My Daddy Death. [Invite/Permission. Accepting]

Name: Stephen Crepsley

Nicknames: Steve (by most people)

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Appearance: Light brown, straight hair that falls randomly just above his hazel eyes. He is 5'11" and has a strong build though he doesn't do any sports outside of school. Due to his constant fighting, he often has a black eye or some other battle scar on his face or body. Mostly wears a simple T-shirt and sweater with jeans, doesn’t care much about his appearance and just throws whatever he can find on in the morning. He is slim for his age and has no other distinguishing characteristics.

Spoiler

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Personality: Steve is a very caring person. He has very strong and often unorthodox beliefs about what’s right and wrong, for example he doesn’t believe that taking a life is all that bad a thing but rather causing pain is something awful, he is still against killing people due to the fact that those they leave behind are caused a great amount of grief. Has no religious views and doesn’t really care what other people’s views on the matter are. He doesn’t enjoy fighting and mostly keeps his head down and tries not to make any sort of commotion, but at the same time he finds himself in a fight almost every week if not multiple times a week. He finds himself in these fights not due to his own design but instead finds himself protecting those weaker than him from others whether it be verbal or physical abuse he will not stand for it. Despite not being extraordinarily athletic he normally wins most of his fights due to experience. For this reason he is not very popular and even those he protects view him as nothing more than a delinquent who uses them as an excuse. He has a few close friends and is happy about it.

History and family life: For obvious reasons he never met his father but strongly believes he's a deadbeat who knocked up his mom and then ditched. His mother died in childbirth and he now lives with a foster family. His foster family consists of a mother, father and three younger siblings, two brothers and a sister. He was adopted due to his foster parents believing they couldn't have kids, ironically just a few months after adopting Steve she got pregnant. They treat Steve the same as they would if he were their own. They told Steve from a young age his history and when they adopted him they didn't change his last name, their family name is Henderson.

Dreams: Steve doesn’t really have any dreams. He’s perfectly content with his life as it is. He isn’t really one to look to the future much and only has a very basic outline for his life after high school which like many of his friends does include leaving reaper but for him it’s only due to there being a lack of a good university in the region.

Likes and dislikes: Steve dislikes all people who pick on people who are weaker than they are or who lords their power over others. His like and interests are mainly reading and friends. Likes most kinds of music but doesn’t pay much attention to latest trends so he mostly ends up listening to older music.

Up for love: yes, though as his powers mature and his bloodlust increases he grows more and more afraid of getting close to someone, terrified that he may lose control and hurt them.

Other worldly entity: Demon

Entity appearance: Jet black hair and very dark red skin. Slightly curved and pointed nails. Eyes turn a very dark almost black shade.

Powers: Greatly increased physical abilities (sight, strength, speed, hearing, ect.). Nails and teeth become stronger than most metals. The ability to bend weaker wills (ex. if someone doesn't feel right about something or is undergoing emotional turmoil they can become vulnerable to manipulation, has very little to do with intelligence). Extreme bloodlust and literally feeds (doesn't need it to live but increases all powers) off of misery, suffering, despair, pain and death, you know, all that fun stuff.

Reserving a son of death. Profile will be up soon

Spoiler

You guys ready? I promised LoyalHeart I would start today. .

Jezebel Taylor | Angel

The dark sun was just beginning to set, just starting to hide among the sky. Light blue was gathering accents of pinks and purples, gradually getting darker every minute. From where I reside, I could see almost everything. How perfect the sky looked, the most popular stores in town, and even the highschool. If this was any normal town, living where I do, could cause problems, but not in Reaper. Nothing abnormal ever happens in Reaper.

My house was average, like most of them in this town. Though it looked expensive, it wasn't what you expect inside. On the outside, everything was drawn together with a tall oak tree, giving it a plantation feel. The house twisted in odd shapes and angles, with large panels of windows over specific walls that poked out beyond most. The inside, however, consisted of the basics, two bedrooms, a decent livingroom, a large kitchen and a small bathroom. Out of all, none of these things interested me as much as the backyard.

In the backyard is where I sat, unwinding from the stress of the day like normal, talking it out. I was placed on a small wooden swing attached to a tree that gave perfect support by it's sterdy branches. My words were cut short abruptly by a searing pain in my chest. The agony showed no mercy, my heart felt as if someone was attempting to tear my delecate beating heart through my chest, but it was caught by the bones surrounding it, causing it to be shread into peices.

My shoulders lurched forward, making my back create an arc. The pain in my chest wasn't slowing down. I couldn't feel myself breathe, but I wasn't gasping for air. It seemed like my body had prepared for whatever was happening, but my nerves weren't. I felt an electric shock through my left arm, beginning at my middle finger. The shock turned into a burn, I was being molded. I clutched my arm, just below my black glove at my wrist, my eyes closed as I constantly screamed in agony just wanting the pain to end. I could feel each strip of leathery skin conforming with a hard surface. Metal. When I opened my eyes, they were drowning in tears, and were burning red. What was left of the sunlight shone off of metal, only making the pain worse.

Every inch of my body was shaking in terror. I was so stunned by the suffering that I didn't realize the pricking needle sensation on my left thigh that was the spiral tattoo inking permately onto my skin. Chills were sent like a wave through my body. Seconds after, I went completely numb, finally giving me a chance to breathe without screaming. The small inkling of numbness felt like paradise, but paradise didn't last. I thought it was over, but to my dismay, I was horribly wrong. The partial numbness made my next transformation the worst yet.

My body was like an 'o' my torso curled and my legs brought forward on the seat of the swing. The last screams were the worst of all, shrill and echoing, filled with horrifying emotion. In between my shoulder blades, my skin ripped as easily as paper, followed by my shirt. Black bat-like wings projected and unfolded barely missing the rope that held the swing, and myself, up. Without a second inbetween, a second set of wings forced themselves through my skin, slightly above the others, the jolts of pain replicating the moment before.

After the wings fully unfolded, my body throbbed and ached. The uncontrollable pain had stopped, but I was terrorized. I couldn't move, I just sat in the same fetal position until I heard a familiar scream. My face shot up, white eyes glowing. I jumped down, and took off running. I wasn't sure where, but I was following the echoing sound of the yells and screams. My wings were pulling against my torn skin that was now closed off. With every step I could feel myself getting lighter and lighter until I took flight. My eyes grew wide and my red hair was pushed behind me by the wind. I looked down, and was shocked by what I saw.

(Jezebel Is watching someone else transform.)

Sorry Guys... I'm going to have to pull out.

Pandora Eris - Walking Home - The Day Setting

I walked down the street with Brandon as we talked about a variety of different stuff, Brandon was always a weird guy. But he was one of those guys that you could only understand if you got to know him, his thick black hair that hangs over his eyes and electric blue eyes. Always made me think he was cute, maybe even take a step further with him and go into a relationship with him. But not without fathers word, who knows how he'll react if he found out that I was in a relationship with a boy. I soon arrived home and I said farewell to Brandon and soon turned and looked at the cross of Jesus Christ hanging from the door. I opened the door and was greeted by my father who looked at me with his kind eyes.

"Welcome home my daughter, how was your schooling?" He asked his voice gentle but strong.

"Yes father, I look forward to tomorrow for church and my baptism." I said.

He nodded with a smile as he scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I look forward to it to my daughter, I have informed the church that you will soon become a priestess for our church." He said.

I nodded as I soon found myself upstairs in my room, I opened the bible and read many a verse from it as I studied each one with ever increasing memorization of it. When I looked at the clock again I saw it was already close to bed time, I soon got into my pajamas and went and covered myself up. I placed the bible on my nightstand, as I looked up to the cross that hung on my wall, but soon I felt a pain in my chest. It was terrible it felt like someone was trying to tear it out, I stifled a scream as I looked up at the cross that hung on the wall. I whispered a prayer. And suddenly the pain stops as fast as it comes, relived and slightly out of breath I soon fall asleep hoping that wouldn't happen again.

Hunter | Walking through streets

I walked through the passages, the town of Reaper suddenly dimming to moonlight. I told Xander I would meet up with him at his place, we always took a walk around the village at night. It was normal for us, he was the only one that really understood me, considering we were best friends.

I finally got to his door, his mother opened it when I knocked on the door. "He'll be right out," She says, flashing a smile. I flashed a smile back just as Xander came out.

"Hey," I say and we start walking.

I look up at the moon and somehow feel...darker. I look over at Xander as we start to talk about the stuff we always talk about. Our future, what's been happening to us lately.

When we circled back around to his house I said goodbye before I started walking home. Pain shot me and I stopped halfway, my very being turning see-through. My hair turned dark black and my eyes turned red. Before I realized what I was doing, I ended up with fire surrounding me, and I ran as fast as I could home.

Brandon - On the Streets

Walking Pandora home like usual was always my favorite time of the day. She was the closest thing I had to a friend, and the only one who'd never ask about my past or home life, the only one who I felt comfortable with talking to. She was the only one who helped me escape from my problems.

We soon approach her house and bid each other farewell, leaving me to head home as well. I think of my nephew and sister, which makes me think of my brother and mom. Coming down from the lift of spirits that Pandora always brought me, I step into my house and make supper for the three of us, even if only my nephew and I would bother to eat it.

After making sure my nephew was set, I lock the door to my room and get ready for bed. Staring up at the ceiling, I set my hands behind my head and think about the hell I'd have to visit tomorrow, the next day, the next... So ordinary.

A sharp pain shoots through my chest and I gasp, sitting up and clutching my heart. I bite my lip, used to muffling my pain, and hold my breath until it passes. It numbs for a moment, then comes back just as horrible. I bury my face in a pillow and allow myself to cry out. Something burns like hell behind my eyes and something else rips in my back. As if someone slit a knife along my spine, my skin opens up and tears my shirt. Something dark yet thin sprouts and hangs over my back.

Then the pain stops. I open my eyes, finding them sore and uncomfortable, and glance back. Wings... Bat-like wings hang from my body, looking quite like a creature from a horror movie I'd watched. I carefully stand, my head spinning and feeling like it's splitting in two, and walk into the bathroom. My eyes aren't blue. They're blackish purple.

No...What's happening? What am I?

Stormy

Everything about me looks different. I used to be so happy, so vibrant and alive. Now my reflection shows none of that--none of the girl I used to be. Anyone who knew me before the accident would be able to see it, and anyone who didn't would only see a damaged girl. That was what I was though, right? Damaged beyond repair, unable to be loved the way I used to be?

Even my brother looks at me differently, like he isn't sure if he should be glad I'm alive, or mad that I was the reason our mom wasn't. Sarah, my brother's girlfriend, looks at me with pity, something I've grown to hate. People act like I'm so fragile, like I'm a piece of glass about to break, and at times I am, but I'm also strong--something I had to learn how to be in front of my brother.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, all I feel is hate--hate for what I'd caused, hate for feeling so lost and confused, and most of all hate for what I was turning into. I wasn't just a damaged girl, I was something worse--a damaged girl who refused to accept help. I didn't want to get over my mother's death, I wanted to mourn for the rest of my life.

A soft pain began in my chest, and at first I thought it was from the loss of my mom. I'd felt it so many times before, but when the pain began to grow, to hurt so much I was doubled over, clutching at my heart, I realized it was something more. My eyes were squeezed shut, but I could feel something was changing me, something very physical. Pain exploded in my back and I felt something caress my sides. When I opened my eyes, I saw that it was wings, black as night. My skin was a different color, charcoal and when I touched it, it felt like leather. My head snapped up to look in the mirror and a pair of black eyes greeted me. My eyes.

The hollow, ice blue I'd grown used to was gone, replaced with something sinister and otherworldly. My beautiful white curls had turned black, horns protruded out from my temples. Shocked, I ran my hands through my hair and gingerly touched the rough horns. What was happening to me? What was I? Something moved behind me and I realized, with a sick feeling that cannot be described, that it was a tail.

Backing away from the mirror, I began shaking my head and blinking, as if that would make the image go away. But it wouldn't, I realized as I felt the wall against my back. I was something different--something evil and otherworldly.

Shaun Keats

The evening was an odd time of day to walk dogs, but it had completely slipped my mind that afternoon. Today was a big day, too--I had a beagle, a retriever, two terriers, and the biggest German shepherd I'd ever seen. And that one was a tugger--he was leading the way, not me.

I strolled down the quiet boulevard, surrounded by my five furry, scurrying charges. Reaper, despite its name, was exceptionally pretty in twilight. The grass was mowed, the shrubs were trimmed nicely, and there weren't any weeds in the medians. Plus, most of the neighbors kept flower gardens, which helped to add a little color to the scene.

This street was near the outskirts of town, in a plain but peaceful area. The houses were a little smaller here, but they were quaint, and looked right at home on the quiet avenue. There was one house, though, that didn't quite belong. It didn't look quite as nice as the others--there was no garden, the lawn hadn't been mowed recently, and the porch looked like it could use some work. This was where one of the kids lived--one of the girls, I think. I stopped in front of the house and let the dogs sniff around, trying to remember which one of them lived here.

It was Stormy--that was right. She lived with her brother and his girlfriend. That was what was different about this house--the others were happy, their windows bright, kids running around the yard during the day. This house was sad, subdued, almost lifeless.

I resisted the tugging of the dogs, and watched the house as darkness fell. It seemed to become even sadder as the color leached out of the landscape. I tilted my head to the side and stared at the forlorn little house. The dogs were starting to get restless, but I didn't want to leave yet. I hadn't spoken to Stormy much before the accident, but I hadn't seen her at all afterward. Mahi had told me she wasn't doing well, but I hadn't worked up the courage to visit her.

Suddenly, the dogs went nuts. The giant German shepherd yanked his leash right out of my hand, knocking me over in the process, and bounded toward the house, barking like mad. I scrambled to my feet and followed him. Something was really wrong inside--I could sense it. Stormy's brother and his girlfriend weren't home, but I knocked on the door anyway. "Stormy!" I called, giving the door a hard rap. "Stormy!"

Stormy

There was a knock on the front door and I stumbled forward, avoiding my reflection as I headed out of my room. My chest was still hurting, the pain so unbearable I thought I was going to die. When I finally stumbled my way into the main hallway of the house, I'd knocked several collectible vases over along with pictures of my mom and brother. Bu the time I was to the door, I was on the floor, clutching my chest again.

"Go away!" I yelled as another knock echoed down the hall. I hated to be rude, but it was obvious that there was no other option. I wasn't about to be seen like this, people would think I was a demon. Maybe I was, but I didn't want everyone else to hate my family because of something I'd turned into. "Go away." I said weakly as tears fell from my eyes.

Shaun Keats

"Go away," Stormy called from inside. Her voice wavered, and then died.

I shook my head. I couldn't just leave; what if something was really wrong? I had definitely felt something there--something that reminded me of my boss, and not in a good way.

I finally turned away from the door and started gathering up the dogs. The smaller ones were sitting calmly, but the giant shepherd was still running around, tearing up the lawn. I had to chase him for a while before I finally caught him, and even then, he tried to tug his leash away. Once I had all of them under control, I tied them to a fence post and sat down on Stormy's porch. I just had to see what was happening. She'd come out sometime...wouldn't she?

Stephen - school - in between class

It was another fight. It was my first day back from being suspended for doing exactly this just a few days ago. I staggered backwards from a blow to my jaw, that's what I got for getting distracted in a fight. Tuning back into the fight I feinted to the right, quickly followed by a strong punch to the gut. I backed off for a second to catch my breath and give my opponent (I didn't even know his name) a chance to yield (they rarely did but I still gave them a chance). The fight continued like this, trading blows always giving a few more than I took and giving my opponent a chance to flee (I even asked him a few times if he wanted to stop but I think he thought that I was taunting him, the crowd certainly did).

After a patricianly vicious blow to my head, I stumbled back dazed, when suddenly I was struck with an intense pain radiating from my heart. When the guy I was fighting saw that I was stunned, he immediately leapt on top of me driving me to the floor where he proceeded to pound on my face. The combination of the pain was too much for my brain to handle and I slipped into unconsciousness.

I woke some time later in the nurse’s office with a pounding headache and pins and needles running all along my left arm. After giving myself a few minutes to gather myself I straightened up and walked over to the mirror mounted on the wall above the sink. My face was a lot better than I thought it would be, badly bruised but the swelling had already gone down and he figured if left alone it would be better within the week, I had always been a fast healer after all.

Glancing at the clock I saw that there was only half an hour left of school and went back to the bed to sleep off my headache, having completely forgotten my previous heart pains and wishing that I had some ibuprofen.

Xander Liam - The Previous Night - With Hunter

I was sleeping on my bed on top of the covers for almost an hour before I heard the doorbell ring. I awoke in a cold sweat, a nightmare still tugging at my soul. The same one that keeps coming back, every night.

In a clearing, no - not a clearing

A graveyard -

I can fill a fire running through my body, but still I can feel a chill in the air

Something right

I turn around, I see a hooded figure. He's holding a scythe, staring at me.

I can't see his eyes or his face through his hood.

The last thing I remember is him rushing toward me, I always wake before his scythe hits me...

- My mother calls me, I almost object to coming downstairs. I felt like someone had just ripped out my stomach and smashed me in the head with a hammer. Every time I blinked my head hurt more, moving was an effort.

No, it's late; it's probably Hunter. And I don't want to disappoint her

I go downstairs, I pass my mother. She gives me a kiss.

"Your father is at work for the night, and I'll be asleep when you get home." she says.

I say good bye and walk out with Hunter; her hair shining in the moonlight, but the world seemed darker tonight.

We talked about things we usually talk about, life, our futures. She confesses that she's been feeling weird lately. I don't think she notices that I'm sick, I'm pretty good at hiding my emotions.

When we part, I walk through my door closing it behind me. And collapse immediately on the floor, a gut wrenching pain in my chest. I almost scream in pain, but after a moment. The pain subsides, and I walk up to my room and fall into bed. Not caring to change.

What's happening to me?

Jezebel Taylor | Angel


Everything around me was happening so fast. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear and feel the pain the others felt, more diluted, of course. The wind blew my flaming hair in various directions, and In the depths of my mind, I could hear ragged breathing, and heavy footsteps together with an echoing thump of bodies collapsing. What was going on? What were these noises?

An unbelievable weight crashed on my body, making it hard to stay in place. I was pushed back and forth by the gentle air like a leaf floating from a tree. Before I realized what was going on, added pressure jolted on me. My eyes burned with a horrible tingling sensation, and the next blast of wind forced me towards a house I wasn't familiar with. The boney black wings folded flat against my back, and were followed by the white feathers of the angel-like set.

Falling, falling fast towards Earth. Air burned my face as a fell, whiping my hair upwards and allowing it to slash my face like razor blades. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't close my eyes, The wind kept them open, and my body began inpact. My arms flailed, reaching for anything possible to grab onto before I connected with the ground. My hands latched around the edge of a roof, but certainly wouldn't stay, the roof broke off in my hands as I connected with the hard surface below. My vision was filled with stars, and breathing seemed impossible. I couldn't move. Suddenly, I heard a door open near me, but I couldn't see more then dark hair framing a male face.

Brandon | Incubus

I stare at myself in the mirror for a while, unable to grasp the fact I have wings and my eyes are a different color. The pain stops soon after and I'm left just standing there. Every way I look at myself, I can't find words to describe the emotions, or lack of, coursing through my veins.

Something falls off the roof outside and I feel my wings fold into my back. I throw a bathrobe over my back and rush to the front door, knowing my aunt wouldn't come to it. Opening it, I freeze when I find what's on the ground. Or rather, who.

Before I know what I'm doing, I'm hovering above the girl. I check her pulse, realizing she's still somewhat conscious, and hesitate before scooping her up and taking her inside. Carrying her into the house, I close off the den and find a blanket to drape over her.

Could I be what she is?

I remember my dark wings and dark eyes and shake my head, coming to the conclusion we're not the same. Crouching before her, I take a deep breath and piece together my question before daring to speak.

"Who are you?" I whisper, "And...what exactly are you?"