

Location: Grand Hall - London
Tags: chamomile ShadyAce

​

Companionable silence, he chose to call it.

Jared had long given up trying to milk the tongueless chauffeur for any pertinent information, and ruled there was absolutely nothing awkward regarding this current arrangement. As a matter of fact, he would’ve gone as far as to say he enjoyed the momentary respite from his madhouse of a life ever since being paid a visit by the distinguished Wallace Blackburn. The man’s offer initially fell on deaf ears, the notion of Jared neglecting his studies in favor of forming some fanciful team of oddballs just too preposterous to consider. But then came an addendum to the proposition—and even the slightest of possibilities was enough to strike his vindictive nerves.

And well, the rest was history.

He had little inkling of what collaborating with others of his caliber would entail, simultaneously lacking a genuine interest of doing so, if he was to be frank. Even when he was mailed a file detailing the information of his inevitable colleagues, it received a cursory skim at best. And while he reviewed said dossiers on the tedious flight to London, that was done purely out of absolute boredom and even then Jared could only retain a handful of intriguing details. Admittedly, it did sound a tad cold, but he figured most of the others had their own selfish little reasons to partake in this makeshift project as opposed to satisfy the righteous good in their hearts.

Some team they would surely make.

If anything, his undermined expectations and lack of personal investments did well to put him at ease during the journey. Yet, he came to realize that this companionable silence had not been so silent after all, Jared only now acknowledging the clicking symphony of a pen entrapped between his fingers. God forbid he tried to entertain himself in some manner… and if he wanted to keep a weapon handy in case his first day on the job didn’t go exactly as planned.

Fidgeting away for the rest of the brief trip, his aloof eyes perked up as he felt a jolt in the vehicle’s movements, signalling a definite stop and subsequent arrival. His gaze darted around behind a pair of tinted shades, appraising the setting in an effort to commit the sizable buildings and styled shrubbery to his memory. But that too was a difficult task, discovering the facade generic at best and thematically identical to what he had expected of such an institution. Ultimately abandoning the idea as a result, he made his exit and hopped on the curb, strolling over to the blonde he assumed was present to greet him.

“Welcome, you must be Mr. Dur—

“In the flesh. Pleased to be here.” His face bore a modest smile as he interrupted the woman from completing his name. His brief encounter with Blackburn and his respective words had left Jared wondering just how much this organization knew of his own particulars. Exchanging formalities and extended greetings with the E.L.I.T.E representative, he slid a hand into a jacket pocket shortly afterward, fingers gently pulling the customized ballpoint out and allowing the utensil to sway in his grasp as he followed the woman’s lead.

They traversed the building's ground floor before moving to a seemingly endless hallway lined with monotonous portraits devoid of flair. Rhythmic footsteps vibrated off reflective marble flooring for a good minute or two before the pair finally approached an end to the aimlessly decorated tunnel. “Most of the others have already arrived.” The nameless representative gestured over to a pair of imposing doors before promptly turning around, presumably making the lengthy trek back to her post. Offering the blonde a muttered farewell, Jared met the wooden structures, already catching fragmented segments of conversation through a slight opening. Something about breaking Blackburn?

A delicate push and creak of the door was all it needed for him feel under intense scrutiny already, facing down more pairs of eyes than he had expected. Nestling the rigid pen snugly between his thumb and index fingers, the object swayed and bobbed as Jared counted the other recruits in a whisper. He made brief notes as his attention traveled from face to face, perhaps openly gawking a second too long at one’s choice of attire. He waited for any of the profiles’ contents to resurface right about now, but very few did by the time he finished his round through the room—a total of six others, if he was to be believed.

“Guess I’m not the last one then, am I? Unless the invisible one is here doing her thing right now.” Blithely chuckling at his own remark, Jared subtly puffed out his own chest, impressed by his own memory suddenly coming in clutch. Walking past the collection of couches gathered in the room, he allowed his senses to overload at the sight of dozens of appetizers—as if he didn’t feel like he was being bribed enough already.

A few more steps and a slight shift to the right revealed what seemed to be the current center of attention: a shifty effigy of Wallace Blackburn’s likeness. “Looks like I’ve missed quite a bit,” he commented with a raised brow before surveying the others’ expressions once again, unsure if he could survive a round of introductions with the crowd.

[/div][/div]

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll
​

 

[ShadyAce]

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[div class=block]tags[/div] Digit , chamomile , ebb , nymphadora. , @Lunaa
[div class=block]outfit[/div] x [/div] [/div] [div class=imgSmall style="background-image: url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/4729ec6493341dbe1175ba8d8de945cd/tumblr_inline_pf27xjI3FS1qaypzc_1280.gif');"][/div] [/div]

"Was the tracker really necessary?"

The response was lacklustre, mirroring all the other conversations she'd manage to hold on her way to London. They were tight-lipped—well trained, although notably no fun. The strenuous flight had been particularly draining, with Reese unable to sleep for a moment. Most of her time was filled with flippantly shuffling through the files, and although it didn't appear so, she'd documented it all to memory. The lack of photos was slightly alarming, considering visuals were vital information to knowing who a person is. Blackburn didn't seem to be the kind miss any minor detail, so it was more likely he left them out deliberately.

Once she had landed in London and been escorted away, she'd been apprehensive. Wallace was a secretive man, particularly skilled at obscuring the intentions behind his words, yet simultaneously eloquent. His proposition—joining other people with abilities beyond the norm to pursue justice—was a laughable idea at best when she first considered it. Yet their interactions somehow resulted in a handshake with the elusive figure, along with some dates and times. She was suspect of the possibility this was an all elaborate ruse. She'd upset plenty of powerful people, her father likely included. Stepping out of the vehicle, Reese's eyes studied the surroundings, the impressive architecture complimented by impeccable landscaping, although nothing she hadn't seen before.

Turning to collect her belongings, the woman smiled, "There's no need for that, Ms. Reyes. Please, follow me." Reese ambled behind the woman, rather obviously looked over her shoulder, momentarily surveying the winding pathways and more importantly, exits before stepping inside the door.

The interior was no less stunning. "Is anyone here?" Reese asked absentmindedly, her eyes instead wandering around the hallways. As they walked, Reese noted every turn they took, cataloguing them to memory. The halls seemed to be maze-like purposefully, again instigating doubt in her mind.

"You're the last to arrive," the woman replied with a curt tone. And this was supposed to be the most on time she's ever been. The blonde was just as conservative as the rest of E.L.I.T.E.'s staff she'd encountered, even with her arguably friendlier attitude. The halls continued on as the two fell into silence, which was only pierced by the clicking of the woman's heels to the polished marble, in such perfect timing Reese began tapping her finger on her thigh to match. Reese hardly made a sound, she was surprised the woman didn't dare to glance back to check she was still there. Surveying the interior quickly grew repetitive, the different paintings lining the walls becoming the only memorable change, though they also dreariness to them, being primarily portraits of leaders or agents she didn't recognise.

She wouldn't dare not remember the way out, even if she'd grown tired of thinking about this facility moments in.

"Everyone else is just inside." She gestured to the doors, before turning back into the unnecessarily long tunnel. If Reese was the last one to arrive, the woman was presumably going to inform someone that the group had collated in the room. Hopefully that meant she didn't have to uphold trivial conversations for too long. Reese was not particularly enthused about the group aspect of this project of Blackburn's and had no intention to become acquainted with them, let alone become familiar with anyone.

She lingered outside biting her lip, before easing the door open. Immediately she perused each face in turn, most people concentrated in a slight social circle, two others distancing themselves from the group. Reese found herself caught on two separate faces, albeit she didn't know either of their names. One of the males had been watching her once, scrutinizing each of her hand movements as she dealt cards in the casino, bright flashing lights and overwhelming sounds of drunken annoyance and slot machines nearby. Had he been the one who followed her home? She had her doubts when noticing the christmas sweater he adorned. Before her glance could be considered staring, Reese found herself looking at another woman she'd stumbled upon. She was a thief; one Clarisse saw shift into other skin, and thus she had to be Marina Dyer, if the information she'd been supplied was to be trusted. Again, her brown eyes moved on, focusing in on the appetizers, not bothering to match any other faces to files.

Sliding by the platter to grab a piece of food, Reese then approached the social group forming, perching on one of the couch's armrests, promptly defaulting to crossed legs. "So everyone here was roped into glorified community service?" She quizzed, posing it as a general question to the five other people, popping the miniature biscuit in her mouth.

[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]

 

[christy]

samirah katsifaras, aka, oracle

Sam had looked up as the door opened one more time, revealing a smartly dressed, dark haired woman. Sam didn't immediately get any flashes when she walked into the room, but she could tell, from both her and Andrew's body language, that they knew one another. "No," Sam admitted when asked whether she had any other nicknames. "Not yet. But I suppose we have plenty of time for something to come up that would spark the formation of a new nickname," she added on with a mildly teasing smile in Andrew's direction.

It seemed that everyone was slowly piling into the room, one by one. Since Andrew came, the arrival of the others were mere minutes apart, if not less. Next came a dark haired girl who seemed kind, from her face, but didn't seem like the type to open up -- or maybe she just wanted to observe first. Then were two dark haired males -- one of them, at least, seemed quite pleased to be there, or at least enthusiastic about this whole idea. Sam had waved to each of them once they entered the room, whether or not they seemed keen on returning that greeting.

She did the same with the next guy who entered, who pointed out that they had one person left to join their party. Upon noticing the broken bust, Sam smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck before clambering over the back of the sofa she stood behind like a monkey so she could plop down on the soft cushions beside Andrew, as opposed to walking around the couch and taking a seat like a normal person. "For the record, that was not done on purpose," Sam said, gesturing briefly to the broken bust of Wallace Blackburn I, merely to set the record straight.

It was not long before there were eight people in the room. The last one had arrived, and as expected, Sam recognised nobody. She didn't know if that was the case for the others though -- she spent a majority of her life after the labs trying not to get too close to people. Being friendly was one thing, but she tended not to stay in one place for too long.

"That's one way to put it," Sam replied to the girl who entered last. She had yet to figure out who everyone else was. She supposed it would be revealed soon enough, but before she got the chance to say anything else that was on her mind, the doors opened again. Sam was a little confused by this since she wasn't expecting any more to join them, but when she saw who entered the room, flanked by the tall blonde who had led them all to this room, Sam understood.

Wallace Blackburn had finally come to greet them.


location: the grand hall
tags: chamomile , nymphadora. , nuas , rosebubbles , ebb , Digit , ShadyAce
outfit: [ x ]

wallace blackburn III

The moment Blackburn entered the room, his gaze floated over to the broken bust nearby, but he barely glanced at it for a second before he looked back at the people that filled the room. His task force. His team.

Well, they weren't much of a team yet, half of them didn't know each other's names yet, but it would all come, and there was plenty of time to mingle before training began, but certain things needed to get out of the way. The first, and most important, was letting everyone know their Soul Guardians, because it seemed like there might already be a few people unwilling to cooperate in a team. The faster they wrapped their minds around the fact that they'd always have a partner no matter what, the better.

"Welcome to London's E.L.I.T.E base," he said, arms slightly wide. He had a smile on his face, and it looked genuine even. Mainly because this whole task force was a project that had been years in the making and now it was finally coming to life. "I'm glad you could all make it and I trust your journeys were pleasant enough." Well, of course they all made it. It wasn't like Blackburn would have sent people to take no for an answer.

"As much as I would love to chat and discuss your trips," he made a waving motion with his hand that made it seem like that was the last thing he would ever want to do, "we have matters to attend to. We can all sit and catch up during the gala this evening. For now, I trust you all read the files given to you? It's always important to know who you're working with after all. And aside from that, it would save me from having to waste time to explain to you what a Soul Guardian is."

He scanned their faces for either expressions of recognition or confusion once he recited the term, and then heaved a small sigh. "Very well, just in case you might have forgotten, a rather short version is that your Soul Guardian, will be your official partner. So when all else fails, you still have someone to turn to. Someone who has your back. Team work is important, especially in this field, with your abilities, and the kinds of threats that you'll face in the future. So it's important that you know who your partner is right away, just so you can get used to the idea." He had a smile on his face that looked like a mix between deranged and excited. One might almost believe he was here solely to see how this would pan out. As though it were some form of entertainment.

"Miss Colette?"

The blonde woman stepped forward, a red velvet box in her hands. She opened it up to reveal four small knives. They were shiny. They were sharp.

Looking to the others with his hands clasped, Blackburn spoke again. "So, who'd like to go first?"

samirah katsifaras, aka, oracle

Sam was sure of two things. One, Wallace Blackburn was a maniac. Two, these people, including herself, had all more or less signed off to follow his orders. Which meant they were in for one hell of a ride. Sam just wasn't sure how long that would last.

The man barely took a moment to stop and greet them, or introduce himself -- or, hell, let them get acquainted with one another, since she still had no idea who anyone was, except Andrew since he'd been the first to arrive. And already, the guy wanted them to find out who their Soul Guardian was? She'd read about it in the files she'd been handed, so she knew what it was all about, and what having a Soul Guardian entailed, but she at least thought that before finding that out, she'd know the name of the person she'd be 'bound' to.

She lifted an eyebrow when the blonde -- Miss Colette, apparently -- stepped forward with a box of knives. This wasn't exactly what she expected.

"What exactly would we be volunteering to go first for?" Sam asked the man, a little skeptical.

"Well, Miss Katsifaras," he began. "If you all read the file, you'd know that Soul Guardians feel what you feel. Not in the same intensity, but the bond allows them to know when you're hurt. Which is what the knives are for."

"We have to get stabbed?"

"Of course not," he waved off that theory like it wasn't a big deal. "Just a small cut would do. In the palm of your hand. Once that's done, someone else in this room will feel it too, and a symbol should appear on your skin, further confirming that for as long as you two are here, you are bound."

Sam found it all completely unnecessary. Of course, she couldn't exactly say this so she tried saying it differently. "Wouldn't it be easier to just tell us who it is?"

"I could," Blackburn nodded and crossed his arms. "But, not everything in life will be handed to you on a silver platter. Sometimes, you need to go through the pain, for an outcome. All of you know this, or you wouldn't be here."

Well, Sam had a feeling that it had not been everyone's first choice, but in any case, it didn't seem like there was any other way of doing this, and she'd faced much more than a cut to the hand before, so she got to her feet. "Alright," she shrugged. "I'll go."

"Wonderful," Blackburn stood to the side, leaving space for Sam to walk up to Colette to pick up one of the shiny knives. She didn't hesitate; she just wanted to get this over with. Honestly, part of her was really curious to find out who it was, so the moment she picked up the blade, she made a slash across her palm. It stung, but it was a light one, and she was immediately given a cloth by Colette, to stifle the blood flow.

Sam had intended to look up and see who had reacted, who had felt what she just did, but instead, she found herself mesmerised by the formation of the symbol on her forearm. It was like ink spreading through her veins, moving, expanding, till it made a whole shape that looked just like a tattoo on her skin.


location: the grand hall
tags: n/a
outfit: [ x ]

 

[rosebubbles]

[div class=container][div class=image][/div] [div class=blk][div class=title]AURIAND L. CALLISTE. [div class=line][/div] [div class=lil]the brains.[/div][/div] [div class=b][div class=lilimage][/div][/div] [div class=info] [div class=post][div class=scroll] auriand kept surveying the room, noting the two newcomers and the girl who waved. he simply offered a curt wave in response, not wanting to come off as too rude; the newcomers, then- they must've been the last two. he tried to gauge who was who from the files he had received earlier once again, but to no particular avail. he took note of both of the newcomers, much like he did the earlier arrivals, before hearing the male who had entered not five minutes ago speak. auriand hadn't observed much resulting from his late arrival, so he offered a one-armed shrug to the man before him at his inquiry about the shattered bust. he nearly chuckled at the new girl's note of 'glorified community service', but kept his ever unweighted straight face. when wallace blackburn, the man of the hour, walked in, auriand stiffened. he noticed how blackburn seemed unphased by the broken bust of himself, which had formerly gone unnoticed by auriand. the man's behavior indicated must have been quite well-off, if it wasn't obvious by his choice of attire, which looked pricey.

when wallace began talking, reciting where they where at the moment, auriand listened carefully. any information given by the leader himself would surely help, if not much, than certainly a bit. auriand, observant, knew wallace wasn't at all interested in their trips, but he didn't comment, listening intently as he may. at the mention of a gala, he rose a brow, not remembering it being brought up during any former interactions with wallace; but he kept quiet. when wallace began talking about 'soul guardians'. auriand grimaced lightly at the phrase. the thought of being bonded with someone he possibly wouldn't even be able to handle was plaguing. he didn't want to know his soul guardian right away; he wanted to avoid the subject altogether, frankly, but wallace was their leader, at least for now, so auriand just had to deal with it. when wallace smiled, auriand thought it looked a bit insane. no, scratch that, just insane. he saw the four sharp knives the intern- miss collete, he learned- brought in. there were weapons involved in this? oh, hurrah.

he listened to the girl who was talking to blackburn, who he assumed was nicknamed sam, from the fragments of a conversation he'd heard as entered the room. when she asked if it would just be easier to be informed of who they were bonded with, auriand nodded, hoping his reaction would be noticed, but didn't speak, which basically made it sure he wouldn't even be acknowledged. when in turn wallace offered a monologue about life, auriand shifted. he supposed the imposing man was correct. the girl seemed as skeptical as him, so he was shocked when she agreed to go first. auriand had a stifling fear that she was his soul guardian, that he had to bond with somebody for life, he guessed. he decided to look down, not wanting to see her cut herself, as if that would make the reveal easier to deal with.

auriand bit his lip, stifling a yelp as a surprising pain hit his arm. he sucked in a breath, lifting his arm to see what had just caused the sudden bite of pain, only to see a tattoo (that's what it was, right?) blooming across his forearm. oh no. that fast? sam should've gone last, he would've had more time to prepare; he had to be bonded to someone for life, possibly, and he didn't even know them? lord, he should just run for it, but all he could do was mutter: "what the fuck...?"

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[chamomile]

ANDREW

❝ i love theatrics, but not that much ❞

the orphan ✦ how dramatic ✦ outfit ✦ the grand hall
mentions: everyone else, kinda
tags: nymphadora. ShadyAce

Andrew recognised the last two people to enter the hall. One from his name and old news clippings. Another from a fun time at a casino, he didn't expect her but how could he. Now, is she Irene or Clarisse?

Was ten minutes with his new teammates so hard to ask for?

It's like everyone arrived in London at the same time but instead of carpooling and maybe get acquainted beforehand, ELITE hired 8 different chaffeurs because Blackburn just rolls like that.

Andrew had plans. Not to be the elected leader, but Blackburn somewhat implied that during his recruitment. No, he's here for the people and now interrupted because what's time to waste? At least he had the gala to look forward to, all the more reason to socialise with finesse. And maybe some important people.

He had rolled his eyes at the idea of soul guardians, it sounded too cheesy. Granted, criminals weren't all over the power of friendship and having your back. Andrew wandered to the appetizers for another bacon wrapped date and getting rid of both toothpicks as he watched the exchange happen. He winced when Sam went for the palm like Blackburn suggested.

It didn't feel good when he did it. Andrew cut his palm a couple years back convincing multiple businessmen that sponsoring a fake cult would be a good investment.

He even turned into smoke to add to the mystery mood. Though ever since his first blood altar ritual, he found other places that hurt less to cut. Good thing most of their made up stories don't follow the virgin blood rule.

"Let me try."

After the demonstration, with Sam and Auriand paired up, Andrew approched the knives. He gave Blackburn a cursory glance then made brief eye contact with casino girl.

He drew blood on the fleshy bit of his left hand, below his pinky finger but above his wrist. Nothing more than a pinch. He's satisfied when a tattoo formed on Nina's forearm.

"Yes!— Can I keep this?" He doesn't wait for an answer, "Thanks." With a look promising he won't stab anyone, he returned to his spot next to Nina, knife in tow.

He pulled up the sleeve of his leather jacket prompting her to do the same, checking out their new matching tattoos.

Andrew leaned in so only she could hear, "I'm glad I got you," then smiled before turning back to see who wants to go next.

The telepathy thing should already be working. We're a match made in heaven, don't you think?

black space

 

[ebb]

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[div class="header"]

Sage Powell
[/div]

[div class="paragraph"]
“Welcome aboard.”

While Andrew’s response was short winded compared to Sage’s own declarations, he was pleased to receive a friendly response. Grateful to have already made a connection, he marked Andrew in his memory as approachable - someone he might reach out to if he had questions or needed a hand. He seemed like a trustworthy guy. Even if his tastes in sweaters was questionable.

His friend making was interrupted by the entrance of three new members. The first to enter was a tall boy with dark hair who made a beeline for the food, not bothering to introduce himself to the group. He must be hungry, to shrug off first impressions for a meal. Sage frowned in sympathy, he must’ve not had a chance to eat on the way over. The next to enter was an equally tall boy who supported the physique and energy of someone who was physically strong and knew it too. He had a self-assured stride and practically strutted across the room. Sage laughed under his breath at Jared’s joke. The third to enter was a girl who breezed into the room, with brown hair and a light sprinkling of freckles. She joined the circle and Sage watched her curl onto the armrest.

“So everyone here was roped into glorified community service?”

Sage opened his mouth to protest, but quickly forgot his objections in the presence of Blackburn as he swung into the room. Captivated by his speech, he found himself nodding. His captivation doubled as he witnessed the tattoo blooming from Sam’s forearm, and he fought the urge to climb nearer for a closer look. So it was true...Soul guardians…

From the point of first discovering his gifts, there had been a gradual desensitization to injuries and blood. The sight of a wound no longer filled him with the same sense of urgency and panic. Having the abilities he did, Sage felt he could cheat the system that said the human body was delicate and carefully structured. For him it was a ziplock bag that could be opened and closed at will, maulable and clumsy. A pinch here and a zap of energy there, and it knotted back and repaired itself like it was programmed to do. Back home, those he welcomed into his social circle reaped the benefits of healed bruises and scrapes, and well as some nastier emergencies that led to his current informal approach to physical harm. The worst being a hunting accident that smashed his friend to a pulp. The process of healing had lasted overnight, with several human siphons providing him energy for the process. He could still feel the strain on his knees and ankles, hunched on the floor by a flickering lantern, unable to move or shift at the risk of letting the process slip.

Lost in the memory, he approached the box with little hesitation. “Thank you,” he addressed the tall woman politely, nodding her way. Lifting the blade from its case, he didn’t bother to draw a breath before he slid it along his left hand. The feeling throughout his left palm had been gnarled and withered, leaving little sensation- including pain. He frowned apologetically, not intending to knick as severely. It was harder to gauge without feeling. Sage smiled down at the tattoo blossoming on his skin, a collection of straight lines forming the serene cusp of a mountain. Seeing it there made him feel like he was a part of something.

He scanned the crowd for his soul guardian, excitement reading clearly on his face. “Ah, hello!” Sage called across to Clarisse, noticing the matching mark. “As it would happen, we’re now in charge of each other’s souls. I know it sounds like a huge responsibility, but I’m planning on making it easy for you. It won’t be any trouble,” he assured, studying the face of the girl he’d met moments before, and was now bound to.

[/div]


[/div]

 

[Digit]

"Speak of the devil."​

jared durand

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​

Location: Grand Hall - London
Tags: ShadyAce @Lunaa nuas

​

It didn’t take long for their final teammate to arrive to the scene, Jared offering a entertained smirk at the newcomer’s succinct response. For some reason it was encouraging knowing he wasn’t alone in his skepticism, though that too had made the whole ‘team’ idea rather ironic. But if anything, the group here appeared social enough for his liking and apparently worth getting to know a little more. Another dark-haired female deflected his earlier inquiry on the state of Mr. Blackburn over there, leaving his brows furrowed even more as his eyes traced the length of the bust’s unsightly wound. Perhaps the issue would have been best left shelved for now.

Speak of the devil. No sooner had the thought resolved itself did the man of the hour saunter into the chamber, the thorough blonde pacing by his side before coming to a grand halt. Jared bit down on his lip, the act of listening to the man's introduction and proceed with his imposing monologue unnerving, for whatever reason. Powering through Blackburn’s hollow attempts at casual talk, it wasn’t until the eventual mention of Soul Guardians did his attention spike and memory begin to work overtime.

It was hard not to remember the bloody thing - Jared recalling just how befuddled he had been upon first reading through the file. He chalked it up to a product of flimsy skimming, but Wallace’s words now indeed confirmed his concerns, the thought of a longstanding partner forced upon him alarming, to say the least. Now not only would he be subject to whatever harm came to said partner, he’d feel accountable for another life in addition to his own - as if he didn’t have enough of a burden on his shoulders as it was. And now Blackburn was asking them to test those responsibilities, unveiling the knives with too eager an attitude, Jared deduced.

So it came across as quite a shock when his teammates seemingly lined up one after another to plunge the blade into their palms without objection, his mouth only dropping open slightly upon the successive revelations. He watched as partners grimaced from a physiologically impossible pain, an anomaly that he still couldn’t wrap around his head. The bare corners of his vision identified further expressions of shock, catching sight of the small images materializing on the arms of the cut individuals.

With each knife pricked into vulnerable flesh, Jared braced himself for the pain, though the sensation never came. After a number of repetitions and false alarms, he looked around with the paired members, eyes finally settling on the lone female who appeared unaffected. Ah, of course. Making the connection as his pupils settled on the lone dagger left in Colette’s container, his face contorted as a conflicted expression manifested in his features. “I mean… don’t we already know?" He gestured awkwardly between himself and the other girl, sending apologetic glances in her general direction before catching sight of the domineering figure by his side.

Feeling the very real pressure of Blackburn’s gaze on him, he huffed a single sigh as he took his steps, picking up the knife from the silky surface. With one final look at his supposed Soul Guardian, Jared offered a contrived smile as his attempt of comfort. This whole thing had been extended for far too long, and if Blackburn had intended to abuse his assemblage already, he might as well save some other poor soul from the unnecessary wound.

A quick slice on his left palm was all it took, a small but crimson cut seeping through the pale skin that had been there just a second ago. Shaking off the sting and wiping off the bloodied stain on the lustrous blade, Jared could only watch in futility as his own obscure symbol flourished into existence. Glowering at the mess of a mark, he racked his brain for how he could possibly explain this one away, practically feeling his untainted image slip into nonexistence. But after he was finished wallowing in his own misfortune, his head shot up to meet his counterpart, a smidgen of curiosity as to how she was handling things.

[/div][/div]

codedbycrucialstar | hidden scroll
​

 

[nuas]

Irene Bowman

LOCATION: Grand Hall
OUTFIT: x
MENTIONS: everyone
INTERACTIONS: Digit ​

It was not long after Irene entered that the rest of the members did; three men and a woman. Nothing jumped out to her on who they might be. She did manage to hear amongst the conversations a few names like Sam and Andrew. Sage introduced himself to the room and she gave a small wave in response. One of the men had black hair and seemed to be more of the quiet type. Another man was much bulkier than the last two men.

"So everyone here was roped into glorified community service?" The lightly freckled woman asked, one of the newcomers that entered. When you stripped away all the fanciful words Blackburn used to sell the team, it was pretty much dead on.

It was quite interesting to see how these people looked and how they held up to the image in Irene’s mind. On paper, they seemed imposing with powerful abilities, but in person? They seemed like average people. She wondered if they had similar thoughts. She found it hard to believe that she too looked like an average person to others. Irene felt like her powers hovered like a neon sign in people’s faces despite all her precautions. Did they ever feel like that too? She would have to ask at another time. For now, she was content with watching and weeding out who were the extroverts from introverts.

Irene turned back to the appetizer table and grabbed a napkin to wipe her greasy hands. The food had been great and she felt better than when she first arrived. As big as this room was, she could not remember the last time she had been in a room with so many people that was not a bar. Her job as a video editor was pretty remote and when she did meet with a person it was at most two people.

The door opened once more, another member? Wait, no that couldn’t be right. Irene turned and there stood the blond woman from earlier and Wallace Blackburn. He did not look quite as imposing as the night she met him, but still as polished looking. Blackburn smiled, the excitement was visible when he spoke about the team. It felt comforting to see him still as passionate about the project. Yet, she still wondered about the longevity of the team. Some things worked better on paper than in person despite how long he watched them for. At the mention of a gala, Irene froze. What the fuck did people wear to galas? She did not think she had anything that would fit for one. But she did not get much more time to wallow on that detail when he spoke of Soul Guardians.

She remembered reading about it in the files, but her memory was foggy on that section. At this moment, she could kick herself for forgetting that detail. She knew that having a partner look out for her during missions was great. Irene was never all that great in group settings, her reserved nature leading her to observe more than to integrate herself. However, with a partner, she could begin to shake her reclusive behavior. Yet, there was a part of Irene that hated the idea. She spent so long worrying about herself that it almost seemed daunting to focus the same energy in another. Hopefully, the person that was her partner was someone she could bond well with.

“Miss Colette?” Blackburn asked. The blonde from earlier stepped forward, a red velvet box in her hands. It was then that Irene looked to the older man’s face, his warm smile taken on a much darker edge. It felt wolfish, and Irene felt like the prey waiting to be devoured. When the box was opened, it revealed four sharp blades. They glinted in the light and Irene was convinced this had to be a sick joke. Oh good going, Irene! You accepted a mad man’s offer.

“What the fuck?” Irene mumbled as her eyes widened. She should have known he would pull a stunt like this. Rich men always were into the weird stuff. It was not enough for them to agree to be in the team, which they had no choice in declining. It was not enough for him to have them injected with trackers. Oh no, Mr. Psycho over here wanted to have them bonded and branded to each other like they were cattle. It was bad enough that her ability left her with lingering fragments of other people’s emotions, but now she gets to feel physical pain from her partner. Could life get any better?

Irene could not believe she was watching her teammates, one by one, slice their palm to find their partners. Each person that stepped up had set her edge, she waited for that jolt of pain that never came. There was a good thing about the others being the first to go up before her, she could weed out who was supposed to be hers. Mr. Bulky Guy was. He looked very strong and Irene supposed if she did have a partner, he would certainly be suitable to protect her. She met his gaze briefly. However, this did not satisfy Blackburn, who looked expectantly at them both. This man could not possibly be serious?

“I mean… don’t we already know?" said her partner, but a look from Blackburn said it all. It wasn’t. Nope, this man wanted blood. What a creep.

Irene started to take a step forward, but her partner beat her to it. He cut the line in his hand, and the sting in her palm startled her. It felt as if she had done the action herself and when she looked at her hand, there was nothing there. After flexing her hand a few times did the feeling disappear. Her gaze tracked downward when she noticed the mark, or branding, that matched her partners. Irene stared at the strange symbol, it had familiar shapes and she wondered if they had any meaning. It was such an eerie moment. How bad are the bigger injuries going to hurt? She grabbed a napkin from off the table and moved over to him.

“Here,” Irene said as she offered the napkin for his hand. She was careful to keep her fingers from being touched. “I’m Irene.”

code by spidey

 

[ShadyAce]

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[div class=block]tags[/div] ebb (interacted), @Lunaa , chamomile , Digit (mentioned)
[div class=block]outfit[/div] x [/div] [/div] [div class=imgSmall style="background-image: url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/4729ec6493341dbe1175ba8d8de945cd/tumblr_inline_pf27xjI3FS1qaypzc_1280.gif');"][/div] [/div]

There were a few reactions in the room to her comment, but only one person managed to respond to her, a girl with dark hair and striking blue eyes, before the man at the centre of it all came bursting through the doors, the blonde woman in tow. Reese knew she was off to inform someone of the group being fully gathered, but the prompt return of her and the older male she'd fetched was unexpected, especially considering how large the compound seemed to be when she was being led through it.

Wallace exchanged half-hearted formalities—though Reese wasn't sure if arrogantly motioning to a building was conventional method of introducing oneself. As he failed to pretend to instigate some pleasant conversation before delving into his own concerns, it was clear he had little care for them, let alone any questions they had. His eagerness was a touch unnerving, and the mention of a gala piqued her interest as it seemed to be new information. Conflicting emotions and thoughts continued to roll around messily, with Blackburn leaving no spare moments.

Clarisse recalled one of the files discussing Soul Guardians, grinding her teeth and folding her arms as Blackburn recited the idea and practical application these Soul Guardians were intended to have. The spark in Wallace Blackburn's eyes was manic, and for at least the third time in the last 24 hours, Reese was uncertain when it came to the sanity of Blackburn. Apparently it wasn't the last, as when the blonde—who she hoped to remember for future reference was Miss Colette—immediately moved forward at the word of Blackburn, revealing four knives that had evidently been polished as they reflected the light that hit them. If she got close enough, Reese was sure she could see her reflection in them. But that made four times in 24 hours. She planned to continue counting.

The thought of leaving weaved it's way as her gaze remain fixated on the knives. It was shortly dissipated with the first girl volunteering to take a knife to her skin first. She felt nothing, though instinctively Reese's eyebrows knit together as she watched the tattoo manifest onto the girl's skin. Clarisse was prepared to grab a knife herself so that the process would be quick and she didn't have to sit in anticipation, though she always seemed to miss her chance. Who knew she'd be keen on slicing her palm open? Second was the male she'd recognised—Reese let out a tiny sigh, grateful she wasn't paired with whom she was sure had stalked her, even if only once.

The male of the smallest stature then stepped forward, bringing the blade to his left hand.

Her arms untangled themselves, turning her left palm upwards, as she inhaled a quiet, sharp breath, acute pain racing up her nerves. Even though her skin remained untouched, Clarisse could still feel the sting, rather irritated that her new soul guardian was too eager in their slice. Feeling but not seeing it reflected on her body left her momentarily disorientated, her brows furrowed as she stared at where the wound should have been. Her confused gaze drifted up her arm, a symbol made of black ink blossoming out into her skin alike to ink in water forming a pleasing geometric design, resembling two mountain peaks. At least the branding didn't look terrible. Alas, it still felt dehumanizing, but honestly, Reese felt like that was a common feeling around this man. She glanced up at the sound of a voice, dropping her arms to her side, the pain mostly subsided.

Reese stood from her position on the couch, sidling up next to him and examining his features. "That's fantastic, for I have no idea how to guard another person's soul." Which wasn't wrong, but Reese also wasn't fond of learning how to either. "Clarisse, by the way." she added, placing her hand on her chest, "And you?" Pleasantries had to be exchanged, but Reese chose not to focus on the idea that she was now bound to him in ways she couldn't begin to comprehend.

The last pair already knew who each other were without the peculiar ceremonial reveal through drawing blood, but Reese noticed a stern gaze shot by Wallace Blackburn when the logical male brought it up. Her insanity counter had now hit five.

[/div] [/div] [/div] [/div] [/div]

 

[nymphadora.]

[class=block] width: auto; padding: 0px 4px 0px 4px; font-size: 10px; display: inline-block; color: white; [/class] [class=title1] line-height: 25px; font-size: 30px; padding-top: 20px; width: 165px; text-align: center; float: center; text-transform: lowercase; margin: auto; margin-left: 90px; margin-top: -8px; [/class]

[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]with

andrew, reese + sam.
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]tags

chamomile @Lunaa ShadyAce
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]location

the grand hall.
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]outfit[/div] outfit. [/div][/div]

[div class=title1]marina.

[/div]

Nina relaxed her upper body into the couch, her long fingers intertwining with each other as she listened to Andrew's debriefing of what she'd missed. A cheeky smile grew on her lips as her eyes flickered towards the broken bust of Blackburn, her eyebrows knitting together at the separated head. Her dark eyes focused on the girl-- Sam and grinned, "I'm sure he won't notice, probably has ten more sitting somewhere in case of an emergency." She joked casually. Nina returned back to Andrew's question, a playful smirk toying at her lips. "Nothing to worry your little brain about, I'm always careful."

As her words fell out of her mouth, karma decided to smack Nina in the face with the presence of the final team member, a female who she'd bumped into months ago. Perhaps if the two had met on friendlier terms -- i.e., not running with a bag of "borrowed" money that had yet to be returned -- Nina wouldn't be awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to another as the female came close and perched herself on the arm of the couch. She didn't allow her face to falter, but those observant enough would've noticed the sparkle of panic glint in her dark eyes. Instead, she kept her composure and grinned at the brunette, "You guys got a choice? Lucky."

Nina didn't get a chance to thoroughly glance at the other teammates that decided to lurk in the shadows, the sound of Blackburn himself, waltzing into the hall disrupted her thoughts before she could collect them. Her gaze flickered away from the wandering members to the poised suited man, with his blonde assistant curtly following him. Nina rose an eyebrow, her eyes darting towards the velvet box that sat inside the assistant's grip. She certainly wasn't a kleptomaniac -- as far as she was aware -- but she couldn't that her curiosity peaked at the sight of an expensive box. Nina glanced at Blackburn, quietly watching his moves. It became a habit of hers, of sorts. Once Nina had discovered her "talent", she began to watch the subtle movements of others. Watching how their lips curled, and the words rolled off their tongues.

It was a pointless power if Nina didn't learn.

Nina's thoughts were busily trained on Blackburn's expressions, that she didn't really notice Andrew leap up and offer to slice himself for their boss's entertainment. "Wait, what?" Nina blinked, her gaze flickering from the glint of the knife to the crimson liquid that bled through the sliced skin. Before she knew it, a hazy irritation grew in the same place where Andrew glided the knife. Her mouth was slightly agape; everything was happening quickly than Nina expected. Her arm reached for her opposite sleeve, tugging the gingham fabric away to reveal the black ink that spread across her olive arm. The tattoo bloomed like watercolours on a page, forming a matching symbol to Andrew's.

She was glad she got Andrew; it certainly saved time for introductions. Hearing Andrew's voice echo through her mind was jarring for a moment, but the toothy grin didn't say otherwise. Of course, She agreed silently, pulling her sleeve back over her arm, just don't go dying on me, Kozlow.

[/div]

 

[chamomile]

ANDREW

❝ who's ready for a party? ❞

the orphan ✦ anticipating ✦ outfit ✦ the grand hall
mentions: everyone again, pretty much
tags: nymphadora.

Oh don't worry, I'm always careful. Andrew said, echoing her words. Besides, have I ever died on you before?

Rhetorical question, never had to fake his own death before and he hopes he never has to. He hasn't died yet either, obviously.

He couldn't tell if sticking with the teams or mixing them up would be better in a crisis. If they were kidnapped, one on hand escaping is easier via telepathic teamwork but on the other, they could use the link to contact the rest of the crew for backup.

Ah options, it really makes you wonder huh.

Andrew caught a few of the introductions, now sorted the last two variables of Clarisse and Irene, the latter has a British accent. Is she the only local in the group?

The partners seem fitting, going off power set combinations. Oddly enough, always assigned to the opposite gender. Who knew Blackburn was the type to play matchmaker? It's probably no coincidence that he was paired up with Nina knowing things are deliberate with their employer, regardless if it's layered with crazy. At least he won't look as insane or evil in comparison.

Now that's settled, everyone branded and marked for the convenience of ELITE and their questionable methods. They're fire forge companions, totally.

He flipped his knife in his hands nonchalantly, almost missing the handle twice. "So, about that gala-"

black space

 

[christy]

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[div class=slider]

chapter two:
the gala

read more

"Ah yes! The gala." Blackburn clasps his hands together, satisfied that one important task is out of the way. "It commences in an hour so you have until then to take to your rooms, gussy up, and arrive at the ball room. Colette will provide you with your room numbers, which are all on the floor above, and you'll find a map to the ball room once you're inside, along with something to wear to the gala. Don't be late!"

And with that, the man left the room, not even bothering to say goodbye, leaving all of you standing in the room, with Miss Colette. She hands each of you a small piece of paper with your room numbers before she too leaves the hall.

You've now found out who your Soul Guardians are. Some of you may be okay with this. Some of you may not be. Whatever your feelings, you need to put them aside and work with your partner, because very soon, that bond will be put to a test.

For now though, Wallace Blackburn wants to give you a proper welcome, and that's happening at the gala he's throwing this very evening. Since it is a formal event, outfits will be given to you by Blackburn's assistant, Colette. Rather, they will be waiting for you in your room, hung up in your cupboard with a map that helps you get to the ball room, and an envelope containing handwritten note that reads different messages for each of you. It's cryptic, you probably don't think much about it. After all, you have a fancy gala to attend, which is obviously more important and exciting.

After getting ready, you're to report to the ball room where Blackburn will be waiting for you. Or not. Just wait there and mingle, get to know your Soul Guardians some more. Blackburn will show up soon enough. As you know, he likes to make an entrance.

And this time, he has more up his sleeve.

[div class="tab tabone"]andrew

[div class="tab tabtwo"]samirah[/div] [div class="tab tabthree"]auriand[/div] [div class="tab tabfour"]clarisse[/div] [div class="tab tabfive"]jared[/div] [div class="tab tabsix"]irene[/div] [div class="tab tabseven"]sage[/div] [div class="tab tabeight"]marina[/div] [div class=titleslide]

letters from
blackburn

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentsone" style="display: none;"]

Mr. Kozlow [ chamomile ],

Though your Christmas sweater is certainly a bold choice, the suit i've left for you is perhaps more suited to tonight's gala. Consider it a welcoming gift, though there are, of course, more to come. For the time being, just put on the suit, head to the ball room, and enjoy yourself.

Oh, and please do remember that the ball room is a no smoking zone. Cigarettes, at least, are absolutely forbidden.

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentstwo" style="display: none;"]

Ms. Katsifaras [ @Lunaa ],

This whole place must be much more than you're used to, which is understandable, but don't let it intimidate you! You probably know more about the place's history than anyone else here, I believe? See if you can use that to your advantage.

The dress left for you might also be different from what you're used to, but it is the perfect attire for your first gala, so enjoy! And try not to break anything else while you're in the ball room.

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentsthree" style="display: none;"]

Mr. Calliste [ rosebubbles ],

Your presence here is valued, even if you may feel like this is the last place you might want to be. I'm assuming all you need is a good spark of inspiration to get into the swing of things! After all, you are undoubtedly one of the smartest people on the team.

Wear the suit, mingle, try and make friends. The gala is a social event, and it'll help you settle in. And don't be afraid of opening up too much.

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentsfour" style="display: none;"]

Ms. Reyes [ ShadyAce ],

As much as your stealth will be required for multiple instances after tonight, you are to remember that certain rooms here are off limits, so try not to sneak around. Journalism may have been your path once upon a time, but things are changing, and you're part of something bigger now!

But I don't want to talk about work. Tonight is just to let loose and get to know your team mates. I hope the dress is to your liking.

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentsfive" style="display: none;"]

Mr. Durand [ Digit ],

You've had a tough life, but, as we both know, the opportunity to be a part of E.L.I.T.E is an opportunity to achieve a lot of things, for you specifically. You should know how valuable you are to the team, as you will help everyone gather momentum at the most important times.

Serious matters aside, tonight's gala is meant to be a time of celebration. Wear the suit left for you and mingle. Positive relationships are always important in a team!

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentssix" style="display: none;"]

Ms. Bowman [ nuas ],

You will be relied on a lot, in the days to come, for you are the one capable of influencing emotion. It is a stronger power than you may realise, one that you may never really know when to use, when in actuality, you must always be ready to use.

But that isn't something you need to worry yourself about right now. Hopefully the dress left for you suits your tastes! Enjoy your evening. Who knows when you'll have another such fun opportunity?

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentsseven" style="display: none;"]

Mr. Powell [ ebb ],

You are quite possibly the only thing that stands in the way of your teammates and their potential deaths. Of course, that makes it sound a little dramatic, but it isn't farfetched to say that you'll always need to be around to help heal.

Tonight, however, there will (hopefully) be no need for that! All you should focus on is wearing your suit, getting to know the others, and enjoying the night.

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [div class="tabcontents tabcontentseight" style="display: none;"]

Ms. Dyer [ nymphadora. ] ,

As excellent as you may be at hiding yourself from the world, your teammates will soon find that there is much more behind that mask of yours. Whether this is a good or bad thing, depends solely on you, but a word of advice would be to open up a little bit.

The perfect time to do that would be at the gala tonight! Forget about what is to come, and focus instead on wearing your dress and making friends.

Yours,
Wallace Blackburn III

[/div] [/div] [/div]

 

[christy]

samirah katsifaras, aka, oracle

Sam had looked up curiously the moment she sliced her palm, wondering which of these seven people she would be 'bound' to. She still wasn't sure what to think of the whole concept. She knew she would be looking out for all the members of the team regardless, so she found it unnecessary to be bound to one person out of them all, but she wasn't going to question it. Blackburn clearly had been preparing for this for a long time so there was probably some reasoning behind it, some ulterior motive.

When one of the boys spoke, the one with dark hair, Sam offered a polite smile. He didn't look very happy, though Sam told herself in her head that it could be due to multiple reasons, such as suddenly feeling pain despite nothing actually happening to him. But if he was against the whole Soul Guardian idea, she wouldn't blame him. She had a feeling half the people in the room felt the same way. Why would anyone want to risk their life for someone they just met?

Nevertheless, Sam would make the best of it. She went over to him to stand by him while the others came forward for their turn. "I'm Sam, by the way," she told him, introducing herself to him since he had not been around when Andrew guessed her identity. She could probably figure out who he was with a touch, but she decided against it. She didn't want to make things awkward or make him feel like she was invading his privacy, even if most of the time, things just came to her, without her actively seeking out information.

Soon, the 'ceremony' was over, and everyone was paired up. Sam had tied the napkin that Colette had given her around her palm, to stop the bleeding, but it wasn't a huge cut anyway, and would heal soon enough. She listened as Blackburn explained that there would be a gala -- she remembered him saying it when he entered -- and while that was something Sam had never actually been to before, she was looking forward to it. Dresses weren't exactly her go-to attire, but tonight she'd have to make an exception.

Colette walked around the room, handing everyone pieces of paper with numbers on them, which Sam assumed were their room numbers. Not knowing what else to do -- and since there was only an hour left for the gala -- Sam decided she may as well be the first to part from the group and go to her room. "I guess I'll see you later?" She told her Soul Guardian, figuring that they could get to talking during the gala. After all, she was keen on getting to know more about him and she didn't yet know if he shared that view. She'd find out soon enough, though.

Looking at her paper again, she grabbed her jacket and walked out of the room, glancing up and down the hallway till she found a set of stairs, next to an elevator. Since it was a floor up, she took the stairs, and was immediately met by a lengthy corridor with doors on only one side, while windows lined the other. As expected, there were eight doors, all with at least 15 feet of space between them. They were numbered, and Sam kept walking till she found hers -- #7.

The room was big -- bigger than what she was used to, at least. She may be from London but she lived in a shoebox apartment that would fit just one person. This room could fit ten, or maybe even more. It wasn't overly decorated though, like the Grand Hall downstairs. In comparison, it was more simple, which Sam assumed was a silent offer for them to decorate the room as they pleased. Sam's duffel bag was seated on a small bench by the wall length closet doors, and upon opening it, she found that it expanded into another kind of mini room. It was empty, for the time being, save for a black cover that hung on one of the racks. Must be my dress.

Walking over, she pulled the envelope off the cover to read Blackburn's note. So he'd known that she broke the bust. Sam winced, figuring that there were probably cameras in the Grand Hall. Of course there were. But the first part of his letter seemed... odd. She didn't really know what to make of it, but Blackburn was a weird guy, so she didn't spend too much time thinking about it, instead getting a look at the map provided as well before she unzipped the cover to see the yellow fabric inside. Not her favourite colour, but it was still much more expensive than all the things she owned combined, so she pulled it out and started to get ready for the gala.

location: the grand hall > room #7
tags: rosebubbles (interacted), everyone else mentioned
outfit: [ x ]

 

[rosebubbles]

[div class=container][div class=image][/div] [div class=blk][div class=title]AURIAND L. CALLISTE. [div class=line][/div] [div class=lil]the brains.[/div][/div] [div class=b][div class=lilimage][/div][/div] [div class=info] [div class=post][div class=scroll] auriand sat silent. he was observing the tattoo that had bloomed on his forearm. he definitely isn't all for the whole 'soul guardians' idea. he had a hard enough time taking care of himself, and caring for a whole different human being wasn't gonna come easy. auriand was selfish- he knew that- it was a beset thing, and he couldn't forget that aspect of himself so easily. wallace was insane, thinking auriand could handle another human's life. he was broken from his stupor when he noticed sam look up; probably to see who she was assigned with. auriand contemplated just straight up telling her 'hey, i'm responsible for your life now, good luck', or just staying quiet. but, it seemed sam beat him to the decision, offering him a polite smile, in which auriand failed to return the favor. he looked up when she came towards him. oh lord. he nervously straightened his posture, trying to come off as respectable. even if he didn't much care for his soul guardian yet, he might as well make a good impression. his life was literally in her hands.

when sam stated her name, he nodded. "auriand." he said flatly. even when he tried to seem polite, his cold and apathetic tone of speech betrayed him "nice to meet you." he forced out. it sounded believable, but still, a bit strained. hopefully sam wasn't too observant since he didn't want his partner to think he was an asshole right off the bat. he put his hands in the pockets of his pants, tapping his foot nonchalantly as blackburn explained everything for the gala. he wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect- a social situation, wonderful. plus, a gala was meant for mingling, which was an act he didn't exactly enjoy. he'd probably at least get to wear something nice- he'd enjoy that, at least.

auriand got his room number, which he briefly glanced at. he looked at sam, nodding. "yeah. we'll probably run into each other at the gala." he said, despite the fact there was a good chance he'd just hide in a corner the entire time and try to avoid thorough interaction. he waved as she walked out of the room, a bit surprising considering auriand's usually antisocial nature. in a normal situation, he would've just let her walk off. not like this particular situation was anything near normal, though,

auriand was, decidedly, the second individual to leave the room. he muttered a quick 'see you all at the gala' before leaving. he looked at his piece of paper again for a reminder- "room five." he muttered to himself, opening the door to what he assumed was his dorm. it was minimalist, lacking any decoration. so, he could do as he pleased. his suitcase was placed carefully in a corner. he decided he'd sort through everything after the gala. he noticed the large closet, and opened it to see an envelope and a suit. he decided to grab the envelope first, carefully opening it and reading the contents left by the writer.

'mingle, try and make friends.' wallace was funny. he didn't know auriand very well, then. but, at least he got the part about this being the last place auriand wanted to be correct. auriand's ego felt pleased when he was called one of the smartest people on the team; that was nice to know, at least. he took the suit, looking at it. it looked quite nice, with the flower and all. he went to go change into it, mumbling something about socializing under his breath.

[/div][/div] [div class=pos][div class="round1 round"][/div] . [div class="round2 round"][/div] . [div class="round3 round"][/div] [div class=stats]c. mood: tense. | ment.: none. | int.: @Lunaa. | e.l.i.t.e ldn. base. | x.[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=container]height: 340px; max-width: 500px; padding: 10px; margin: auto; background: #696969 [/class] [class=image]height: 100%; width: 33%; background-image: url(https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/20268799cf5986f8d0aa23536137ac1e46a093833f334dfc5ca7dc3517716bd4/los-angeles-fashion-stylist-new-york-fashion-stylist-tiffani-chynel-mens-fashion-editorial-mens-red-carpet-advertising-lookbook-cole-sprouse-riverdale_preview-2.jpg); background-size: 200%; background-position: 55% 30% [/class] [class=blk]height: 100%; width: 65%; left: 35%; position: relative; top: -200px [/class] [class=title]position: relative; top: -120px; left: 0px; max-width: 235px; width: 100%; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 20px; color: #bc4060 [/class] [class=line]height: 1px; width: 100%; background: #000000 [/class] [class=lil]position: relative; width: 96%; text-align: right; font-style: italic; font-size: 10px; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #202020; [/class] [class=b]position: relative; left: 240px; top: -175px; height: 20%; width: 20%; padding: 5px; border-radius: 0px 100px 100px 100px; border: 1px solid #000000 [/class] [class=lilimage]height: 100%; width: 100%; border-radius: 0px 100px 100px 100px; background-image: url(https://66.media.tumblr.com/dd1b05f2d42fffc5fcd81b0ba87e186b/tumblr_inline_owun9pIEQ01qlt39u_250.gif); background-size: 200%; background-position: 60% 55% [/class] [class=info]position: relative; left: 0px; top: -165px; height: 245px; max-width: 310px [/class] [class=post]height: 190px; width: 101%; font-size: 10px; overflow: hidden [/class] [class=scroll]height: 100%; width: 100%; overflow-y: scroll; text-align: justify; padding-right: 30px [/class] [class=pos]position: relative; top: 15px; height: 35px; max-width: 305px; text-align: center; color: transparent; overflow: hidden [/class] [class=round]position: relative; display: inline-block; height: 25px; width: 25px; border-radius: 100%; background: #ffffff; transition: 0.7s; [/class] [class=round2]transition: 0.7s; display: inline-block; height: 25px; width: 25px; border-radius: 100%; background: #c0c0c0 [/class] [class=round3]transition: 0.7s; display: inline-block; height: 25px; width: 25px; border-radius: 100%; background: #000000 [/class] [class=bla]background: #ffffff [/class] [class=ble]background: #c0c0c0 [/class] [class=blo]background: #000000 [/class] [class=stats]position: relative; top: 10px; width: 100%; margin: auto;font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; color: white [/class] [script class=post on=mouseenter] addClass bla round1 addClass ble round2 addClass blo round3 [/script] [script class=post on=mouseleave] removeClass bla round1 removeClass ble round2 removeClass blo round3 [/script] [script class=pos on=mouseenter] addClass up round addClass up stats removeClass down round removeClass down2 stats [/script] [script class=pos on=mouseleave] addClass down round addClass down2 stats addClass up round addClass up stats [/script] [class name=up] animation-name: {post_id}up; animation-direction: normal; animation-duration: 0.5s; animation-delay: 0s; animation-timing-function: ease-out; animation-iteration-count: 1; animation-fill-mode: both; [/class] [animation=up] [keyframe=0]top: 0px[/keyframe] [keyframe=100]top: -30px[/keyframe] [/animation] [class name=down] animation-name: {post_id}down; animation-direction: normal; animation-duration: 0.5s; animation-delay: 0s; animation-timing-function: ease-out; animation-iteration-count: 1; animation-fill-mode: both; [/class] [animation=down] [keyframe=0]top: -30px[/keyframe] [keyframe=100]top: 0px[/keyframe] [/animation] [class name=down2] animation-name: {post_id}down2; animation-direction: normal; animation-duration: 0.5s; animation-delay: 0s; animation-timing-function: ease-out; animation-iteration-count: 1; animation-fill-mode: both; [/class] [animation=down2] [keyframe=0]top: -30px[/keyframe] [keyframe=100]top: 10px[/keyframe] [/animation]

 

[nymphadora.]

[class=block] width: auto; padding: 0px 4px 0px 4px; font-size: 10px; display: inline-block; color: white; [/class] [class=title1] line-height: 25px; font-size: 30px; padding-top: 20px; width: 165px; text-align: center; float: center; text-transform: lowercase; margin: auto; margin-left: 90px; margin-top: -8px; [/class]

[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]with

andrew + sam (mentioned).
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]tags

chamomile @Lunaa
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]location

the grand hall.
[div class=block style="background-color: #BB9079;"]outfit[/div] outfit > gala. [/div][/div]

[div class=title1]marina.

[/div]

Nina felt as if she was watching a cartoon; the swift motion of Blackburn’s fidgety hands and sing-song voice, floating like a melody. She wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or worried, perhaps both. Her eyebrow stayed raised during Blackburn’s cheerful monologue, her dark eyes following his movements with curiosity. Nina was stunned into silence, and before she could even process what happened in front of her eyes, Blackburn left the room.

The female gave a polite smile to Miss Colette as she was handed her room number on a piece of paper. Her focus flickered away from the paper and turned to Andrew once more. Nina’s feet began to carry her towards the door, spinning around as she walked backwards gracefully. With two fingers, Nina gave a playful salute to her partner and grinned, her thoughts speaking for her instead. See you in an hour, partner.

And with that, Nina bounced off, her dark ponytail following behind her.

Gussy up, huh. Nina thought to herself, unsure if her new ‘Soul Guardian’ heard her or not. Uncertainty swelled inside her chest as Nina’s fingers hovered over the tiny pendant that hung from her neck. It'd been a long time since Nina had attended a party that wasn't for work, let alone dress herself up for fun. The heels of her boots echoed through the set of stairs and down the hallway, following the girl who broke the bust from earlier. Nina double checked her number once more and made a bee-line to the door labelled number two.

The room was definitely swankier than she’d expected, but then again, Nina wasn’t sure what she was expecting. The apartment like room was barely covered, possibly to allow some creative expression in interior designing. The blankness of the walls and minimal furniture only made the female grimace; she didn’t have much to her name, let alone any money, due it to the little number of belongings she called her own was at home. Nina stood alone in the room, silence swallowing her like a warm blanket. Quietly, her jacket fell off her shoulders and was dumped at the edge of the bed aimlessly, kicking her boots off with ease as she headed into the bathroom.

Nina was greeted by the large mirror, reflecting her true appearance – which she hadn’t seen in a while. Her brown hues noticed the dark circles that began to form underneath, she looked like a recently deceased corpse than a person. Her body felt tired and tense – possibly from the jet lag, all she craved for was a hot shower. The feeling of hot water hitting against her skin was something she missed dearly; travelling on the streets certainly had its perks, but also very much had its downfalls, and having the luxury of hot water was one of them. Nina wandered out of the bathroom, drying her dripping hair with a soft towel as she moved towards the closet, pushing it open with her free hand.

Another piece of paper fluttered down to the ground, catching Nina’s focus as it fell. She bent down and picked up the note from the floor, opening the paper with her two fingers. Nina’s eyebrows furrowed together as she read the handwriting, studying the words that were etched in black ink. “Right, like he knows.” Nina scoffed, flinging the note over her shoulder without a second thought. Blackburn had no right to tell her what to do, it wasn’t such a bad thing to have a wall for safety.

Her hands grasped for the gift, hidden inside a black bag, unzipping it with one movement to expose a navy-blue dress. Nina paused for a moment; it’d also been a while since she had worn a dress – Nina had worn dresses for jobs, the type where her olive skin felt the chill of the wind and never finished below the ankle. Her eyes stayed focused on the fabric, studying the dress that hung from the coat hanger, a small smile grew on her lips as she began to change.

[/div]

 

[ShadyAce]

[class=variables] --color: #3f3d99; cursor: url('http://i.imgur.com/ZOrzC.png'), auto !important [/class] [class=container] width: 600px; height: 400px; margin: auto; display: flex; [/class] [class=img] background-image: url('https://iv1.lisimg.com/image/19076977/740full-kelsey-merritt.jpg'); background-size: cover; height: 400px; width: 250px; filter: saturate(70%); [/class] [class=scroll] overflow-y: scroll; padding-right: 40px; width: 100%; height: 100%; [/class] [class=right] width: 350px; height: 400px; overflow: hidden; font-size: 12px; [/class] [class=topRight] display: flex; width: 350px; justify-content: space-between; height: 30px; [/class] [class=name] font-size: 18px; font-weight: 900; transition: 0.5s; [/class] [class=tabsContainer] width: 230px; height: 15px; border-bottom: 1px solid black; display: flex; justify-content: flex-end; align-items: baseline; [/class] [class=imgSmallContainer] width: 80%; height: 70px; display: flex; justify-content: space-between; margin: 10px auto; [/class] [class=imgSmall] width: 90px; height: 90px; background-size: cover; background-position: 50% 50%; [/class] [class=block] width: auto; height: 16px; padding: 0px 2px 0px 2px; display: inline-block; background-color: var(--color); color: white; font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; [/class] [class=text] width: 190px; height: 180px; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class=content] height: 370px; width: 350px; text-align: justify; [/class] [div class=variables] [div class=container] [div class=img][/div] [div class=right] [div class=topRight] [div class=tabsContainer] [/div] [div class=name]clarisse reyes[/div] [/div] [div class=content] [div class=scroll] [div class=imgSmallContainer] [div class=text] [div class=scroll] [div class=block]location[/div] the grand hall > room #3 > the ball room.
[div class=block]tags[/div] ebb (interacted)
[div class=block]outfit[/div] x > gala dress [/div] [/div] [div class=imgSmall style="background-image: url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/4729ec6493341dbe1175ba8d8de945cd/tumblr_inline_pf27xjI3FS1qaypzc_1280.gif');"][/div] [/div]

Clarisse wasn't sure what she had expected, but none of this fit any sort of expectation. As swiftly as Blackburn had entered, he left abruptly, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind. How could anyone predict the whirlwind of rapid events they'd experienced? She still found her fingertips ghosting her arm, tracing the new tattoo there.

A small piece of paper was handed to her, the slip was straight forward, having only '#3' printed on it. "A bit of a waste of paper, but I guess that doesn't matter when you're a multinational secret organisation." Reese doubted anyone was listening, nor cared about what she had said. Admittedly, she was forcing her mind to focus on things other than the fact it felt like she'd sold her soul to the devil. "See you around, Soul Guardian." After a small wave directed towards the male—whose name she still didn't know—she was indisputably the fourth to exit the Grand Hall; the first two were the first pair that had been revealed, and the third was the woman of many faces. Each time she pondered on their combined abilities, Clarisse was simultaneously surprised, in awe and truthfully afraid. What could one (possibly insane) man do with these people at his fingertips, orchestrating them like string puppets?

The elevators and staircase to move between floors was thankfully easier to find than the Grand Hall. The copious amounts of hallways and paths was beginning to be disorientating. At least the doors were also simple—clearly labelled, lining one wall. She sauntered along the hallway, unlike the woman in room #2 who walked determinedly to her room. Even with her relaxed pace, Reese was in front of door #3.

The walls were notably lacking the extravagant decoration of the other interiors she'd seen here thus far, perhaps an invitation for the new inhabitants to personalize. But as her brown eyes drifted across the room, soaking it in, Clarisse didn't know what she'd change. The apartments she'd dwelled in for a large portion of her life never had much flavor to it, either a testament to their fleeting nature, or more frighteningly, her lack of individuality. Though a dresser with an empty top shelf made a smile creep onto her face, the worries melting away at the thought of a record player nestled there.

The size of the closet was a welcome change for Reese's old apartment though. Experimenting with clothes outside of the odd uniforms she had to wear for work had always excited her, it was something to get distracted by. The inside was empty as of now, except for a black garment bag resting on a rack, with an envelope and another piece of paper. She delicately picked up the envelope, shooting a glance around the room, as though she had to be covert about reading the hand-written letter. Despite hardly knowing the man, Reese could hear the thrill in Blackburn's voice and the glee in his eyes. Try not to sneak around? Reese chuckled to herself. The operative word was 'try', and who's to say her curiosity can't get the better of her?

Reaching the end of the note, Reese rolled her eyes. "Let loose, huh?" Nonchalantly placing the note on one the many empty benches, Reese knew the likelihood it would move from that position in the next few months was slim. Her focus then shifted to the other piece of paper, which was a map to guide them to the ball room. She figured that would useful beyond finding her way this one night. Finally, she unzipped the black bag, revealing a deep emerald green dress made of sheer, flowing fabric. Whilst it might've not been something Reese would've picked out herself, she was still pleased it wasn't unsightly.

After momentarily laying aimlessly on her new bed, Reese reluctantly launched into getting changed and ready for the gala, cleaning up her hair and makeup, Blackburn's comment on 'gussying up' nagging in the back of her mind. With ample amount of time to spare, she stepped out of the room, into the empty hallway, soaked in uncanny silence. Everyone had moved to their rooms, though she wasn't sure if anyone had begun making their way to the ball room. Map in hand, Reese began walking, glancing up occasionally to connect the features on the map to the rooms around her.

Eventually, she found herself standing in front of an imposing set of doors, towering over her despite her height. Reese glanced around apprehensively, pushing the doors open with visible effort. The room opened up significantly, with stained hard wood floors and cream—almost a light caramel—colored walls which had a few connected arches indented along them and grand ceiling heights. There was intricate designs on the skirting, and on the details on small balconies jutting out on each side of the room. It was lit by multiple crystal chandeliers dangling and glittering from the ceiling, as well as some lights on the pillars of the arches. And then there were the tables neatly spaced along the floor, overflowing with food—certainly too much for the eight of them. Or ten, if Blackburn and Collette intended on joining the group. There was no one else there; Reese was surprisingly the first and it was eerie seeing a room prepared for a gala, but no one to participate. A shiver ran down her spine.

Reese walked further into the room, cautious and continuously surveying her surroundings. From her absentminded roaming through the ball room, she stood in front of a table with four plates set out, their covers obscuring what was underneath. She leaned in, noticing a bolt intended to ensure the cover couldn't be removed. It brought her mind back to the four knives used to reveal the Soul Guardians, and Reese drew a shaky breath. What else was he going to make them do?

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