Village of the Damned (All Are Welcome!)

Pain, death, repetition, and fear... This is what a certain village is based upon. No one can leave, no one can visit. All die, all live. In a small village in the middle of no where, the people have become accustom to a life based around such horrible feelings. Every two months, an unknown creature that pillars over the tiny village rampages through homes and farmland just for the thrill of killing. This creature is known as "Byatha". Not only does Byatha appear, but a swarm of locust-like beasts bring turmoil too. They are the size of a 10 year old human child and feed off of human flesh, livestock, and plants. 

This day is known as "Herhaling" or Day of Repetition. The giant creature and the locust infest the village, killing the population until 150 of the 200 people are gone. Once 50 remain... it's as if time rewinds itself and gives the humans a second chance to end the attacks. All the food and livestock are fine, all the humans who were killed are resurrected, and the destruction has been repaired. The only thing that never leaves are the memories of death, the feelings of being killed and watching others be killed. 

People who are killed by the attack live again; however, time doesn't rewind. The village simply renews itself to how it was two months ago. People may still pass away from old age or suicide, but if they are killed on Herhaling, they are brought back. 

So many have given up hope of fixing their lives... some don't know a life away from this... And most are just maddened by the many times they have been killed... And there are a couple that want to put an end to all this. So, what are you?

Rules

1. No Godmodding, bunnying, or metagaming of any kind unless given permission by the creator of the character you plan to take control over.
   
2. The goal of the rp is to escape or stop Byatha from attacking, not to woo someone. Sure, romance is fine, even encouraged, but I want this to be more... plot driven.
   
3. Yes, you may play an insane person, but at first sign that they are becoming so annoying that the creators want to kill them... so help that insane character or he dies. Good? Great!
   
4. Have fun! Otherwise what is the point in making this? D:
   
5. Spamming the rp is forbidden. I don't want that.
   
6. Please don't use text talk, try your best to spell words correctly, and remember that one word isn't a reply! 
   
7. You may have multiple characters if you so desire as long as you can balance them and keep up.
   
8. My word is law. Any and all who disobey will not see the light of day.
   
9. My cookie jar is to be left alone or else >_> 
   
10. Magic exists in this village, but if I deem a power too Mary Sue-ish, I highly recommend changing it or adding weaknesses.
    
11. If you don't know me, you catch on fast that I use a lot of detail in my bios... You do not have to go to an extreme with bios, I am just crazy. I want more detail than "He is tall, dark, and handsome." but that's it. Bio length isn't a big concern. Same with Replies. I want more than "He sat down." but besides that... you should be safe for the most part.
    
12. This rule exists only to have an even number of rules because the host is OCD.
    

Characters
Jestain Du’Marix- Macha

Bio Template
Note: Bios must be approved by me before you can post anything more.

Code:

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age: [/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[i]Skills/Abilities:[/i]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]

Questions, comments, concerns? Say them! I don't bite (normally) and I see myself as a nice person... So... yep. Have fun!

Name: Jestain Du’Marix. (Goes by Jest)

Age: He forgot, but doesn’t look all that old.

Gender: Male

Skills/Abilities: Jest has two magical abilities. The first one, is over time. But only in a few regards. These being, he has a stronger sense over what people might call “A sixth sense.” To clarify he can’t change time, he can’t move backwards in time. He can’t change the course of time. But what he can do is react to what will happen. He gets a feeling over what is about to happen, and can react accordingly. For example, if you try and shoot him in the back, he will get a feeling that it will be about to happen and might suddenly in your eyes to just dive to the side as your about to pull the trigger. Another example could be if you are planning on taking something of his, like a bite of food, or a coin. He might bring such an item closer to him. He will never know specifics, like who is going to shoot him. Or who is going to try to steal from him. But he will get a feeling that this event will happen and his body will naturally react to the event. Think of it like Spider man’s Spidey sense.

His second power is over illusions. How this power came up, you can find out later on in the bio. In the early stages of his life (infant, toddler…around that time frame), it seemed like a knack for making things disappear. Like a magician doing slight of hands. As he grew older this skill never really improved, he mainly got better at doing actual sleight of hand, and using the trick in case he got caught in the sleight of hand. It wasn’t until a specific event that he was actually able to gain full use of this ability, at the cost of a dampening of his other magic ability. The increase of his skill, lets him change appearance, size, shape, form, color, taste, smell, ect. Of himself or any object he can touch. Organic objects or things that were once organic, he finds easier or harder to change. It all depends on what he is trying to illusion about the object. If it happens to be something similar to the object originally was, it is an easy task. If he is trying to make an apple be an orange, he has much more of an issue. In organic objects also have a varied difficulty as it depends on his goal with it is. If he is trying to make a sword look like a loaf of bread, he will be having issues. But if the sword is meant to look like an axe…it won’t nearly be such a problem. His illusions last for an hour after touching something. Since his event, he has in fact used such a skill to pay for things with little bits of cheap iron, making them into valuable coins to buy things.
Note: This skill over illusions grows stronger the more fractured his mind becomes. While his skill over Time grows weaker the more his mind grows fractured.
He is known to use weapons though the two different weapons he uses seem to be polar opposites. When he was younger, he wanted to learn a good pairing to his sense of power. So he learned how to use a staff. A weapon really good at reacting to whatever is used to attack the wielder, but it is also a weapon that is designed to be non-lethal. This was his goal, and so he learned how to be a great fighter with it.
When his Event happened, his personality changed into something different. So gone was the staff and instead it was replaced by an instrument that he found great amusement in. Two pouches rest on the back of his belt, inside each pouch are a fair number of metal cards that he uses with great accuracy. The edges of the cards vary depending on the card, they range from blunt to razor sharp, even serrated cards exist.

Appearance: When looking at Jestain you might see an unassuming person, someone who is on the shorter side, with dark hair that always seems to get in his eyes. Dark green eyes, with flecks of gold throughout them. He is skinny, skinny to the point of seeming malnourished, though that comes from where he has been kept and not his own doing. In his left ear is a gold loop, covered in pointless runes, and across that same sides’ eyebrow is a scar that ends right above his eye.
For clothing he at the start of the roleplay would be in rags, but when he gets his stuff back his normal garb is a set of soft grey leather armor, with little studs covering the forearms. His feet are in similar boots, that help him stay quiet no matter what terrain he is walking across. Around his head he will be wearing a black bandana with the silver markings of a cresent moon turned on its side so that the points point down towards his face. A silver dagger pierces that moon, with the blade pointing to his hair. He wears a black belt instead of the grey of his armor, attached to this belt at the back, one over each butt cheek are pouches whose contents you can read above in Skills/Abilities. Beyond that he usually has a four foot metal staff.

Personality: Jest has two different distinct personalities. The first is the more uncommon one. It is completely sane, and It is the personality that he had before his Event. He was a calm, dedicated person. Always willing to help out anyone who needed it. He worked diligently to assist anyone in need, always working for others before he did anything to help himself. This personality had its faults though, as it wasn’t uncommon for him to fall asleep at odd times, due to him usually helping others than actually getting rest for himself. Jest was also known to have a cold temper when it came to people fighting or doing things he viewed as needlessly stupid. This personality is rare for him now, and only comes rarely through the haze of his mind.
To explain the other side of his personality, one must learn of the Event that changed him. A few years into the arrival of the giant and his army of bugs, Jest did something that was deemed irredeemable. He killed and slaughtered his entire family. From the old to the children. None were spared. When the authorities came to investigate the screaming, they found Jest standing in the midst of a bloodbath, leaning on his staff while drenched in the blood of his family. His head was bowed and when they approached him demanding answers he answered quietly tears streaming down his face “I did what had to be done.” Then he just started laughing. No fight was gotten from him as he was locked away deep inside the jail, where he now has become forgotten. Since that event his mind has become fragmented, and he has gone quite insane. Jest views the world now as a playground for his amusement, and everyone is simply there so he can have the most amount of fun.

Other: Free him from the jail so I can rp please! And he might have been in the prison for a good amount of time, forgotten. Will leave it up to Dragon to decide if he has been able to escape aging for that time due to his first power.

((And so I wait for approval, and the rest of you slackers to make your bios.))

((Accepted. Quite the character too.))

Name: Crystaline Halor
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Skills/Abilities:
Ghostly Impression- An ability that allows the user to change into a mostly invisible form. What I mean by mostly is when a person is looking for her, she is unseen. When they close their eyes and don't panic, they see a bright blue ball of light that bounces around leaving a trail of blue behind it. In this form, Crystaline can pass through walls, people, and other objects without fearing pain. The disadvantage? If someone was aware that she was in this state of being and they touch her, she would return to her human self.
Appearance: She is a blonde with red at the tips that just touch her chin. She stands at about 5'3" and her face is a heart shape with deep blue eyes. Most of the time, she will be carrying a smirk on her face unless she is thinking. In which case she ends up furrowing her eyebrows and frowning. Her body is slender, making muscle almost non existent.
For her clothing, she wears tight fitting tops so they don't get caught on things. Crystal wears khakis most of the time, but rolls up the pant legs up to her shins. She also wears a pretty blue and green necklace that looks like the moon engulfing green sun.
Personality: Funny and energetic until she gets too caught up in her thoughts. She loves having a logical thought process even though daydreaming takes up half of her day. Strangest thing about her is she watches people closely unintentional. Their walk, their actions, and the way they talk. Of course, very few notice her observing, but it freaks her out when she notices herself doing it. If asked, she is also able to tell someone different aspects about them that they didn't tell her.
When first meeting her, she is very fun to be around and she always has a look that makes them feel like they are important to her no matter what even if she isn't fond of them. When you know her... the sarcasm and remarks start to increase.
Other: She fights with a sword and she wears a dagger on her waist. The hilt of the blades are golden with the top of the hilt making swirls around the bottom.

((Bleh... not my best work at all... but it will be fine for now... >_< Sorry guys))

((Not approved, too long....kidding...I dont have that power.))

Name: Johnny Erikson
Age: 37
Gender:Male
Skills/Abilities: Johnny has an immaculate sense of timing. He knows exactly what time it is down to the second and can recite it perfectly. When alone, he often mutters under his breath the remaining time until the monster appears. Interestingly, this ability applies to months and years as well, and as such he is the only credible source of timekeeping for the village due to the bimonthly reset of the entire village destroying all calendars. In a world cut off from outer communication and driven insane by the endless destruction of all they hold dear, he remains the one constant. The village relies innately upon his gift for telling time. Only he can know when their time runs out. Again.
Appearance: Johnny is reminiscent of a good ol' boy farmer with a strong Christian heart and stronger biceps. He keeps his sandy blond hair short, yet long enough to cover his head from the hot sun. He dresses simply, and can usually be found in a white shirt and overalls. He is frequently dirty from working his farm, even though he knows it will all be destroyed when The Ravager comes. He owns one suit in his wardrobe, and he wears it during every Herhaling. Even he doesn't know why this is anymore, and if one were to ask him, he would say only that it is tradition at this point.

He sees no point in putting on a cheerful air for other people, and therefore his face is consistently downcast. His depressing visage gradually worsens as the Day of Repetition draws nearer. His blue eyes show almost no emotion at all, it having been ripped from him due to the countless deaths he has experienced. He has an air about him that is somewhat menacing, and a harrowing thousand-yard stare. He has been known to look into the distance at seemingly random moments, as if looking for Byatha across the fields.
Personality: Johnny used to be a strong-hearted Christian who tried desperately to be a hero. When the monster first arrived, he fought valiantly against the locusts and was quickly killed. When he awoke, he was very confused and went to talk to his family about the dream he'd just had. When he heard that they had the same experience, he became intrigued. When he heard the same from the other townsfolk, he resolved to get to bottom of this happening. The locusts appeared again, and once again he fought and was killed shortly. Every time the locusts came, he fought his hardest. Every time he was beheaded, stabbed, sliced, mutilated, or otherwise killed, a little hope drained from his eyes. He is now a cynical being, and accepts his fate with a halfhearted stab of his pitchfork.

As he lives on the outskirts of town, he is the first to be killed during every Herhaling. This leads to him being resentful of the other villagers, who hide away in their basements, though this has been proven not to hinder the monster from finding them. The thought of going further into the village has not occurred to him, as he is very much a creature of habit. He is set in his traditional values, and refuses to worship Byatha as some of the other villagers do. Johnny prays the day before every Herhaling that the monster will not come, and every Herhaling his prayers are unanswered. The only emotions besides cold indifference that he shows are to his family. They are the only ones who may witness his outrage against God and the monster.
Other: He has a wife, Shannon, and one son, Charles (Charley). His parents lived with them on the farm. Their deaths set off his cynical streak.

((I like him. Keep this one Dragon.))

((It isn't your choice whether he stays or not! >: ( Denied!

Kidding... about denying Johnny from the rp. >_> I get the say in who stays and who goes! Now... should I start is the question...))

((I was talking about Fenrir. Did you just deny keeping him? Ooooo, you better have strong hug filled words!))

((Kayla, once your bio is approved you are able to join, so... get it done when you can! I am starting because SOMEONE (me too... Been planning this reply for awhile) is getting anxious : )

And Macha... Correct anything on Jest I didn't get correctly. I wanted something cool to started it off so there... Please tell me if you change stuff though! I wanna know! Thank you!))

Crystaline
"Why did you kill them, son? You had to have had a reason."

"I did what had to be done."

A blonde hair girl listened as the tape recorder in her hands played a fit of laughter from its speaker. After a few moments, the tape then cut off and the play button jumped up to sit evenly with the other buttons. She sighed and closed her eyes. "There has to be more, right? What else did they know? What more could they have done?" She pondered as she lied on a mattress in a dark blue room. She has had this stupid little tape for three days and her mind still couldn't fathom any of it. "Did it really end with laughter?"

Crystaline sat up and spun so her feet were dangling off the side of the bed. She placed her elbows on her thighs and lied her head on top of her fists. "There's nothing in the police reports either... Gah, police force... why didn't you try harder to get information out of him?" She looked to the files on nightstand, remembering the only useful thing about them being the man's name and that force was minimal to get him into a cell.

"It didn't even tell how he had killed them! Ahhh!" She flopped back to her bed, her arms spread across the bed. "The worst part is he could help us a lot more than the guys about to get out... and he could be the least likely to be alive in a cell underground, making the entire operation a complete waste of time." The girl took a pillow from the top of her bed and covered her face with it. Take the risk or don't? They could end up with someone who knows more about Herhaling than anyone... at least if he had a real reason for killing his family...

"Sweetheart, I am off to work! I will see you are 7 tonight unless I work an extra shift." Joseph called from down the stairs. 

"Thanks for the update, dad!" She said, realizing these police reports weren't going to "re-appear" at the police station till after dad got of work. Great, one more thing to put on her plate. Not only did she have to get a select few people into the jail during her dad's lunch break, but also she had to sneak a felon out of there too. 

All to bring the village to normal... whatever normal is. She reminded herself. Crystal sat up and slid off her bed, grabbed a belt that held two sheathed weapons and buckled it around her waist. She then picked up the files and stowed them away in her backpack which held a few paperclips, a bottle of water, a bag of pencils, and a house key. She took one last look at the room before she headed out on the streets of the village. The Village of the Damned.
______________________

Crystaline laid out a crumpled map on a table in a small alleyway between a store and an apartment. The table had been set up along with the flashlights, lanterns, and candles by a few of the rebellion members. The girl was a part of a group that still had a sliver of hope that they could win against this beast and its army of locust and set the village back to when Herhaling didn't exist. She normally had the most energy, and having her dad as part of the police made getting information easier though rare if she was able to sneak the keys from a sleeping guard. 

So, she wasn't the perfect daughter. Who is?

"Alright, guys. Where's Johnny? I want his input on how many days we have before Herhaling. I want us to have time after we follow through the plan to work out the kinks we might need to fix. If we don't have enough time..." Her face fell for a split second before her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes showed her determination again. "Guess we will be following through with it after Herhaling. Everyone good with that?"

"Sure... not like we aren't used to the catastrophe." Someone said from the left of the eighteen year old.

Sure, I get this happens every couple of months... but why the hell must you be so sarcastic? She thought and took in a deep breath to distinguish the urge to speak her thoughts aloud. "Right... Thanks Bert. So, has anyone seen Johnny? Would he be over on the farm still?"

"One month, nine days, sixteen hours, thirty-eight minutes, twenty-seven seconds. One month, nine days, sixteen hours, thirty-eight minutes, twenty-two seconds."

Johnny Erikson's rhythmic chant guided his hoe as he raked his way past acre upon acre. In the end, it was all for naught. The Reaper would come, legions of insects in his wake. They would devour his crops, mutilate his cattle, murder his kin, and it was all for naught. Johnny uprooted a potato and threw it across the field. It didn't matter where the potato went. It would be gone, same as the others, same as everything, in one month, nine days, sixteen hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fifty-eight seconds, just like the rest of them. Just like all those that had come before it.

Was he even Johnny Erikson anymore? Was he not a mere husk of a man? What man, indeed what animal, could be killed so many times and yet still be alive? He was living a dead man's life, and had been living it for thirty years. Three hundred and sixty Ravagings, Herhalings, Repetitions, Apocalypses, whatever one may call it, he had been killed every time. The town had rejoiced during the coming of the thirtieth year of Herhaling, thinking that at the three hundred and sixtieth occurrence that their luck would come full circle, that they would be freed from this hell on earth, that they would be free from the Village of the Damned.

They were wrong.

Byatha cared not at all for time. Byatha was eternal. Byatha would be destroying the village when Johnny's son Charley took over the farm, and Byatha would be destroying the village when Charley was long dead. The only time Byatha cared for was one month, nine days, sixteen hours, thirty-six minutes, thirty-three seconds. "One month, nine days, sixteen hours, thirty-six minutes, twenty-eight seconds."

Truth be told, Johnny was rather selfish. He had never allowed himself to watch his family die before him. Johnny was always the first sacrifice, which was seen as an honor, a character flaw, and everywhere in between. Altruism was a convenient cover story, but Johnny gave his life so that he needn't see his beloved wife and son give theirs. All the while, however, Shannon and Charley had to watch him die horribly, time and time again, trying pitifully to fight against the Monster and losing invariably. They did not always try and fight back. But they always lost.

"One month, nine days, sixteen hours, thirty-five minutes, forty-eight seconds."

Crystaline
"I believe he is still at the farm. Maybe he finally gave up whatever hope he had and is just going about his d-" Someone began before the girl slapped her hands on the table. 

"Shut up. You can leave if you can't deal with the fact that we are fighting it, Bert." She offered, getting tired of the man's constant remarks. "I didn't invite you here, remember? You came into this group because you thought we had a chance. Then we didn't get anywhere after three, count them, three, Herhaling and you gave up." Silence fell over the two and the girl did her best to hide the slyness she felt for getting him to be quiet.

Once she was in control again, Crystaline put her thumb under the strap of her backpack. "I will be back later today when we have Mr. Du'Marix." She said and began walking.

A mile down the sidewalk and she slipped a silver coin out of her pocket. She tossed it in the air and caught it as it came back down. Being able to do something with her hands made it so much easier to fight boredom... and think. "Alright... so what do we know." She began.

"We know it happens every two months... we know there are too many bugs to fight back, and we know most of the village is done with hope." Thinking about it hard, that is definitely why the resistance has very few people in it. "If we were to find a weakness to this day, could we restore hope? Yeah... that requires having one!" She clenched her fist around the little coin. "All we know is Byatha pillages the village and the locust do the dirty work!" The girl relaxed her fist and breathed out slowly. 

"Well... that could be a good weakness if we could get rid of the locust... it seems they do all the work and Byatha just walks around tripping over buildings." Crystal held her coin up to the sky, holding it over the sun with her thumb and index finger. She closed one of her eyes and saw the dark coin seem to have a halo around it. 

Suddenly, she was on the floor and hearing apologies from a man who hadn't been looking himself. Crystal smiled and took his welcoming hand before continuing on her way. She really needed to be more... observant.

Or even better. She pocketed the coin and stood against a store wall with her hands at her side. Slowly, she became transparent and her sight blurred just a bit as she became a little ball of light that only some could see. With a trail behind her, she was off faster than walking toward the farm.

When she could see the black letter she knew, she went straight for the pasture to find Johnny. Just before she was within five feet of him, she began to return to normal, her sight sharpening and her body growing into a human form. Crystal walked up to the man and tapped his shoulder as he mumbled to himself. "Johnny, you realize you missed another meeting, right? Today is when we are supposed to go to the jail! Remember? You are one with me and Tim because you have the muscle to get us out of a sticky situation."

"Come on! Let's get moving!"

((Keep posting without me, my posts are going to be random strings of thoughts and illusions Jest is going through until he is freed.))

Jest

I laid back with a sigh, stretching contentedly on the soft bed of pillows that had been prepared for me. I settled in more, giving lazy glances to the two girls on either side of me. They both held giant palm leaves and were gently fanning me. I glanced over the wispy wrappings they wore before dismissing them with a small gesture. I wanted to enjoy the sun, not be fanned.

My relaxing nap was cut short when a shadow covered me, blocking the warm sun. I opened my eyes to be met with the sight of a man, dressed in a robe and a tattoo of a moon on his bald head. “Sire, your ride awaits to bring you to the castle again.”

I gave a heavy sigh and rolled lithely to my feet, giving a great stretch before turning to look at him. “Fine fine, a change in scenery is just what I need I guess.” I grumbled and took exactly four paces before stopping short. “Heck, why ride. I can teleport!” I declared and clapped my hands.
A flash followed the clap, blinding me, but when I could see through the spots brought about from the flash, I was standing in the middle of a great throne room. My actual throne four paces behind me. I turned and moved to it, sitting down with a flourish, before giving yet another great stretch. I gave a clap of my hands calling out to the empty room. “I need people to mingle and watch here.” And as if they had been waiting in the wings, a great many people flooded the room, mingling and chatting with one another in a great ball.

I grinned, my fingers dancing and moving in the air as if I was directing an orchestra that only I could hear, and as I moved my fingers the people danced and moved and mingled to my command.


~



The few poor souls who lived on the lowest floor of the prison, either ignored, or shuddered as a delighted laugh came rolling down the corridor. They knew the source of that laugh, and it wasn’t fear or nervousness they felt at such a laugh. But jealousy. For they knew that at its source was a resident, driven mad to the point where they didn’t care about the war going on upstairs, or the prison they were in now. If they could, they would kill the man, all in an effort to silence that laugh that made them envious.

Oblivious to the envy and jealousy of his fellow inmates, Jest laughed on. Lost in his madness and illusions, he existed in a world of his own creation. Only limited by the four paces he had from wall to wall in his cell.

"Crystaline, for the last goddamn time, I am NOT a part of your little club." Johnny gave an exasperated sigh. She kept asking again and again to go to her little meetings, when he had made very clear that he was not interested. He fought the beast alone, out of principle rather than purpose. There was no purpose to be had, besides the purpose of one month, nine days, sixteen hours, eighteen seconds. "I don't go to your meetings, I don't try and come up with clever little plans, and I certainly don't break into jails in order to let psychopaths free. I like you, Crys, I really do, but you need to grow up and act like an adult."

"Is everything alright here, guys?" Johnny's wife Shannon had walked up to the conversation, unseen by either of them. Shannon, lovely Shannon...she was the one hope Johnny had left in this world. He had never suffered to let himself see her die, though he had subjected her to that fate God knew how many times. The farmer was hopelessly in love with her, so much so that he had allowed himself to bring a child, a beautiful child into this Godforsaken hellhole. He had done so for her, and only because she begged him. He couldn't say no to anything she asked when she looked at him with those eyes... God, those eyes...

"You remember Crys, don't you, Shannon?" Johnny asked. "She came down a while back to help on the farm and help with the... well." Johnny always had trouble talking about Herhaling and its implications with his family. Crystaline had come down to fight on the front lines a few years back. This used to be a common practice, at least in the beginning years of Byatha's reign. All the men would come to Johnny's farm to fight the Ravager, and they would be killed, same as they were before, same as they have been ever since. But Crystaline was new, different, full of energy and full of foolish idealism. She wanted to see what it was like, and she was not disappointed.When she started out she was killed quickly, gruesomely; one locust was enough to take her out. However, as time progressed, Johnny became increasingly impressed with her. She was able to hold her own against three locusts at a time, even kill one if she got it alone. But she died, same as the rest. She always died.

"Yes, well... Yes. How are you, Crystaline?" Shannon asked. She didn't like Johnny going out to meet the monster, never did. As far as she was concerned, Crystaline only encouraged her husband to go commit suicide every two months, to fight instead of hide. Hiding was sensible. Hiding was correct. Hiding was what all the villagers did, and those who did not could be counted on two hands. Johnny was about to give in to her demands until the girl came along. She rekindled his fire, and he hadn't been reasonable ever since. It was all her damn fault.

Crystaline
The girl was boiling inside. Grow-up? Little club? Why did he always pick the worst words!? "Look I just wanna help the vil-" by that time, Shannon had appeared and Crystal gave her a warm smile. 

"Hey, Shannon. Sorry to bother you so much... Just wanted to talk to Johnny about something really important. I'm doing rather well though! I have a good feeling about this month." She said with a fire burning in her eyes. "Anyway... how are you?" 

This was going to be the month. Crystal knew it was! Her plans were bordering on simple and complex along with doable and completely off her rocker. Jest, a man with unknown power... Unlike his jail mates, he didn't have a power listed or a symbol distinguishing "Human has no powers" on his file. This could mean he has something that will trick, confuse, maim, or destroy that monster if he doesn't destroy us first... 

The only problem with this guy? Details. Details, details, details. It was hard enough digging through all the case files in the station without getting in trouble. This Jest guy almost seemed to be dancing around and laughing in striped clothing and a hat with bells trying to toy with her. Hell, not even the villagers or the police knew anything about the guy! He might not even be down there! But what other options do we have? None. 

What have they tried? Better yet, what had Crystaline tried? All of it! Fighting, hiding, disappearing with her ability, running away, scaring it, confusing it, and even entertaining it once... An embarrassing memory that she would never tell... nor does anyone really know the full story. Most could only remember a blue light, Crystal holding a mop, and a scream... 

"So... um, Johnny? Please you come and help us? At least come here what we thought about! I mean... if you don't want to do it, fine, but you are obligated as the first to get killed to at least hear the plan!" Crystal had to admit... she was giving him some serious bullshit... but she needed him for this one! All she could do was fly around in a ghostly form and freak the prisoner out. She couldn't open a freaking cell! Especially if the police force didn't even know about which keys went to the lowest floor!

"Please, Johnny?" She asked, giving him a pair of big eyes and a hopeful smile.

Before Johnny could open his mouth, his wife's eyes lit up with the righteous fire of a protective married woman. "Excuse me?" Shannon asked, trying and failing to keep herself composed. "What the heck is that supposed to mean? 'Obligated as the first to die?!" The woman took a deep breath and glared darkly at the girl who had the audacity to come to her farm and demand her husband to follow her for whatever hare-brained scheme she had cooked up in her witch's pot. "My husband is not obligated to do anything! He fights every cycle so that he can try and save even one of you cowardly hillbillies, and he fights hard! I see him fight! If you would come down and watch, you'd see that he has done what he is obligated to do and more! Go tell that to your little friends you... You slut!" Shannon burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably into her husband's chest.

The bewildered farmer held his wife in his arms, confused, anguished, depressed, and slightly proud at the display his wife had made for him. He tucked her in closer, then looked up. "You'd better get going, Crysty." Johnny had no idea whether he would have actually gone with Crystaline to the prison. To be honest, he really had been considering taking her up on the offer; she had certainly made it seem reasonable enough. However, he had no choice in the matter now. He couldn't possibly go when his wife was so insistent on shutting this girl out.

"Hey mom, dad? What's happening? I heard shouting so I came over here and...oh." Charley, disturbed by the volume of his mother, had run over to see what the commotion was all about. The poor boy, bless his heart, had been in love with Crystaline from the first time he had laid eyes on her. He was not particularly unattractive himself; all the work his father had put him to on the farm made him and his muscles quite popular among the young ladies of the town. Not a few women had tried to approach him at the farmer's market to try and get to know the sandy-haired boy better, but he had eyes only for the mysterious girl who had come to live with his family so suddenly and disappeared just as quickly. "H...hi, Crys...what are you guys talking about?" Charley asked nervously.

"You were just about ready to leave, weren't you, Crystaline?" Shannon informed him, glaring at the girl in question. It wasn't enough for her to demean her husband's sacrifice, but she had to steal her son's heart as well? The heart Shannon intended to keep for herself until she could find a girl that was right for Charley? No, she would not allow that.

"Actually..." Johnny began, "I just had a great idea. Why don't you take Charley, Crys? I'm sure he would be able to provide as much muscle as I could. And seeing as I have so much work to do here on the farm..."

"Really?!" Charley's face looked as if he had just been told that Byatha wasn't going to come next time. "I mean, is that alright with you, Crys? I promise I won't slow you down! I promise!"

Name: Avery Marin
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Skills/Abilities: Imagine being able to grow crops at the call of your voice.  Seal wounds with the sound of a flute.  Create a raging blood lust in the hearts of those around you by the beating of drums.  These are examples of what Avery can do with her magic.  Avery can use music in almost any form to cause a vast number of effects.

Instruments are her tools to help her cast her magic.  Her own body could be used as well, clapping of the hands, whistling, but she will never sing.  She has only ever used her voice to use magic twice in her life.  The first time she was trying to warm the room.  And she set everything around her ablaze.  The second time, she was trying to make a flower bloom, and a fully grown tree burst into creation in the middle of the road right where the flower had once been.  So she has become a self inflicted mute, too afraid to misspeak and cause harm to people around her.

She does have magical bells. Each named, and doing a multitude of things. But using them wrong can have disastrous results to the wielder. Her mother used them, and used them to end her own life to save the life of her two daughters.

Appearance:  Avery has a round face, almost heart shaped.  With pale blond hair that she keeps cut short, in a pixie fashion.  The bangs are long enough to get into her violet eyes.  These eyes are usually looking up at people, all because of her small and short stature.  
Personality: Quiet and sweet, she enjoys reading and being outside, but hates being contained by her father who is afraid of losing his only daughter now.
Other: Has lost her birth mother and her sister, one to suicide. The other one, her mother used magical bells passed from her mother to protect the house from being destroyed by the enemy. She lost her life in the process but saved the new born Avery.

Crystaline
The girl crossed her arms over her chest. Charley? Why... why him? He hadn't been in this for awhile... Could he really be of help? "Um... Fine." She said and started walking off toward the police station. "Stay close behind and I will give you the details soon." She said to the boy. 

"I guess I will see you around, Johnny! I hope you have a good day!" And I hope your wife soon realizes she can't escape this. She added to herself. That woman... it was obvious she despised Cryst because she still had hope this could be stop and Shannon didn't want her husband dead. Well, the woman should know by now he dies every two months anyway! It's inevitable! The woman needed to face the facts and let the man fight against it in a different way than taking a sword to its leg. That didn't seem to be working either.

Crystaline could bet money on Shannon's hatred growing now that her son was with Cryst too. Poor guy... then again, just like Johnny, his death could never be helped either. At least he could kill a few bugs before being killed every two months, right? She should be proud that they fought against it! 

Halfway to the station, Crystaline looked back to Charley and sighed. "Alright. Basically we are breaking into a jail to get a long forgotten psychopath. Still up for helping or do you want me to go and convince your dad to come instead? Once you decide to go in, I won't let you leave until we finish. If we get caught, we are in a cell. Probably not underground level cells, but we won't be leaving anytime soon and we won't be able to fight Byatha in a cell. Make sense? What do you think?"

Avery:

I tapped a tune out on my fingers, kneeling on the side of the road in front of a small cluster flowers. I chewed on my lip as I ran a finger over the dry petals. Dry and dead, the product of neglect, poor care, or perhaps some kind of parasite or disease. It made me sad to think that these plants were so forgotten.

I set a hand on my chest, fingers running over the bells contained within leather pouches. I tugged on the edge of bandolier to adjust it a little giving a small sigh. It always felt so heavy, but my mom wore them every day. I could do no less, she had been the one to train me and teach me about them and what they can do. It worked well with my control over magic, but I knew it was my magic and not the bells that I would be able to help these flowers.

I wished I had my half-harp with me, it was my best tool to help plants grow and heal and flourish. But I knew that any tool I used to make music would work. And so from a pouch at my waist I pulled out a small ocarina and brought it to my lips and just started to play. I poured the magic inside of me through my breath and then through the notes being played.

A psychopath? In this town? Charley's eyes drifted toward the ground, but landed on Crys' bosom. Curse these teenage urges! "I'm up for whatever you need me to do, Crys! I'm your man!" After all, if he was supposed to break this psychopath out, the guy should be grateful enough not to murder the farm boy where he stood. Then again, the key word there was 'should'.

He had no real way of knowing whether the psychopath would murder him or not. Then again, he didn't know if he or she was murderous at all. But then, why would heshe be in jail if he didn't kill someone? Charley knew there were many unknowns, but even if he asked the woman in front of him, it was likely she didn't know all the answers to his questions either. Crystaline was never one to analyze the situation carefully. She always wanted to rush in and destroy the problem, which had served her well during Herhaling, considering there wasn't any real risk when it came to dealing with Byatha. But this, this was real. This was dangerous. If they died here, they would be dead for good. Charley almost opened his mouth to back out of this deal and to hell with Crys.

But, then again.

Boobs.