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JAN 1, 2019 - SORRY WE WERE CLOSED FOR 2 MONTHS - SOME BAD CODE AND THEN HECTIC HOLIDAY LIFE HAPPENED. WE ARE THRILLED TO FLICK THE LIGHTS BACK ON AND COLLABORATE AGAIN! LOOK FOR SOME ADDITIONAL CHANGES/UPDATES COMING TO THE SITE SOON!! ~ZEPH

Maya Rowen

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29 Showing Real Promise

About Maya Rowen

  • Rank
    Feet Wet

CHARACTER PROFILE

  • GENDER
    Female
  • PLAY-BY
    Ruby Rose
  • AGE
    27
  • SEXUAL ORIENTATION
    Bisexual
  • RACE
    Empowered Human
  • JOB
    Thief
  • 'SHIP:
    None
  • LOCATION
    New York
  • FACTION
    Factionless
  • APPEARANCE
    Despite all efforts to the contrary, people tend to remember Maya. It’s easy to mistake her as fragile or frail at first glance. At 5,1 her diminutive stature and thin frame certainly doesn’t dissuade the notion. The empty sleeves that draw attention to her missing left arm and the cane she carries don’t much either. This suits her fine. As with much of the world these days Maya isn’t necessarily what she seems. Thin she may be, but beneath her clothing her frame is framed with the toned practical muscle of a gymnast.

    Since the loss of her eyesight Maya’s lost much of the pride in her appearance she once had and doesn’t put nearly as much effort into it as she used to. Much of her style now is sheer utilitarian. Her hair is cut short, framing her face nicely and fortunately requiring very little maintenance to do so. People tend to find her eyes unsettling, likely due to the frequency with which they seem to go from empty, and hollow, to almost burning with intensity. Her pupils glow with a soft gold light that spiderwebs into the natural green of her iris’s. She tends to wear mirrored sunglasses to go with her cane and let people believe her blind.

    Her clothing tends to be form fitting and functional, typically jeans, or leggings, and t-shirts. Very rarely does she ever leave her coat, a long black number with just a slight tail, a hood and buttons running along the left side. With it she wears a red infinity scarf she’ll sometimes pull up to hide the lower half of her face. On the rare occasion she feels she needs to dress up she typically wears wears a nicely fitting blouse and slacks, with or without a blazer. Often hidden from view her left side is covered in dozens of interlocking tattoo’s, running from her left ankle to the base of her throat and hiding dozens of scars, mainly along her ribs. They’re accentuated by the utter lack of marking on her right side, nothing but pale smooth skin aside from her arm which has a full sleeve of tattoos from her shoulder to her fingertips.


  • PERSONALITY
    Most days Maya is to put it politely, a functional trainwreck. Once sunny and upbeat, fate has all but ended the naive optimistic young woman Maya was before the event. The losses she’s suffered since the world went mad haunt her, her family, her freedom, her arm,her lover. Each one a little more soul crushing than the last. As a result Maya is slow to trust, and avoids growing attached to things because of the only slightly paranoid expectation that she’ll lose them again. The warm caring individual she used to be is now hidden behind a cold and heartless facade. Despite attempts to convince herself (and others) however, it’s exactly that. A facade.

    Her time in prison taught her to bury her feelings and gave her one hell of a poker face to go with it, but her cold, threatening attitude is usually a bluff to keep herself isolated and keep trouble away from her. While repressing her feelings certainly manages that it’s also extremely unhealthy. She bottles them up until eventually the bottle can hold no more and it shatters, leaving everything inside to come pouring out at once. Rage usually rises to the surface, burning white hot until it eventually fizzles and leaves her hollow. despair crash in around her and smother her until she’s drowning in it and it’s all she can do to come up with a reason to try to stay afloat.

    She dislikes confrontation in the extreme as it tends to trigger anxiety inducing flashbacks of the man she murdered,and she’ll generally do whatever she can to avoid it. If pushed and unable to escape however her anxiety will build until she snaps at which point she can become extremely violent.These episodes are typically followed by regret and frustration that she can’t control the one thing in this world she should be able to. Herself. Though she hasn’t been officially diagnosed with it she has many of the symptoms of PTSD, notably night terrors, and panic attacks.


    The loss of both her arm and her eyesight , as well as the many scars she bears have ravaged her self esteem, not that she’ll admit it. Before she lost her eyesight she had many of her scars covered with tattoos in an attempt to make them something beautiful instead of a constant reminder of the things she’s endured. She has an extreme aversion to authority figures due to the fear she’ll eventually end up back in prison. The only place she ever truly relaxes and lets her walls down is in her apartment, her sanctuary. She’s extremely secretive about where she lives and rarely if ever allows guests. She’s also very distrustful of others, especially strangers. The single person she actively trusts is her friend Chloe who she’s extremely protective of.




  • PERSONAL BELONGINGS
    Headphones: Maya’s constant companion,

    Sig Saur P229- Chambered for standard 9MM and completely factory. Most often worn on a hip holster in her right side.

    Knife-More often than not Maya tends to keep a knife strapped next to her gun for easy reach. A leftover habit from her time in prison, she likes to keep something pointy nearby for emergencies.

    MP3 Player-

    Playing cards- Maya developed a fondness for cards in prison and usually carries a deck with braille markings.

    Apartment- She rents at a building on 48th street. It’s a studio apartment but it suits her fine.
  • ABILITIES
    All of Maya’s powers come from three main abilities tied to her senses. True sight, for vision, Auramomatic for taste and smell, and Will Forger for touch.

    True Sight: In the wake of the second resonance, Maya’s third eye opened, and thanks to the trauma that followed it refused to shut. While mage sight is a rather common ability, Maya’s skill with it has been honed due to her constant use. All living things bloom brightly in her sight, those with lesser aura’s outlining them in varying shades of neon, but mages and other beings of power burn before her like stars.The Nevus burns brightest of all, a terrestrial sun that almost pains her to look at. Spells appear to her bright and vivid as splashes neon paint in the dark. Enchantments as flickering threads of power that weave through an items very being. Illusions and veils nothing more than a hazy fuzz around what truly lies beneath. This comes with a heavy price. When her third eye refused to close her mind struggled struggled reconciling the constant input from both her third eye and her regular sight. As her true sight began to dominate her vision her eyes suffered from optical atrophy. Her eyesight worsened until it faded all together and only her true sight remained. While her ability to perceive things in the magical spectrum is powerful it’s not absolute. Mages and other beings capable of masking their aura’s can dim the glow she identifies them with, or with sufficient skill conceal it entirely. This makes them effectively invisible to her unless they’re within a few feet of her, and even then they appear dark and cold as a corpse would.

    Without her actual eye’s she’s incapable of seeing light, which also makes her unable to discern things by color. The world is a dark shell of its former self. Layers upon layers of darkness forming a shadowy replica of her surroundings, indistinct and incomplete. Lacking as it may be this generally serves her well enough to navigate her immediate surrounding but for little else. She has great trouble discerning objects edges, seeing most things as part of a continuous whole. A solid obsidian sculpture with no breaks. Only within a couple of feet of her does the landscape appear to have any depth or definition. Her surroundings beyond quickly begin blending into a featureless darkness. The sky an endless murky sea. She is capable of briefly improving her ability to perceive her surroundings by concentrating her aura before sending it out in a directional pulse similar to sonar. Anything hit by the pulse becomes coated in a thin layer of aura for a few minutes that causes it to snap back into focus, crisp and clear to her eyes.. Others individuals may be capable of copying this technique or capable of temporarily blinding her in the way bright light would create an afterimage would normal sight by sending out stronger pulses. Should her mana be depleted from any cause her true sight fails and she becomes truly blind.

    Auramomatic: Aura’s are much like the people who project them. No two are ever the same. For Maya this is most evident in her ability to scent them. Or rather the ability that allows her brain to process trace amounts of aura using her senses of smell and taste as a medium. The type of smell an aura gives off typically depends on the primary form of magic they use, but also their emotional state. For example someone who wields dark magic, or harbors extreme build ups of malevolent emotions may smell or rot or decay. She’s also capable of scenting when magic has been used recently. While her sense of smell excels in reading the surface of someone’s aura, taste is more delicate and can be used to delve more into someone’s emotional state. Using this ability to determine the emotional states of others is largely guesswork and practice and by no means a science, and though she’s capable of scenting any living being’s aura those with stronger magical affinities have a stronger scent and are generally easier to read. Those with more control over their magic are capable of muting their aura and shrinking the range at which she can scent it, but close quarters (skin to skin proximity) allows her to scent someone regardless.The more alien the being she’s attempting to read, the more difficult the difference in emotional range makes it. For this reason she tends to avoid delving into more non human aura’s.

    -Aura Eater- Scenting aura’s is a powerful tell on someone’s mood, but it’s also open to Maya’s interpretation and can be fooled by those with skill. Consuming their aura is a different matter. Consuming another beings aura causes her own to resonate with theirs. This has a number of effects but the most significant one is the ability for Maya to feel the emotions of those whose aura she consumes. When this happens her “victim’s” emotions overlap her own either resonating and intensifying anything she may already be feeling or causing a dissonance that may deaden her own emotions if they conflict with the others. This overlap is affected by the other individuals emotional depth, intensity, the amount of aura consumed and physical distance from Maya. The deeper, and stronger the emotion is, as well as the closer an affected individual is and the larger the amount of aura consumed it’s more likely to produce stronger emotional overlap. While the affected individual is unable to sense Maya’s emotions, her own emotional range can cancel out the deadening of her own emotions to some degree. This ability can leave Maya very open to suggestion of those she’s linked to, and experiencing another's emotions creates a level of intimacy that Maya is usually profoundly uncomfortable with, especially with people she doesn’t trust or actively dislikes. For these reasons she rarely uses this ability. In addition to the emotional overlap the resonance effect creates a pull between the aura she’s consumed and it’s owner. This allows her to sense their location when close by and sense their general direction over considerably longer distances, though the accuracy deteriorates the longer the distance. The effects last from a couple of hours up to a day depending on how much of an individual's aura she consumes.

    Will Forger: The ability to solidify and manipulate her own aura through her sense of touch, as well as to perceive the aura’s of other through skin to skin contact . Typically she uses this ability to sculpt her own aura, either into inanimate tools, or as modifications and extensions of her own body. While she’s incapable of shaping another’s aura she is capable of feeling it when she comes into contact. An ordinary person's aura feels like a gentle tingle like low level electric current. More powerful beings like mages and many non humans feel more like a light shock on initial contact. While the sensation can be intense it’s not necessarily painful or unpleasant.

    -Duplicant- The ability to shape her aura into tools, weapons or other objects. The quality and durability of these projections depends on the amount of mana Maya invests and the amount of time and concentration she has to create them. As these items don’t remain connected to her aura they take considerably more time and focus for her to create as she can’t simply create them by feel. This also limits the complexity of what she’s capable of making. Complicated or delicate structures like circuits are far beyond her ability to craft. She’s further limited in that her creations are purely physical. For example she can’t produce gunpowder or electricity to create the reactions necessary for firearms or railweaponry, but she can make bows or crossbows that rely purely on reactionary forces. Knowledge is also a limiting factor, she simply can’t make something if she doesn’t know how it functions. Since she lacks physical sensation with these creations she has to use her hands as a medium to shape her aura, and can’t create anything if they’re bound or damaged. At the center of these creations is a core that contains all of the energy she’s invested in it and allows the outer shell to regenerate after taking physical and magical damage. After this core is depleted or if destroyed with another magical force the creation shatters and quickly disintegrates. Any contact with sufficient amounts of energy damages the creation and forces it to draw on the energy at its core, whether it’s kinetic energy from striking or being struck, or being exposed to excessive heat or magical energies. Typically these creations stand up to terrestrial forces better than magical ones. Despite the time and effort required to create these constructs, so long as the core remains intact they’re easily repaired by coming into contact with Maya’s aura again.

    -Phantom Limb-Maya is able to manipulate the Aura she forges as an extension of her body. The most basic form of this is the arm she creates to replace the one she’s lost. Alternatively she can use it to alter her limbs (generate claws, muscle mass, fins, etc.) or to generate entirely new appendages such such as a tail, or a set of wings. The more complex the projection, the longer it takes to materialize, claws and simple creations being almost instantaneous and more complicated structures like wings taking between thirty seconds to a minute.These projections are linked to her sense of touch, and by extension her sense of pain as well. If destroyed or severed they will continue to regenerate so long as her mana isn’t depleted, but the rate at which they do varies on the complexity of what was lost. Though she’s capable of creating several of these projections at once doing so is difficult to control and maintain and steadily drains her mana..

    -Wildcall- An extremely dangerous ability that rapidly consumes Maya’s energy. She cocoon’s her body into a single projection that encases her in a bestial shell. In this state Maya loses much of her upper cognitive ability as her upper brain function is sacrificed to maintain the whatever form she takes. The size and nature of her beast forms vary, but they all offer her increased strength, speed, and resistance to physical and magical attacks. These projections, as with her phantom limbs are linked to her sense of touch, and by extension her sense of pain as well. She’s capable of changing the specifics whatever form she takes using this ability (Limb size, shape, extra appendages, muscle mass, etc) it becomes fixed to an extent. She still has the ability to alter these forms it’s much more time consuming to alter them than it is to initially generate them. This is partially due to her decreased mental capabilities and partially because she has to graft the changes into an already cohesive construct. They also mostly follow the rules of physics. Limbs, or sections of her projections can be damaged, removed or destroyed in their entirety, and while they can be regenerated as long as she has aura remaining the process isn’t instantaneous. This ability is also an all or nothing. Once she enters this state she’s unable to release it until her mana is completely depleted, afterwhich she’s physically and mentally drained. It’s not unusual for her to collapse after releasing it and regardless of whether or not she does she remains in an altered state of mind and doesn’t fully recover her mental faculties for a few hours at best, though in more severe instances it can take a little over a full day. She also loses her ability to see for several hours as her mana reserves are utterly depleted.Her ability to trigger this intentionally is spotty at best and usually the result of stressful situations such as physical confrontation.

  • SKILLS
    Thievery: Since she was sent to jail for it, her skill in taking things that don’t belong to her has grown exponentially. Between the knowledge she gained while incarcerated and her magical abilities she’s become quite a capable thief.

    Freerunning/Acrobatics: The single semester she tried out for cheerleading in highschool trying to be popular will always make her shudder, she did get something out of it. A love of gymnastics. She had a knack for it too, and competed on her highschool team her junior and senior years.

    Pain Tolerance: The years weren’t kind after the first resonance, and because of the injuries she’s experienced since the first event as well as her addiction to painkillers she can take a hell of a beating.

    Brawling:Despite not being trained in any style of martial arts, Maya has quite a bit of experience fighting. Or getting beat on anyway. She learned early that there’s no such thing as a clean fight, only a smart one.

    Firearms: Limited is probably the best way to describe Maya’s experience with firearms. She’s has all the knowledge of how to properly shoot, but a lack of actual experience and desire to cause harm to others. She mainly carries her gun as a deterrent.

    Card Shark- Maya didn’t learn to play cards until her time in prison, but it turns out playing cards with criminals can make you pretty good at it. She excels at both poker and blackjack, more so if she’s cheating. Incidentally she’s pretty good at telling when when the games been fixed.
  • HISTORY
    Once upon a time fairy’s, elves and dragons were the stuff of fairy tales. Unbelievable. That all changed when the sky split open and fiction turned to fact. Now it’s that world that we used to live in that seems like the fairy tale. We all took it for granted, and in the blink of an eye we had it ripped away from us. Back then I was just a dumb kid who couldn’t wait to get out of the house and go see the world. God I was so young. Average life. Average dysfunctional family, my parents and an older brother. Average childhood in a town in Arizona. Boring at times, but not bad. Not that I thought about it that way back then. I was on my way home from college when the nevus opened. On my way home to visit my family for break.


    I never got to see them again. Maybe they died that day, maybe not. I don’t know. Some days I think I did. Everything went mad so fast. It was incredible how the panic swept through the city. Everything was fair game in that chaos. That was when I started chipping at pieces of my soul to stay alive. It started with the stealing. Everyone was. The city was falling apart, food was hard enough to get, clothes were a luxury. At least till winter hit. Starving was better than freezing. So I got good at taking things that didn’t belong to me. It’s amazing really. It’s so easy to think “I’d never” Or “Not me” until it happens and you realize “Yes. Yes I would.” Because when it came down to it. it was me or them and I chose me. I’d never realized how many things i’d taken for granted till then. A full stomach. A warm bed... I got desperate.

    I hadn’t expected the guy who’d caught me breaking into his place to catch me, but damn he was fast. He caught me about halfway up the ladder and grabbed my leg. I freaked out and kicked him in the face as hard as I could. That was it. He went down, hit the street hard. I heard his skull crack from the fire escape.It was so loud, and everything after that was just...so quiet. I kept hearing it, the wet smack and sharp crack of his bone. Then he just...stopped moving. They found me about twenty minutes later bawling my eyes out in the alley by his body. Someone had called the cops and that’s probably the only thing that saved my life, but it was a small mercy.

    The legal system was still a mess, and the fact people could defy them with impunity kept showing up wasn’t helping. The cops cracked down hard to show they meant business. I was in a cell for months before I got a trial. If you can call it that. Ten years. That was my sentence. B&E. Theft, Manslaughter. They all stuck. I was still kind of numb. Out of everything that happened, the sky splitting open, the riots, [i] goddamn monsters[/i], that, that was what seemed the most surreal. Me in prison. That was the last time I thought that way. That this couldn’t be happening, not to me. That was when i realized yes, it could happen, and it was. To me.

    The first few months were hell, the cops weren’t under a lot of pressure to show results and they kept order with an iron fist. Slowly though some kind of normalcy returned, or as much as there can be any more. I didn’t care. I belonged there, and honestly for awhile it was safer than being out on the streets. We didn’t have much, but we weren’t starving. Or freezing. Or being beaten to death. Not usually anyway. It was still prison. Some folk in their were just like me. Wong place, very wrong time. A lot weren’t. The hard cases. The cold blooded killers. I stayed away from them. Kept my head down. Stayed away from everybody at first, but honestly prison is hard enough without being alone.That was where I met Alex. My Cellmate. We hit it off quick. She was like me. Wrong place. Wrong time. She had a wicked sense of humor. Didn’t take long for us to be friends. Didn’t take long for us to be more. Didn’t see that coming. Guess you don’t realize how much you need someone in your life until you’ve got no one. I hadn’t been happy since before the resonance, but I was content.

    Then the second resonance hit. The madness came back. I don’t remember much. I didn’t make it out without a scratch this time. It was an explosion. A gift someone got from the Nevus. I remember the noise, the heat. The pressure that washed over me so intensely I thought my head was going to burst. The panic of being trapped as I struggled to free me arm from the rubble. My entire cell block collapsed. I got caught under the ceiling. The prison couldn’t handle it. So many bodies, so many people caught in the blast...like me. I woke up in the city three days later.

    Oh god that was a rough day. If I hadn’t been so full of meds i probably would have lost my shit as soon as I woke up . Instead I drifted in and out for awhile before I was really coherent enough to register anything. The first thing that hit me was the pain. I don’t think I could ever really explain that kind of pain to someone who hasn’t felt it. It was raw, like my nerves had been dug out of my skin and set on fire with alcohol. I won’t lie. I curled up into a ball and bawled my eyes out for a good ten minutes before I managed to get a grip and clamp down on my nerves enough to notice anything else. That’s when i realized I wasn’t alone. I freaked out. That was when I noticed. I’d thought my arm had been numb, unresponsive. The truth was much worse than that. It was gone. I lost it. I mean well and truly. It was all too much. I was so confused. Scared. The walls seemed to press in on me and the woman who was there was watching me like a skittish deer. I had to get out of there.

    I was so hopped up on adrenaline that I wasn’t even feeling the pain anymore. It was still there, but on the back burner in my mind. Secondary. There was only room for one thought in my head. Get out. I threw myself out of bed, scaring the crap out of my observer. I made it about three steps before I tripped and fell. Then everything was gone but pain. I think I blacked out. I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything else until I felt fingers wrapping around my wrist. There was no thought, no consideration. I pulled my right arm free and pushed with everything I had. The woman went sprawling back her expression stunned as she smacked into the wall. Still unsteady I grabbed a chair to balance myself, my hands clenching around it so hard I thought the metal would warp.Hands. I stared dumbly for a few seconds as my brain tried to process that fact with the maelstrom of other impulses it was sorting through. Slowly my panic started to die down and I managed to sit down, my breathing shallow as I stared at my arm in awe. It was a perfect replica aside from the fact it was metallic gold. After only a few seconds it began to flicker before crumbling away into nothing. I just kept staring, numb. I was so fried I barely registered the prick my arm. A few seconds later I was out again.

    The second time I woke up wasn’t too different from the first. There was pain, but it was less crushing. My mind was clear enough I managed to take a few breaths and keep myself from totally freaking out again. After a couple minutes I decided I should probably figure out what was going on and sat up. The woman was still there, seated in the chair i’d used to keep myself up right. She was impassive as she watched me, her expression unreadable. I just stared at her for a few seconds and she apparently decided I wasn’t going to attack her. Her name was Chloe, and she was the one who’d managed to clean me up and keep me from bleeding to death. According to her Alex had dug me out of the rubble and brought me to the city, to her. She was a surgeon… and Alex’s half sister. After she’d dropped me there Alex had just disappeared. Hadn’t said where she was going, or if she had Chloe wasn’t. Those first few days she kept me pretty drugged up. She’d managed to fix up my shoulder so there wasn’t any bone sticking out.and I wasn’t bleeding to death but the pain was still crushing. My ribs were pretty messed up too. Two fractured and one broken.

    I think she was also concerned about what had happened the first time I woke up. The panic attack and the power i’d shown during it. We hadn’t talked about it, which was fine with me. I was grateful for the meds. Grateful they all but knocked me out most of the time. Grateful I didn’t have to think. If i’d had my way I probably would’ve stayed like that forever. As usual I didn’t get my way. Coming off them was hard. My body was still pretty battered, My ribs ached with every move, no matter how small, and even sitting still they were a constant dull throb. Phantom pain of my arm haunted me. It would crash in without warning, so intense I couldn’t do anything try not to fall or bite my tongue when I grit my teeth, Then It would be gone. It was bad, but each day the aches were a little better. A little more bearable. The same couldn’t be said for my thoughts. I didn’t want to die. I was just...empty. Hollow. I couldn’t deal with it. Not this time.

    I’d lost plenty of things in the years since the world had gone to shit. My family. My morals. My freedom. I’d coped. I’d survived. I’d lived. This time was different. I’d survived sure, but I don’t think you could really call my existence at that point living. I had trouble finding the drive to get out of bed. So I didn’t. I barely ate anything. I was wasting away. Probably would’ve kept going till it killed me. My grief was crushing my thoughts smothering even the most basic ambition. I don’t know which was the more devastating loss. Alex or my arm. We’d never labeled it, Both of us had avoided that. The world we lived in was too uncertain to make promises. I knew that...but I thought i’d mattered to her. On some level I guess I did or she wouldn’t have bothered saving me. I understood that, but leaving me? That I didn’t get it all. I felt worthless. Useless. My arm didn’t help that. I’d never been particularly vain, but i’d been confident with my looks. Now I found it hard to look in the mirror. Part of me said that was why Alex had left. That we’d been desperate in prison. That once we’d gotten out I was worthless to her. Damaged goods.

    It was more physically debilitating than i’d expected too. I could walk but just that made me feel off balance. Running was even worse. Every little thing it seemed was a reminder of just how pathetic I was. It probably would have killed me. That hopelessness. That emptiness. Chloe finally got sick of my moping. Dragged me out of bed one day by my feet. No warning, she just dropped my ass on the floor. Then she just stood there and stared at me with her arms folded over her chest. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. So I didn’t say anything. I just sat there on the floor looking at her shoes.At least I did until she pushed me over with her foot. “Get up.” She told me. You could practically feel the heat of her anger when she spoke. I just looked up at her blankly. “Why?” I asked her. I really couldn’t see a point. What little of a life i’d managed to eke out since the event was just as dead as the life i’d lived before it, and the future? I was a powered escaped convict, and a cripple at that. My future was even more terrifying than my past if that was possible.

    Disgust muddled the anger as she looked down at me. “God this is pathetic. No wonder Alex dropped you here.” It was a small jab. Nothing I hadn’t already been telling myself, but for some reason it bit worse hearing it from her. Worse than I could handle. “Take it back.” I told her quietly. My demand, if you could call it that seemed to amuse her. “Why? “ She echoed, the mocking bite in her tone digging right under my skin.”Tell me why I should.” She continued, as she she crouched down in front of me, her face only inches away from mine.”Come on, tell me.” She demanded before pushing me over again. I grit my teeth, the pain from my ribs mingling with the anger that was sparking in my chest. “Take it back.” I told her again as i pushed myself back up. She pushed me back over before I had even managed to sit. “Or what? What are you gonna do about it? Sit in bed and ignore me for another week?” She asked in that same condescending tone. “Go on a hunger strike? No wonder it was so easy for Alex to just bai-” I don’t remember standing up, just the blood pounding in my ears as she spoke. As she judged me. As my rage began to boil in my blood. The next thing I knew I was standing over her my hands clenched into fists and my breathing ragged.

    She held a hand to her cheek and I realized i’d slapped her.At first I was horrified but for some reason she smiled. “Much better.” Staring at her blankly I probably looked about as stupid as I felt. After a few seconds I realized she’d gotten me angry on purpose. To get me to feel something. Part of me was grateful for that. It was a small part. Embarrassed and more than a little ashamed I tried to go back to ignoring her, but it wasn’t that simple.Her little mind game had cracked the shell I was hiding in. The apathy. The emptiness. It wasn’t just gone, I was still far from what anyone would call a healthy mindset.The emptiness had been an ocean. Oppressive. All consuming. Now it was a cage, stifling, claustrophobic, but not inescapable. Anger helped. It was easy to be angry, or easier anyway. My apathy had smothered it, but it was there, waiting just beneath the surface. Boiling in my blood. It made me feel alive again.It never lasted though. My temper had a short fuse, but it was explosive and fizzled quickly. When it faded it left me burnt out.Hollow again. I hated it. So i’d get angry about something else.

    Chloe seemed happy anything could get me out of bed at first, and she was practically ecstatic when I started eating again. It didn’t take long for that to fade though. I could tell she was worried I was tipping towards the other end of the spectrum. That instead of withering quietly the fire in me would feed until there was nothing left of me to take. She was probably right. I don’t think I could have gone back to that shell. The thought I might terrified me. So burning? That didn’t seem so bad. I didn’t realize she was trying to help at first, when she started asking about me. About my life before the chaos. Thinking about it just made me so mad I wanted to fight this whole crazy ass world. I put it to use, threw myself into the rehab Chloe gave me and lost myself exploring my new powers. Chloe seemed to realize she wasn’t getting through so she started telling me things instead. Stories about when she was younger. What she’d wanted to be. How her and Alex had fallen out years ago. After a while I started asking things instead. I wanted to know.

    She had been a trauma specialist in the army in when the resonance hit. She’d seen the worst of it. Genuine soldiers, people who went to war for a living as they were ripped apart and slaughtered like incompetent children. Bullets and kevlar don’t fare so well against magic and genuine monsters. Still they fought, it was her job to take the ones who didn’t die and put all the pieces back together so it stayed that way. Eventually it started to get to her. First came nightmares. Soon she couldn’t even get a full nights sleep without being medicated. Still she held it together mostly. Saved a lot of people, including some who probably wished she hadn't. When things started getting back to some semblance of normal she tried to be too. Unfortunately the nightmares wouldn’t go away. They started affecting her performance at work.She started drinking. Ruined a lot of relationships. Hurt people she cared about. Hurt herself.I could see the parallels. I suddenly understood she’d been disgusted with the memory of herself rather than me...and why she put up with so much of my bullshit.

    It wasn’t long before I realized I was getting attached. Honestly it scared the shit out of me. For a lot of reasons. Me and Alex had been something. We’d both been afraid to admit it. To push. Whatever we had been we’d still been careful around each other. Kept secrets. We’d both been afraid to really trust each other. I trusted Chloe. More than I probably had trusted anyone in my whole life. I’d known her less than a month. That terrified me, because for the first time in a long time I wanted something. Something I wasn’t sure I could ever have. I was careful not to let it show. Being around her was enough. It made me happier than I thought I was capable of being. Happier than I remembered being, So of course life threw me another curveball. Just when I was starting to think the nevus had run out of things to take it decided to prove me wrong. This time it took my eyes.

    At first I didn’t even realize what was happening. It was slow. I’d had flickers in my vision since the first time i’d woke up but i’d assumed it was just leftover from my injuries. Then I started to see things. They were brief in the beginning. Short flashes. I thought I was going crazy at first, but then the flashes got longer and I realized it was another ability. Not that understanding it helped much. I still had no control, and knowing some of the things I saw were real was just as terrifying as the possibility I’d gone off the deep end. Sometimes maybe more. Then it was more than flashes.It didn’t take long until It would last a few minutes, and not long after that it would sometimes last for an hour or more. I could barely function when it did. It was like learning to see all over again. I had no context, no explanation for what I was seeing, or what any of it meant. Gradually I began to make sense of it, and as my episodes began to last longer and longer I noticed my eyesight was deteriorating. I think it scared Chloe when I figured that out. Scared her I would slip back into that hollow shell of a person I’d been. She didn’t tell me so, but I could tell. Could read it in her body language. In the way she kept trying to cheer me up.

    She was almost right. When my eyes finally went I almost went with them.I would have if it hadn’t been for her. In some ways it was easier than losing my arm. I’d known it was coming. Prepared myself for it the best I could, which admittedly wasn’t well. Still it wasn’t like I was stumbling around in the dark. I could still get around, most of the time. It hurt anyway. You never really think about how much you appreciate the little things till they’re gone. Watching the sun set. Reading.It took me some time to get over that. That was when I realized how dependent I’d ended up becoming on Chloe. She was always there when I needed her. Always careful not to press to hard when she knew I was in a fragile mood, or to kick my ass out of a funk when I needed it. That dependence terrified me. More than anything else since the whole world went to hell. More than losing my arm, or even my eyes, because if she was gone, if I lost her? I knew it would kill me. Not immediately maybe. Might take awhile for me to actually die, but if I lost her i’d become that fragile, empty, shell of a person again. It scared me so much I decided the only thing I could do was to push her away.

    Part of me wanted to just run. Vanish. Like I’d never been there, but I couldn’t do it. Not after Alex had done it to me. I knew how hard it hurt. How wrong it’d be. I couldn’t do that to Chloe. Not after all she’d done for me. I took it slow. Casually. Started hunting for apartments. Jobs. It didn’t go well. Hard to find honest work when you’re a magical cripple with no documents. I knew it was a balancing act. All it would take was one mistake and I could be back in jail. It was so frustrating. Didn’t take long for me to look for less honest work. In fact it took less time than i’d like to admit. Fortunately while my powers hindered me in finding honest work, they excelled at finding me the disreputable kind. I was careful. Didn’t advertise I was anything especially out of the ordinary. People needed things, I got got them. I was picky about the job’s i’d take. I think Chloe knew I was up to something, but she didn’t ask. Part of me wished she would, if only so I didn’t have to lie anymore. Eventually I started drawing attention careful as I was.
    Attention I couldn’t afford. Things could have gone bad after that, but for once I was lucky.

    The first person who’s eye I caught happened to be a broker. A criminal talent agent more or less. Called himself Mr. Graft. I knew the moment I met him he was different from the thugs and gangbangers i’d been taking jobs from. He was professional. Precise. I think he was counterintelligence before things went to shit. CIA, FBI, DHS, it didn’t really matter. What did matter was Graft knew his business, and he knew it well. Our arrangement was straightforward. He found me the jobs, discreetly, dealt with the clients, arranged transportation of merchandise, and supplied me with any gear I needed or wanted at cost. In exchange he got a commission of sixty percent of the profit on every job I did for him. It was steep but it was worth it. The anonymity, and the gear he offered were priceless. Besides that his fee convinced me he was serious. If he was looking to kill me, or sell me, or use me for any other number of terrifying purposes he’d have made the deal more appealing, more lucrative for me. It also gave him an incentive to keep our arrangement. The jobs he found me paid more than anything i’d ever managed alone, and so long as I kept succeeding he had a vested interest in keeping me around.

    For all the new benefits our arrangement offered me it brought one terrifying new risk. Graft himself. It wasn’t just the benefits of working together that made me accept his offer. It was also fear. Graft was polite, charming even, but underneath the poise and the presentation he could be just as much a monster as any of the things the nevus had spat out. He was cold, calculating, and detached. When we first formed our partnership he made it pointedly clear what would happen if did anything stupid. Then just for emphasis he threw some photos on the table between us. Photos of me. At home. On the Street….with Chloe. I nearly lost it then. My adrenaline spiked so strongly it was hard to think. Hard to breathe. Luckily a small still rational part of my brain stopped me from trying to kill him. I’m pretty sure even if i’d managed it my life would be over one way or another.

    Our first meeting left me rattled. I was on edge for almost a week straight afterward. Chloe noticed. She wanted to know what was wrong but I couldn’t tell her. As much as I might hate to hide it from her I couldn’t tell her about Graft. Not even just because I knew she’d disapprove, but because I knew the consequences of what would happen if I told her and Graft found out about it. I couldn’t let that happen. So I brushed it off. Or tried. Chloe could tell it was bothering me. She wouldn’t let it go. I didn’t handle it well. I blew up. Said things I didn’t mean. It was stupid, but I think I was so scared of her getting hurt by my business with Graft I didn’t think about how else I might hurt her. After that fight I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I couldn’t. If I did i’d be just like Alex. I didn’t want to hurt Chloe anymore than I already had. So I apologized...then I told her. Not everything, but enough. She was understandably less than thrilled. She tried to convince me to quit. That I had other options. I knew she was worried about me. I also knew she wasn’t buying her own argument. She knew the unpleasant reality was I was right. I didn’t have many options.

    I could almost taste distress running through her head as she tried to think of something i’d missed. In fact I could literally taste it. An acrid bite that made my stomach churn with nausea. I also knew what she was likely going to offer. To just stay with her. Like things had been, but I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want things to stay the way they’d been. So I didn’t give her the chance. I told her that I needed this. Needed some form of control in my life. Needed something that made me feel alive. She still wasn’t happy about it, but she knew I was right...or at least didn’t try to tell me I was wrong. I moved out a couple weeks later. Only a couple blocks away. It wasn’t much at first. Just a place for me to crash at night. I was hardly ever there between the jobs I was doing and the time I was spending with Chloe. But it was mine. Little by little I started filling it up. After awhile it started to feel like home, and I realized that was because for the first time since my life went nuts I had one. A home. And i’ll be damned before I let anyone take it away from me.

Profile Fields

  • Primary
    Maya Rowen
  • All My Characters
    Maya Rowen
  • Typist's Interests
    Writing, Reading, Poetry, Music, Philosophy, Games of all kinds ( Video games, board games, trading card games, etc.)
  • Typist's Role Play History
    I've been on too many boards for me to remember honestly.
  • Role Play Sample
    Saeta looked from side to side as she walked down the streets of Kalm. Right now it was dark out, the storefronts as well as the light of day both absent until morning and the moon bright over head. However this wasn't what Saeta saw with her bandaged eyes. All around her. The white sky above her, the green ground beneath her her and the grey of the shops on either side of the street. This late there were no people, no shades of green other than that of Gaia itself....Yes no one... The boy that had come with here.....the thing she'd summoned. She'd entered Junon with the intent on teaching him of Gaia, but when she returned with clothes for him he was gone. Just like everybody else.

    So now she walked down this street in Kalm. She wore a long leather jacket with a hood that obscured the upper half of her face, including her bandaged eyes, its zipper undone to reveal a black tank top that cut off mid riff and a pair of clinging black leather slacks. Her hands both occupied, the right with a light black wooden staff and the other a black vortex design tattoo on the back of the palm, ruby crystal fragments buried in the skin around it.
    This was not the first time she'd been here recently. She'd come here more than once looking for Angeles......But apparently Angeles didn't want to be found.

    Neither the man she's said to look for, nor he deceased master had known where to find her......No.....the old man had known.....but he wouldn't tell her. Now he was done telling anyone anything. After only making it about half way down the street Saeta noticed something. It was on this street. That man, Tony's cafe. Cafe Heven. She approached the cafe slowly, looking at the door expressionlessly for a moment before a fierce snarl ran across her features and she sent a blast of magical energy through her hand as she drew it back and punched the door. It was easily ripped from its hinges before burying itself in the wall, but her magic was not stopped so easily.

    The blast that destroyed the door continued through the wall, stopping only when it hit the stove and knocked it loose, providing plenty of gas for the sparks it caused to ignite. Only a few moments after she released the energy there was an explosion with enough force that it caused her to slide back several feet, even with her shield in place. As she watched flames began to spread across the building, white flames that ate away at the grey of the cafe as it ate away the materials it was constructed of and used them as fuel. After staring at the flames for a few moments Saeta remember that Tony himself lived there. However she simply watched the building burn, not caring whether or not the man lived or died.
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  1. Maya Rowen

    CLASH OF THE TITANS

    The club was packed. It seemed like the entire city had turned out to watch the brutal spectacle on display tonight. To get that pulse pounding adrenaline rush as the rest of the crowd cheered over the two men trying to beat each other to a pulp. Maya wasn’t one of them. That was probably obvious to anyone who cared to notice. She sat alone at the bar, patrons on either side of her alternating between loud conversations and wild cheering whenever one of the fighters seemed to gain an edge. Her cane and sunglasses were absent tonight. The dim golden glow of of her pupils was far less noticeable in the present setting then her props would have been. She was dressed rather more richly than normal in fitted black slacks, and a red silk button up that clung to her frame and exposed the dark swirls of ink that ran along the left side of her neck .A dark blazer hung from the back of her stool and black gloves hid the tattoos on her right hand and the metallic sheen of her left. Her hair that normally obscured her features had been pulled back and tied in a loose knot at the base of her skull. “If there is a God I'm pretty sure he hates me. “ Maya thought to herself sourly as she idly stirred the drink in front of her with a straw. Not that she needed any more confirmation of that. She really shouldn’t be drinking but she needed something to take the edge off. Normally she didn’t mind crowds. Hell, normally she didn’t even mind the fights like this, though they weren’t something she really followed. The people in this crowd were so emotionally charged though between, the fight, the booze, and everything else that she could taste it. Literally. It was sharp, like the bite of good tequila. It was almost as intoxicating as the drink in front of her. It made her heart race, and whole body seemed to resonate with the frenetic energy.. It was exhilarating...and terrifying. She knew how quickly that buzz could be washed away by flood of emotion that came with her flashbacks. It was only one of the reasons she didn’t really want to be there. Security for the event had bordered on the ridiculous and there was a likely enough police presence to further fray her nerves. She would much rather have stayed home honestly, or gone to Chloe’s. Unfortunately she was here for work not play. Graft was meeting with a client so he’d called her here. She had no doubt that he was enjoying the fight in one of the VIP boxes while he talked business with whoever it was. She knew the club was owned by the Bakkhos which might have said some interesting things. On the other hand it might not have. Events like these were a perfect excuse for him to meet pretty much anybody without attracting unwanted attention. She wondered if Graft knew how his choice of venue would set her on edge. Probably not, not that she doubted he’d really care he did. Her thoughts were rudely interrupted as the everyone around her suddenly erupted in a volcanic combination of cheers and curses. Judging from the barely audible sounds from TV’s mounted over the bar something had just exploded. She shook her head and took another healthy sip of her drink as the mingled tastes of disappointment, elation, and excitement ran across her tongue. The bartender clearly knew what he was doing. The bitter bite of alcohol barely registered as it burned pleasantly down her throat. Her posture relaxed slightly as the warmth slowly found its way through the rest of her and she set her glass on the bar as she looked out at the crowd. The auras of the clubs other patrons seemed to blend together in such close proximity, painting them all in a mosaic of red and orange hues that seemed to dance like firelight , dominating the other colors that dotted it. She watched, momentarily transfixed by the sight before her...
  2. Maya Rowen

    Maya Rowen

    Hi there all. =) I hung around for a bit a few years ago before RL stuff got in the way, but I was looking for a board to join and rediscovered this place. (I'm Haine in the Box) I decided to remake one of my old characters concepts who used to work as inspector for the Order and decided to put a what if and make them a criminal instead. Haven't totally decided on her backstory yet, but she was trapped in New York during the original Resonance and ended up stealing to survive. She got good at it and got a little cocky and stole from someone she shouldn't have and they beat the hell out of her and ruined her arm. About a year and half later she got telekinesis during the second resonance. Now she hides the fact she's a magus and uses her abilities to steal. Suggestions/plot ideas are welcome.

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    MODERN FANTASY COLLABORATIVE WRITING RP CATERING TO OLDER PLAYERS (25+) WITH A SLOWER, MORE RELAXED PACE. IN 2010, THE WORLD DRASTICALLY & PERMANENTLY CHANGED BY WHAT BECAME KNOWN AS THE MULTIVERSE RESONANCE EVENT. IN A SINGLE BREATH, OUR WORLD CROSSED WITH AN UNKNOWN NUMBER OF ALTERNATE UNIVERSES, BLEEDING INTO EACH OTHER. EARTH WAS SUDDENLY A REALM OF MAGIC AND MONSTERS. THE STORY IS CENTERED IN NEW YORK CITY BUT EXTENDS ACROSS THE WORLD. IT BLENDS A VARIETY OF GENRES; A MOSAIC OF OVERLAPPING REALMS INCLUDING ELVES, LYCANTHROPES, ALTERED HUMANS AND,OF COURSE, MAGIC.  

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