.::Bind::. (IC) A Square Peg and a Round Hole

Cyril Emilio Noctis, & Morgana Ella Ogmer

As Cody made his grand exit, Cyril merely rolled his eyes. The combine ideology wasn't the most appealing one. Either merging both worlds together would end in a war that'd take out both sides, or chaos reigns as those that would use their powers for more malicious means start global chaos. Unless the Combine can guarantee that anarchy won't break out, Cyril's and the pathetic combine will remain separate. Until the time comes that their goals conflict and they're forced to battle. Cody might be effective against a demon, but Cyril's all man. So is Morgana. No matter what spirit he can possess, he's still human. A simple poker card through his jugular should be enough to put him down. Eh. No matter. Cyril desires not to conflict with a apparently large organization, when all he wants is money. Where do you kids think I got my suit from... "Ogmer?" He turned to Morgana, "On a scale of one-to-ten, how horribly do you think the combine will fail?"

Morgana giggled, and put up nine fingers. Not a word came out of her mouth, like she usually was, she's silent because of her own decision.

"Good. Now our business here is far from over." Cyril said, grasping his chin, "Perhaps any of these people could be of use. They seem like they're... Helpful." He peered at his guests. Six people. Almost all of them were demons, likely. From the way they talked. He was unsure of what use they'd be... But demons are old. They've accumulated vast wealths. Perfect for the taking.

The first person to address Cyril was Apep. Speaking to the two of them like they were children. The guy was already irritating Cyril, but he was going to cordial. For now. His strength was unknown, and he was likely to have the ability to trounce both himself and Morgana. Fights that Cyril knew he wasn't going to win were fights that he wasn't going to participate in to begin with. "I would prefer that you didn't categorize us with her...." He pointed at Pink while the silly demon was off doing her own thing. "To me; there is profit to be made in war. If I really must fight, I will be there. Not on the front lines, of course. And for what side is... Undetermined." He looked at Apep, his gaze was set on him. Until the raven came down and a boy seemingly was the alternate form of the creature. Terrific. More monsters. The boy asked about what they think about the Combine's goals, and quite frankly, Cyril couldn't answer. It was a question for the super natural, and aside from his powers, Cyril's all man.

Leviathan "Pink"

"Young?!" Pink's voice was a mixture of a giggle and offended. The last thing that Pink was is young, despite the way she acts. Her comments were obviously directed at Apep. "I'm three-hundred years old! What do you have under your belt? Huh?! Huh?" She said, in a childlike tone. Other than that comment, she utterly ignored Apep. Focusing on her buds instead.

Maxx wrote:: "Thank you. That is very kind." Samael said "So what do you all think of this 'combine' ideology? I personally do not know what to think of it. While a world where monsters can roam free does sound tempting, I personally do not know how humanity would accept it."

"Does it matter!?" Pink said, in a comically cute and childish tone. Her views was that humanity didn't matter to her. They are nothing but an ant in the larger machine. Perfectly capable of being wiped out, so the demons and monsters can rule. "We can't share the world with them anyway. And we know that asking really nicely to coexist peacefully and that blah won't happen. Probably will have to wipe them out.. And maybe keep the really cute ones."

True Night wrote:: "Excuse me... anybody. Is all of this true? And does that mean... does that mean I'm not human?"

Once again Pink found herself laughing at someone like they were an idiot. She didn't know who this Emily girl was, and would have elected to ignore her. But the way she acts certainly provoked some interest from Pink. When the laughter stopped, a devilish grin had etched onto Pink's face. "Now, now, that should be a question you should be asking yourself..." She trailed off laughing, "Because we don't know you! You could be an alien for all we know!"

Back at the group gathered at Blake's house, the conversation had fallen once more into a deep, uneasy silence, upon Shayla revealing that, despite appearing to be a teenager, she was actually much older. After the silence grew unbearable, Paul started to feel guilty, despite not wanting to. Despite his desire to see these strangers as enemies, or at the very least, people he should be suspicious of, everything they did suggested otherwise. Although Paul likely could have killed the Dark Spirit himself, he had been distracted, because it had been attacking Nicholas. Shayla, for lack of a better word, had rescued them both, because she had still been able to think clearly enough to kill the monster before it killed the two humans. Despite knowing nothing about either Paul or the Alchemist, she had charged in and risked her own life to save them. He still found it difficult to grasp that Demons and Fay didn't seem to age. If that was so, how old was Shayla? How old was Blake? Their host talked more like an old man than a guy in his late teens.

He sighed, behind his mask, and pulled off his hood, revealing silky-looking medium-length hair that was straight, and a light shade of brown in color. He then reached up and put a hand to his mask, and, after hesitating for a moment, removed it, to show what his face looked like beneath. His features were all sharp, a triangular face, an aquiline nose, a strong brow. Removing the mask completed the empty places around the piercing amber eyes that were normally all anyone ever saw. He clenched the edge of the mask tightly in his hand, "Look, I'm sorry if I'm snapping at you people, but this is all a lot to take in, even for someone like me. I could handle a lot of things, but saying that I'm attracting Dark Spirits, that's painful to hear. The whole reason I go after them is so that they don't hurt people, and normal humans don't get involved." He folded his arms, one still holding the mask, "Not only that, I've never seen Demons, Fay, Mythical Creatures, or anything other than Spirits before."

Shayla folded her arms, still scowling a bit, "Well, that's to be expected. Humans are naive creatures, even if they are supernaturally gifted. Most supernatural beings know about all the factions, anyone from the human world is kind of just left floundering, because the only faction they know about is the one they belong to. Simple fact, though, is that we'd get a lot further in life if we could cooperate with humans that deal with the supernatural world."

Opal gasped a bit, "Shayla, you're not saying you want the Barrier gone, are you?"

Shayla swiveled to glare at Opal, "No, I am definitely not supporting the nuts that think getting rid of the Barrier is a good idea. I'm just saying those that are supernaturally involved should be allowed to communicate more often. I'm not saying we should destroy what keeps the world from falling into complete anarchy." She then turned to look at Paul, "As I was saying, Demons and Fay are quite capable of working with Seers and Alchemists, mostly, because of the fact that we live much, much longer. It takes time for Seers and Alchemists to discover all their transmutation circles or seals, a lifetime is needed to get a large number. Since we're older, and actually get affected by these things, we tend to learn and memorize them, just for our own protection. We could teach you two a lot of different things because of experience."

She leaned forward in her chair, putting her elbows on the table, "So, with that being said, Seer, I can teach you how to mask your energy so the problem of you getting tracked down goes away, and I can also teach you and the Alchemists a few tricks." She clasped her hands together, "The problem, being, that it's not nice to keep your name hidden, and I'm growing tired of trying to call you generic names."

Paul sighed, "The name's Paul."

Blake slowly rose from his chair, "Alright, then, so you're agreeing that we may teach you?" He asked.

Paul looked at Blake, "Yes." He then frowned, "By the way, how old are you, anyway?" He asked.

Blake didn't make a facial expression, "Many of your lifetimes." He said.

Paul frowned, "You're not going to give me a straight answer, are you?"

Blake shook his head, "No, I'm not going to tell you around an Alchemist. Lots of them are History buffs, and I don't want people asking me questions about what life in the past was like."

___________________________________________________________________________

Nicholas looked around as the conversation continued, before slowly clearing his throat, a polite way to gain attention, "Excuse me, so you'll teach me, too?" He asked.

Blake turned to him, "Yes, Nicholas, you, too. Something about those gloves you're wearing tells me that you're quite skilled. Both of those circles are more powerful, and difficult to master, than what an amateur could use, but you could still greatly improve upon the transmutations you already use. Shall we go into the basement, then?"

Nicholas frowned, "Basement?"

Blake nodded, "Of course, every secret room in the house should be in the basement." There was a slight hint of humor to the words. Suddenly, though, he was interrupted by Dixie, who tugged on his sleeve and pointed at a clock. Blake looked at it, and frowned. "I'm sorry, but that will have to wait. It's one in the morning, and you all have school tomorrow, I imagine."

Apep and Samael

"The humans won't just stop, Sun," Apep replied "they will keep fighting until we extinct them. They're never going to submit to us. If we destroyed the barrier, then every innocent demon and monster would be in the crosshairs. Hunters would no longer have to work in secret. They could invade our homes and kill us and our families in our sleep."

Apep was about to address Cyril when he sensed something very odd. He looked over at the girl Emily and visibly cringed. Something wasn't right about this girl. The fact that she didn't know she had supernatural powers while at the same time wasn't breathing was a definite red flag that she wasn't alive. Something was controlling her, like a sick meat puppeteer. He shrugged it off, though, and turned back to Cyril.

"And how do you, kid, expect to survive when there are SWAT teams and National Guard troops roaming the streets hunting you and your girlfriend down?" Apep responded. Samael observed what everyone was saying before he spoke again. He wanted to know their opinions first, and they seemed to be mixed.

"I personally don't know what to think." Samael replied to no one in particular "I mean, I don't particularly like my supernatural form, but if less creatures have to live in fear, then that would be better. I think there's some logistic problems too, though. I mean, how would one destroy the barrier? It's not a concrete object exactly."

"Spells, probably." Apep replied "That seer Cody seems to be really strong, stronger than even the top-rate hunters like Copeland. He can control dark spirits. That's what scares me the most about him. I can hold my own in a fight against seers, but no one here could fight off a swarm of dark spirits."

Cyril Emilio Noctis.

Maxx wrote:: "And how do you, kid, expect to survive when there are SWAT teams and National Guard troops roaming the streets hunting you and your girlfriend down?"

There was a need to be an utter smartass in response to Apep, but everything that this man said was just so amusing. Cyril, nor Morgana, don't have the raw brute strength and power that some have. And who's to say that the human race will turn against Cyril and Morgana? No one. Cyril isn't stupid, and knows what to do to survive. "Ah... Do you have precognition? Because, last time I checked, the future's one hell of a mystery." He gave Apep a sly smile, while tipping his hat to one. He wasn't taking the guy too seriously at this point. The way he constantly demonized humans was annoying, in fact, the whole situation was annoying. "Just because I'm not a demon that lived for centuries doesn't mean I can't handle myself." He gave Apep a narrow glare, before he continued, "But, I really don't think that no matter what I say will convince you of anything. My business here is over. I'll be going now." Hm. They should leave now. They should look into Cody and the Combine. They can control dark spirits... That's certainly interesting. Maybe it's a power that they can get for themselves. Play the Combine along for a little while. Perhaps get Cody on their side.

Cyril and Morgana quickly left the scene.

Sundara

Sundara scoffed. Apep had some points, but he was also a damned fool. "I think we have the advantage in the department. Aside from Seers the lot of them are blind to us. Anyone who doesn't wish to participate wouldn't have to, and any hunters going door to might as well paint a red x on their forehead." If anyone did that around here they'd be the first to die, by someone elses hand if not her own. She looked at her tails absent mindedly. "I also refuse to believe that the chosen are so soft." Looking at the remaining group she doubted that any of them had a family. Well she knew that Emily did, but her raging alcoholic of a father hardly counted. The poor girl was hardly even seen at her home. Then if they were so weak that SWAT or Nation Guard could do them in, their deaths would be on no consequence. There was no response to the comment about taking on a pack of dark spirits. She could in fact do so, if she was juiced up enough. Bragging wasn't her thing though. In any case she didn't plan on apposing him. Another among them could, unbeknownst to everyone else.

Morbus and Emily

Innocence. Life's greatest illusion and veil. The kind Emily had was his favorite. Genuine. Can't figure it out, and you won't until I let you. Even now scanning her thoughts she was actually considering that she could be an alien. What a hoot! Morbus was now rethinking his plans. Let the girl get close to one of these strangers, who by their very nature would inevitably get drawn into something dangerous. A situation that could be exactly what he needs to take control again. Her father's death was nothing by comparison to what he was capable of now.

"I'm not an alien... at least I don't think I am..." This was followed by a period of silence. "If you don't know what I am, or won't tell me, then what are you? What are you people?!" Her voice on the last part of her outburst. A deathly wheezing sound came from her motionless chest before dirty tears streamed down her face. Slowly they were replaced by a crimson trickle coming from the corner of her eyes, as if her tear ducts were depleted, yet something still wished for her to cry. Emily collapsed to her knees and rocked back and forth. She mumbled over and over "make it stop... make it stop... make it stop!" On the last one she grabbed her hair and screamed towards the heavens before her head fell into her bloodstained lap. Then she was so still and silent one might think she was dead.

Around seven-thirty in the morning, it seemed that Tuesday was going to be quite wonderful. The sky was a clear blue, with only the faintest scattering of feathery white clouds, slowly moving across the world above as they were carried by a gentle warm breeze, signifying once again, that Spring was starting to return. The students, back to school for the second day since Spring Break, still hadn't gotten used to the schedule, the pattern of waking up and going to bed when they were supposed to. Regardless, it was obvious that there was a clear difference between early birds and night owls, and who stayed up late, or went to bed early. Some students were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as some older teachers might say. Others looked like they just wanted to head home, crawl back into bed, and fall asleep until one in the afternoon. Other students were clever mimics, pretending to be wide awake, when in fact, they were about to pass out. Some did, which didn't please the highly dedicated teachers at all. Overall, the classwork assignments and lessons were still easy, but by tomorrow, they were likely to intensify, as two days should be ample time to return to a normal routine.

Everyone else who wasn't a student resumed their normal routines. Store owners and vendors returned to their respective places of work, employees came and turned on neon open signs, or flipped ones that said 'Closed' on one side, and 'Open' on the other. People began spraying store-front windows with cleaners, and wiping down the windows, proud of the products or services they sold. Gardeners proceeded with their rounds, mowing grass, if it was needed or scheduled that day, trimming hedges, weeding flower beds, and ensuring the town was nice and tidy. In one part of town, a brick layer was hired to restore a part of the paved road that had dented in from age and a complex array of cracks. The city was well-maintained, overall, independent as always.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Nicholas was in Paul's first-period class. Paul hadn't thought about it before, but now that he noticed, the Alchemist stood out like a sore thumb. It was actually a moment where he felt like slamming his head in the door, because of all the things he should have noticed, being as observant as he was, he should have noticed the kid that had saved his life in the past, although technically, Paul hadn't really gotten the best of looks at him. Nicholas was pretty quiet, somehow, he already had a book from the library and was reading it, waiting for the bell to ring so that class would start. Paul sighed slightly, and hunkered down in his desk, now wearing his typical casual outfit, which was a far cry from his Seer 'work' clothes, aside from perhaps the colors he preferred to wear. Still dark greys and blacks with canary yellow highlights.

His mind was also spinning, a bit. He was itching for school to be over with, so he could learn more about the supernatural world, which, as it turned out, was far greater than just spirits of the dead. Demons and Fay were real, and so were all the mythical creatures he thought were imaginary. It made his brain ask a million questions, like what did a dragon look like, or a unicorn? Did griffins really guard treasure, or was that just some idea because of the actions of a single member of the species. He also wondered what the nature of the restrictions on the two groups were. Not to mention, that there were Alchemists and Meta-Humans, two groups like him that were human, but with special powers.

He felt a balled up paper hit him in the back of the head, and looked down at it, before looking in the direction of where it had come from. Dixie, smiling with that strange, not-completely-awake-or-aware grin that kept reinforcing his idea that perhaps she was a little bit off. She wasn't a bad person, not in the slightest, but just a bit eccentric and wild, to his speculation. She waved at him, and Paul, giving an awkward smile, which, for him, was just the slightest turn of the corners of his mouth, raised one hand in a casual, cool response. He turned back in his seat and looked straight ahead, feeling somewhat worried. All these people, in the same room? Not to mention what they were, suddenly, class didn't have the same, comforting aura it normally did.

Morgyn smiled as she walked into the classroom. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was now wearing a plain light blue t-shirt along with some black Nike shorts and some blue tennis shoes. Basically, she was in her average athletic attire. Morgyn looked around the room for someone to talk to, her eyes slowly settling on Paul. Tan skin. Athletic looking. She had never really talked to him before, but she could talk to him now. He always seemed like a bit of a loner to her, which may have been why she hadn't talked to him much before. She liked talking to people, and it's always easier to talk when there's someone who talks back just as much. But then, now that she thought about it, a lot of people don't talk to people they don't know that much. Maybe that's what Paul was like.

Morgyn sat her backpack down at the desk beside Paul and slid into the seat before smiling at him, trying to think of what to say before finally just going with the casual, "Hey- what's up?"

((Short post-w00t!))

Paul was startled out of his distracted thoughts, but he masked his surprise quite well, "I'm sorry, what?" He asked, looking up at the girl who had asked the question. He registered she was the girl sitting in the desk next to him, and gave a small nod, the kind everyone did when they had affirmed they had seen someone before. Paul didn't know the girl, though, he didn't pay much attention to names, and he kept to himself, for the most part. The full meaning of the question finally hit him, "Ah, sorry, I was a bit distracted in my thoughts," he said, his expression still remaining its typical blank look, not smiling, but not hostile, either. "I'm doing good, except that I was up all night working on some stuff. Not wide awake, unfortunately."

Dixie, who was sitting behind the girl, reached over and tapped her on the shoulder, "Hey, can I join the conversation, too?"

Paul looked at her, "Ah, sure, Dixie." He said.

Again, today was just weird, and where was the teacher?

Sundara

As per her regular routine, Sundara was on her daily run. There was no change to her attire. A top, shorts, and Roman style sandals. When she first moved in fellow runners used to ask how she was able to take the impact. 'Repetition' she always told them, which was true enough. Of course she had much more practice than any mortal could ever receive. Over the years she'd transversed deserts and mountains with and without shoes. Several natural lifetimes on foot. All and all her workout schedule was extremely rigorous. Prior to now she had started off her day with two hours of yoga. Her form was the very same from when she first learned it, before it was modified by Swami Vivekananda and others before him. It was shameful than humans couldn't preserve ancient arts in their original form. Today Sundara had been in special need of being centered. The girl Emily, there was something severely wrong with her. In her opinion she shouldn't even be still alive. When she freaked out it was like she actually was. Never had she seen anything like it, and that was saying something.

Also there was the Combine representative, Cody. If he spoke true she would be getting contacted by them. It made her feel uneasy that she would be that easy to track down. Let them come and show me their mettle. Perhaps if they impressed she would consider joining.

Morbus and Emily

Another sleepless night. Were she even able to sleep, she doubtfully would have succeeded. What she had seen and heard played over and over again in her mind. Not even that part of her was completely functional. All these hallucinations made her unable to trust her senses completely. Strangest and worst of all she was unkillable, and that included from herself. None of her suicide attempts never reached fruition. Whatever she was it was the thing of fairy tales and science fiction. This was simply not possible, yet it was. Many time's she'd tried to wake up to no avail. Maybe she was in a coma or even worse, hell.

His host was doing a fine job of tormenting herself, so Morbus took a backseat for a while. He could sense her despair, so he let her wander aimlessly through the town unimpeded. If somebody approached her then he would get ready to play once more.

"Oh, just fantastic." It was 7:40 AM, and Marshall's car wouldn't start. That was an excellent way to start a new job. He wasn't 100% sure why he took this job anyways. Teaching had a terrible salary and the hunting would pay the bills for now. He had a mission to be going on, this english job was just taking up time. And now his car was being stubborn. He half-figured the stupid car knew he shouldn't be going and decided to be obstinate. He growled and kicked the gas pedal as hard as he could. Great; he was going to be late for the first day on a job he didn't have the time to have. He started the car once more. It wasn't the battery; he was somehow out of gas. Some kid must have siphoned it. He wondered if the kid last night had anything to do with it. Maybe she was a distraction while they took all his gas. Marshall put his hands back on the steering wheel and smirked for a quarter second as he reminded himself that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. It was settled; he would have to walk. Marshall threw the door open aggressively and stepped out into the road.

"GOD-DAMNED CHILDREN!" he yelled out "I HOPE THAT GAS WAS LEADED!"

A half hour later he arrived at his classroom, ten minutes late. He took a deep breath before entering to calm himself. It took him a good amount of effort to not blame these kids for the acts of others. This was an average english class, so they could be guilty. He tried to put this thought out of his mind as he stepped into the room. The kids were all chattering so loudly he could barely hear them. Three of them commented to themselves on his hat before he could hang it on a hook on the wall. He stood in the middle of the chalkboard with his hands behind his back, waiting for the kids to stop talking. Of course, they did not.

"All right, listen up y’all. I’m your substitute teacher Mr.Copeland, I taught school for 20 years in the inner city, so don’t even think about messing with me. You all feel me?" Marshall said rather roughly with undertones of anger. Several kids laughed as they got the Key and Peele reference.

"I kid, I kid." Marshall said, a wry smile escaping his face "I'm Mr.Copeland, your English teacher for the rest of this year. Your past teacher is...out of commission, so I will be taking over in her place. I think somebody in the faculty lounge said something about her being swooped up by a pterodactyl. You would be surprised how often that happens to teachers." More laughter. What was funny is that they thought he was joking.

"Anyways, so does anyone here know approximately what material we were reading before the break? I was not informed beforehand."

Nicholas, two desks from the front of the class, and sitting to the opposing side of the room from the door, raised his hand, holding a thick paper-back copy of the book the English class was reading, "Uh, Mr. Copeland, sir, we finished the last book we were assigned before Spring Break. Ms. Yale was going to have us read October Sky, next. She already set out the class copies." He lowered his arm, and meekly pointed at the table, stacked high with multiple copies of the book he had just mentioned. Nicholas spoke very respectfully, and the honest truth was, considering he also had a library book just as large as the class copies sitting on his desk, as well as an unzipped backpack that was filled with what looked like textbooks meant for multiple advanced subjects, not linked to the school curriculum at all, it seemed that he didn't belong in the regular class. There was also the long wavy black hair, and the perfectly round glasses that didn't belong to this day and age. He stood out quite awkwardly among the students, a clear intellectual of sorts, and one who dressed like it. If Marshall focused very closely, however, and he was familiar with the group, he would catch the distinct energy of an Alchemist coming from the student.

Further in the back, a few other students, including Dixie and Paul, all raised up their books to show they had already gotten them, saying nothing, as though in silent agreement with the first kid who had spoken. A few students turned in their desks to look at the kids in the back, wondering how it was that the people in the back, traditionally viewed as slackers, were the first to get class-copies. Paul wasn't well-known on a personal level, but most people at least knew that he had a good sense of style, and a cool, collected attitude. What he had been doing, talking to Dixie, nobody could really be sure. Dixie wasn't personally known, either, but she was better known than Paul was. Everyone considered her to be a little 'off', and sometimes treated her as one would a hyperactive puppy. Some people, though, suspected that under all that excessive energy, and lack of an attention span, at that, she was really as sharp as a tack.

If Marshall was familiar with Meta-humans, he would immediately recognize Dixie as one, based on her energy. Paul, on the other hand, was quite obvious. His Seer energy was remarkably powerful, even though he wasn't doing anything to actively control it, either to suppress or increase output. It was also somewhat chaotic, so filled with movement that it's rapid fluctuations seemed in complete conflict with his outward appearance.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Near Sundara, a person rounded out of a hidden place, his or her energy so faint, that one wouldn't think it was strange, or even worth noting. As this stranger approached the demon, however, she would become aware that their energy was, in fact, highly unusual, because in addition to typical human signs, there was also something animal about them. This person, at first glance, appeared to be an African-American male with the hood of his jacket pulled over his head, but upon closer examination, his skin was revealed to actually be small black scales, and his eyes were slightly elliptical in appearance. He stopped a short distance away, and silently held up a small round badge of sorts, the blurred lines indicating he was with the Combine.

As it turned out, the Combine was incredibly good at finding people, and with low-energy creatures like Chimeras, they had an advantage most wouldn't think of. It was clear what the man was, and nobody would think there was anything strange about him unless they looked very closely. He was also non-threatening, despite his reptilian appearance. It was clear this was the contact that was supposed to locate Sundara.

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