Semira Bellatrix Rafferty (DONE)

[badb]

SEMIRA BELLATRIX RAFFERTY

BACK TO BASICS ' '[/b][/size][/font]

Full Name: Semira Bellatrix Rafferty
Significance of Name:

• Semira – Arabic, meaning Nighttime Companion. The Goddess Badb could turn into a crow, a wolf, and sometimes a bear. These animals were normally associated with the night especially the wolf.
• Bellatrix - Latin, meaning Warlike. Badb was the goddess of war so having a name which meant warlike would be appropriate, no?
• Rafferty – Irish, meaning Abundance. Has no significance with the goddess except that its origin is Irish where the Celtic gods were famous in.

Nickname(s): Semira, Sem, Semmy
Age:18
Gender:Female
Orientation:Straight
Grade:Graduate
Celeb you're using:Elisha Cuthbert
Deity: Badb – Celtic
Title of your deity: Goddess of War, Death, and Rebirth

STRIKE A POSE ' '

Physical Appearance:

Semira Rafferty was never really known for her beauty – her attitude kind of distracted you from that fact. She had blonde hair; kind of cream colored with a bit of bright yellow highlights whenever the sun’s rays hit her hair. Her eyes were pale blue, which often showed her knowing more than she led on, while her lips were perfectly shaped; giving her a very attractive face. Semira’s face was oval shaped – her chin with a bit cleft. At 5’3”, Semira was never really the tallest girl on the block; she was somewhat average in that area – her other aspects more than make up for that fact though. To sum up, Semira’s a bombshell though people often overlooked that.

Semira, being raised middle class, never wore expensive things. Instead, she would go bargain hunting or look for thrift shops and the like to look for clothes. That didn’t mean she looked terrible mind you. She pulled off used clothes, or any kind of clothes for that matter, very well. Her genes were very kind to her in that aspect. Throw a towel on her and she’d still look better than most people out there.

LET'S GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER ' '

Semira Rafferty’s personality is a bit…unique.

Normally, Semira is known as being very graceful and elegant. She doesn’t do things rashly; always thinking about her actions. She also keeps her head cool never showing weakness or any other emotion – a really good poker face. She usually keeps an air of authority to her fellow populace though not from fear but awe. She is sometimes known to be very cold and calculating. Due to this, she is often seen as being a bit tomboy-ish; this and the fact that she has an alternate, more violent, nature.

There is another side to Semira though. When she gets pissed, and I mean really pissed not the hissy whiney fit that women normally get, she drastically changes her personality – making a complete one-eighty. She becomes overly emotional and erratic. She gets a sense of blood lust, giving her the tendency to be very overly violent – not the I’ll punch you ‘til you bleed kind, but the I’ll fucking rip you to pieces with my bare arms kind. What’s most dangerous about Semira’s little change is that she still hasn’t lost her calculating nature in her one-eighty. So you get a very violent, crazy, calculating bitch coming at you…think about that. Now multiply that by about say a hundred thousand, give or take, that about defines Semira in this state.

Personality Description:

Likes:

• Clothes
  
• Her Dad
  
• Burgers
  
• Street Fights
  
• Stuffed Toys
  
• Punching Bags
  
• Boys who can fight
  
• Independence
  
• Animals
  
• Sports
  
• Tea
  
• Her Ability
  
• Training Room
  
• Shopping
  

Dislikes:

• Boys who can’t fight (bunch of sissies)
  
• Girls who can’t fight (that’s why you get abused)
  
• Rats (the tails creep me out *shivers*)
  
• Weapons
  
• Idiots
  
• Boys who can’t fix things (if I can, you should too)
  
• Her Ability
  

Weaknesses:

• Temper
  
• Doesn’t know how to talk to boys without using her fists
  
• Dolls (never ever watching Chuckie ever again)
  
• Too self reliant, thus may come off as detached
  
• Stubborn
  

Fears:

• Losing her dad
  
• Death
  

Goal: Get a reign on her Abilities and travel the world.
Power/Ability:

Life-Force Manipulation – Semira can drain the life force of any living thing turning them into dust. Her ability is controlled though, making her unable to drain the whole life force of anything as large or larger than a human being. Using her ability, she can also give life force to other things and/or transfer life forces between living things; kinda like healing of sorts, but weaker.

Badb is the Celtic goddess of death and rebirth.

Animal Morphing - Semira can morph herself into a crow, a bear, and a wolf. When morphed, Semira gains the strengths of the animal she has morphed into (example: When morphed into a wolf, she has a heightened sense of smell.) Semira can also morph partially. (example: Morph's arm into a bear's)

Badb was said to have the ability to morph into animals. Specifically a crow, a bear, and a wolf.

Illusion - Semira can create any sort of illusion as many times as she wishes, though they do nothing but confuse the enemies. Semira can make them real though it drains her a lot.

Badb was said to have the power to confuse her enemies in the battlefield, turning the battle into her favor. Also, it was said that she could appear in multiple places at the same time.

Precognition - Semira can predict the future through dreams and such in the beginning. After a lot of practice though, Semira learns to control her visions, making her manifest them at will. She can only see in the near future though if she does this.

Badb was a war goddess who could predict whenever a soldier was to die. It was said that she would wash the armor of those who would meet their end soon.

WELCOME TO MY LIFE ' '

Origin: New Jersey
History:

June 26, 1987

Mathew Rafferty held his breath. This is it. He told himself. Just relax. Relax…relax! Relax, DAMN IT! He couldn’t relax. He had mixed feelings about this whole thing. He was very unsure at the moment, as he stood there in silence watching for the door at the end to open – he hoped it would open. To him, the door was the only thing that mattered at the moment; nothing else could get him to turn away from it. The music had started but he barely heard it; he wasn’t ready. He thought he wasn’t ready. Yeah, I’m running, he finally thought to himself. Then the doors burst opened. A smile burst from his face. All his fears seemed silly now; he knew he wanted to be here. He had finally relaxed.

***

The girl was nervous, standing in front of the closed doors, staring into nothingness. She was very nervous. She wanted to cry, but refused with all her might to let them out – it might ruin her make-up. God knows how long that took to put on. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. You can do this, Callie.” Her maid-of-honor and best friend, Lucille, encouraged her. Callie Arizona took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said, her voice shaky. Lucille smiled at her, “Okay, shall we?” The music began to play, it was muted, but it was there. Callie’s pulse started to turn erratic; her nerves were getting the best of her. She wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. Then the doors opened. The sound of the un-muted music deafened her now as she looked around in the expanse of the chapel. Familiar faces greeted her as they turned their heads to look at her, but she didn’t notice. What she did notice was the man at the altar in his perfect black tuxedo, his face jubilant. He smiled at her as she walked down the aisle, and she realized she had been smiling too. As she neared the aisle her nervousness drained away; his presence in itself stifled any bad thoughts away. She knew she would be happy as long as she was with him. She had been with him for only six months though, but she knew she wanted to be with him forever. She knew and he knew. He took her by the hand with a grin as they faced the priest together...

December 12, 1987 – September 28, 1989

The white walls stared back at Mathew as he waited; it seemed like he had been there for days instead of hours – the minutes just dragged by as if time were slowing down. And on this day of all days too, he thought to himself.

The smell of sterile-ness (a mixture of alcohol, detergents, plastic and various other things) was strong in the waiting room where Mathew was. He sat on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs as he stared at the white walls and the different nurses that came and went through the big double doors where Callie was taken through just hours ago. This would be the last time, Mathew thought to himself. He wasn’t sure Callie could survive another heart-wrenching episode of loss – he knew he couldn’t. Mathew might have looked tough in the outside, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to be through enough to go through the pain and anguish of loss again.

***

Four months after their wedding, Callie and Mathew had decided to get started on the whole “having a family” thing – Callie especially. A month after their decision, Callie got pregnant. They were both over the moon when they found out; Mathew was the most ecstatic though – he wasn’t over the moon, he had just shot through the whole solar system and was on his way back just to do it all over again.

Life was cruel to the couple though. Four weeks after Callie’s first trimester disaster struck. Mathew had just gotten home from work; he was a plumber and thus worked late, when he entered the kitchen. There, he found Callie on the floor, her face white as she lay on a puddle of her own blood, her jeans soaked. Mathew rushed her to the hospital, fearing for Callie’s life – hers and the baby’s. A few weeks later, April 13th 1988 to be exact, Callie and Mathew Rafferty left St. Mary’s hospital with a small box each on their hands – they had lost two children.

A few, very long, anguishing months later, the Rafferty couple decided to try again – this time with a little more care – scratch that, a lot more care. When Callie got pregnant, she had herself demoted from regular teacher to substitute teacher at Rackfield Elementary where she taught English; the long hours and the amount of stress just wasn’t good for the baby. Mathew on the other hand tried to stay close to home often – he tried to avoid leaving home altogether, which wasn’t really the best idea for a plumber. After a few arguments about idiocy, and a good whacking with a giant wooden spoon, Mathew’s plan had fallen through. Life was good for the Rafferty household – for a while at least. A month after Callie’s expected due date, she had stomach pains that sent her screaming whenever they came and went, causing Mathew to bring her to the hospital...

***

Mathew’s thoughts were interrupted as he heard the double doors swing open. The doctor walked at what seemed like an eternity to Mathew, stopping in front of him. Mathew stood up for the news. He couldn’t figure out what the doctor was going to say – he had feared the worst. The doctor took his mask off and spoke…

September 28, 1989 – September 02, 2005

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Where the hell is it?! the girl screamed in her head as she rummaged her drawers, clothes flying all over the place, looking for her beloved iPod. This wasn’t the day to be late – airplanes didn’t wait for anyone.

“Honey, come on you’ll be late!” a rough voice called out to her from downstairs.

“Yeah dad, just a minute!” the girl called back to him.

“Semira you’re going to be late! Never mind the iPod, I’ll send it later!” Semira’s dad hollered back.

“I-I’m not…It’ll just take a minute!” Semira shook her head and smiled. Her dad could always tell what was on her mind; it was very retarded in a way. A twinge of sadness came over her then – she would miss her father very much. Semira looked under the bed hoping that her beloved iPod would be there – and by some miracle, it was. She smiled. “Yes!” She said as she ran downstairs to meet her dad. “Got it,” she said as she stopped in front of him.

Her dad smiled back. “Finally. Ready Semmy?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Semira took her father by the elbow and led him, along with her luggage, into the pick up truck. As the truck slowly got out of the driveway, Semira took one last look at her home.Wish me luck, mom she said with a sad smile. The house disappeared as the truck slowly turned left towards the airport…

***

Semira Rafferty was a perfect daughter for Mathew and Callie.

As an only child, Semira always got what she wanted – what an elementary teacher and a plumber’s salary could afford anyway. She wasn’t spoiled though, Semira helped around a lot in the house; she liked it. When Semira turned five, she especially liked to help her dad “fix stuff around the house”. From hammering in a nail to fixing a leaking pipe, Semira was always there, helping her father out (this only included handing him things or just watching him, emphasis on the latter). It was, to her, way more fun than playing with stupid dolls. One of the only few girly things Semira liked to do though was play tea party with her mother – probably because Callie always did go over the top with her tea parties. Whenever they would have one, Callie would make a big thing of it. She would create actual tea with actual food, lay them all in small table on a picnic carpet out in the yard. She would then proceed to dress Semira’s stuff toys in different outfits of which she made, and placing them on the little chairs. During the whole party, Callie and Semira proceeded talking in British accents, or at least tried to, along with Semira’s toys. For Semira, this was one of her favorite things in the world and thus they held them almost every week.

When Semira was thirteen, disaster struck the Rafferty household. Semira went to school at Rackfield Highschool where her mother taught right next to it, Rackfield Elementary. Everyday they would both go to and from school together in her mother’s tiny yellow Volkswagen. It had been raining during that incident. They were late. It seemed like there wasn’t anyone crossing the intersection at the moment – the streets looked deserted. The stoplight lit at red. Callie’s car ran the intersection. It was over in an instant. A car hit the driver’s side of the car killing Callie instantly. Semira survived, suffering only minor injuries.

The years following her mother’s death, Semira grew closer to her dad – and more rebellious. They did everything together. Through her father, Semira learned how to fight, which was generally a good thing except in Semira’s case. She had a gift for fighting. She started to always fight in school causing her to be suspended and expelled multiple times. She might’ve been considered a delinquent, but her grades were great. She was a straight A student – most of the time. Because of this, it was easy for her to get into other schools. When she was fourteen though she had finally kicked the habit of picking fights – not that she stopped fighting. People just wouldn’t fight her anymore – to them fighting was Semira’s domain; none could beat her in it. Life had finally turned somewhat normal in the Rafferty house – until Semira turned fifteen.

Semira walked into the shady part of the city. The streets were deserted except for the rarely passing car. Everything in this part of town looked run-down and forgotten; the walls of the building covered in graffiti. Where the hell am I? She thought to herself. Semira reached into the front pocket of her jeans, pulling out a small piece of paper – the directions to her friend’s party. There wasn’t a 21st St. anywhere. Semira sighed, the timing was too perfect, she was lost and her phone was dead. “Stupid battery,” she said. Semira was about to go back to the bus stop when she heard several noises rounding the corner.

Three mean were exchanging some sort of joke as they passed Semira, laughing as they did. Semira closed her nose with her index finger and thumb. She grimaced. Isn’t it too early to be drinking? She thought to herself. As Semira walked away from the men, one of them started calling out to her. “Hey, miss are you lost? Do you need some help?” He said and started laughing. His friends joined in. Semira paid the man no attention, walking as if she heard nothing. “Hey bitch, I’m talking to you!” the man shouted at her, grabbing her arm. Semira turned, her fist meeting the man’s face as it crushed his nose.

The man fell back, clutching his broken nose, blood running down from it. “You fucking bitch!” the man shouted at Semira. His friends had stopped laughing as they neared Semira, their fist at the ready. “You think you can take all of us on, bitch?” One of the other men said. Semira wasn’t feeling so nice anymore – these guys just wanted a beating for some reason. “Maybe.” She said with a smile. One of the men lunged towards her his fist aiming for her ribs. Semira moved, avoiding the man fist as she flew a left straight towards the man’s face. The fist connected with the man’s face, making him fall back onto the ground. By the time he fell to the ground, the last of the three was already at Semira’s side, his hand holding a knife as he aimed for her ribs. Semira saw it but couldn’t dodge. Fuck! she thought as the knife plunged in between her ribs. Semira let out a scream, falling to the ground as she did. The other men had gotten up. “That’s what you get bitch!” One of them said as he kicked the knife, driving it deeper into Semira. She screamed more. The men had started laughing again as they kicked her everywhere. Tears had started to flow from Semira’s face as one of the men grabbed her hair, pulling her up towards him. “She’s pretty and feisty I’ll give her that,” he said laughing, “Give daddy a kiss, girl.” The man’s face drew closer to Semira, his breath strong as his lips touched hers. Amidst the fear, something had snapped within Semira. She felt an utter rage; killing the fear, eating it. The man had suddenly stopped and drew back, his face mortified as he stared at Semira. The man had started screaming as he dropped Semira’s head. His had had started turning to dust, eating away at his arm as it gained momentum. In a few short seconds, the man’s screams stopped as it spread to his face, consuming everything until only his clothes and a pile of dust were left where he stood. The other men stood, paralyzed, as they watched what had happened. “What the fuck!” One of them screamed as he ran the other following closely behind, fear apparent on both their eyes as they looked back at Semira. Semira wasn’t finished though; anger still seized her. Before the men were a few feet away from Semira, they fell to the ground. Their legs had started to turn to ash. It slowly crawled upwards – their screams were even stronger than the first. As the last of the men had completely turned to ash, Semira’s trance-like anger had stopped. She tried to get up, letting out a silent scream of pain. Parts of her body seemed broken she realized as she fell back to the ground. Tears had suddenly flowed then, she felt vulnerable on the ground alone. She was bleeding out. Someone come…Please…Someone… She thought as she slowly drifted to unconsciousness.

Semira slowly opened her eyes, a white ceiling registering in her head as she stared at it. Where am I? she slowly thought to herself, she was groggy. She jolted up, groaning as she tried, falling back into the bad; her body ached all over. She looked at herself. She was covered in bruises black and blue bruises, her arms, legs, and torso covered in bandages. The sound of the door closing made her look up. A woman and two men walked towards Semira.

“Who are you people? Where am I?” Semira asked, her eyes guarded as the people moved closer to her.

“You’re at the hospital dear, as for who we are…let’s just say we’re here to help.” The woman said with a smile. Her hair was blonde as it framed her face, resting on her shoulders. She wore a light colored shirt and denim jeans while the men that stood behind her wore black suits.

“Where’s my dad?” Semira asked skeptically; she didn’t trust this woman.

“Don’t worry, he just went out to get some coffee. You’ve been asleep for three days y’know,” she continued, “Now, about what happened before you fainted…”

The woman explained everything to Semira. She said that she was from a group, which specialized on people like Semira – special people. She explained all about what had happened to the men and how she was a reincarnation of a god. The woman also explained that they had a special school for people like her. This school was unique to other schools as it specialized on people like her. This school, she explained, helped in controlling and growing her powers so when she could live normally in the outside world. Semira wasn’t sure about everything the woman had said, but she knew what she had done and she was afraid. She was afraid of what might happen if that happened again; she didn’t know how to stop it. Her father would need a lot of convincing to get on board with this, but she knew she had to do it – for his well-being and hers. She reluctantly agreed to the woman’s proposal of her transferring to the special school – Pantheon Academy.

September 02, 2005 – January 23, 2007

It had been three years since Semira entered Pantheon Academy in her junior year. She had since graduated and had become an SRT member. Her ability had developed a lot since then, but she still wears a necklace around her neck, which serves a kind of limiter for her ability. Though she has control over her ability, it is considered too dangerous, to others and herself, for its full potential to be let loose. As her first assignment in the SRT, she was to retrieve a certain person who showed godly powers, but has since been hard to find. She had a lead though – she was to look for a donkey.

CONNECTION TO THE MYTH ' '

• Semira was suppose to have two sisters, making her the third daughter. It is said that Badb was born with two other sisters.
  
• Semira was feared for her battle prowess. Badb was the goddess of war.
  
• People feared fighting Semira. They said that fighting was her territory. Badb was feared in the battlefield, which was sometimes called The land of the Badb
  

ROLEPLAYING SAMPLE ' '

(The only reason this is here is because it compliments Semira's history, giving a bit more content to it.)


[Ken's History]


Time didn’t seem so fair to Ken somehow; it just flew by. By the time he knew it he was 18, living with his little sister in a two-bedroom apartment above a bar in New York City. He sometimes wondered what had gotten him here; why everything changed all of a sudden. To him, life was moving in one direction when it suddenly changed into, not one, but to a lot of other directions. Sometimes, alright not sometimes but often, he wanted to go back in time to see what had changed to make his life so different from long ago.

Born into a well-off albeit eccentric family, Ken was the eldest of 6 children – and being the only son. His parents ran a Pharmaceutical company in America – one of the best they were told. It was expected that Ken would someday head this company one day. Unfortunately, Ken wasn’t interested in the idea of being a suit-wearing pencil pusher. Instead, Ken would always be seen looking up at the clouds, lost in his thoughts of adventure and grandeur. He never showed interest in anything except other places. He was very obsessed with a map of the world, making circles on the places which he wanted to go – which was everywhere. The map looked like a teenagers face when his hormones exploded.

His father finally had enough. In order to get this idea of adventure out of his son’s head, he sent his son to his grandfather – whom shared the same attitude as Ken did. Ken’s grandfather was an anthropologist – he went to different places which had old skeletons depicting worlds that came and went. This was where Ken had found his calling.

At first, Ken’s grandfather was very careful with Ken – especially around dead bodies. He took Ken to beaches and other tourist spots, leaving Ken there while he went to grave sites. Unfortunately, Ken did not show any interest in these and got somewhat bored. Finally, out of desperation, his grandfather asked Ken if he wanted tag along on one of his trips – Ken reluctantly agreed. They went to the high mountains of Machu Picchu, where an excavation on the Inca ruins was ongoing. This was where Ken found his calling – Anthropology. The idea of the dead fascinated Ken; the how, what, when, and whys of these long gone people piqued his curiosity.

His grandfather was happy for Ken. Finally Ken’s boredom was satiated, albeit by the dead, but it did not matter to him – he was glad that his grandson was livelier than before. In the following years Ken would join his grandfather on his many trips to different gravesite; all while keeping up, though barely, with his studies. Ken was never book smart – everyone knew that. It was quite surprising that he passed his studies at all. It was seen then that he truly loved to be with his grandfather and their adventures into the lives of the dead together. This was when his father finally gave up on the idea of Ken heading the company – his sisters had more interest in it anyway.

The glorious times had to end one day.

It happened on a fall, before the leaves all fell into the ground to get ready for winter. It was a cold morning on that day. Ken and his grandfather were getting ready to go to another gravesite – this time in the Himalayas.

Going up to the gravesite, Ken and his grandfather were separated from their team by a sudden blizzard. For weeks rescuers searched for Ken and his grandfather, their hope for the survival of the two dimming as the days went by one at a time. By the fourth week, the team had given up – this would be their last day of searching. As night fell, the rescue teams gathered together, hopeless. Suddenly a bright light off the distance caught their attention. They rushed towards the light, running towards it. As they got closer, the light grew dimmer until they finally reached its origin. There they found only Ken, dying of hyperthermia. As the team loaded him onto the chopper, no one noticed the hoof prints on the snow…

Ken’s grandfather was never found.

Ken wiped a tear running down the side of his face and sat up from his bed in the dark. There wasn’t any use reliving the past; they were already over. He had already shed all the tears he had for that other life – for his grandfather.

After that incident, he never again pursued Anthropology. For months following that incident, he lived from relative to relative, never speaking to anyone but his little sister, Robin, whom he was closest to – and to her he only spoke a few words. It was decided then, by Robin herself, that Ken live with her in New York ‘til he got back on his feet. Robin studied in NYU, striving to become a veterinarian – they were only a year apart in terms of age. While Robin stayed at home, Ken would go down to the local bar and drink – Robin knew nothing of this.

It was easy for Ken to lie; it came naturally to him now. During his trips with his grandfather Ken had to have false documents, which he still used, in order to get into some places – being at the age of twenty one was one of the requirements. Due to him looking so young, he had to learn to charm the inquirers with strings of lies to convince them otherwise – he got really good at this. Something like lying to the bartender was a cakewalk from all the gun-wielding foreigners he had to deal with in the past – the false drinking license helped too.

Ken was not accustomed to city life, and therefore was bored of it. To stave off the boredom, Ken decided to get a job – well, jobs. He got many odd jobs in the city – from a lowly teller to a bank to an acrobat in a circus, he had more or less done it all. He never stayed on one job for long though.

The only thing that interested him was drinking – he had developed a craving for it. To him, drinking was a necessity. Wine especially was his most preferred drink – it didn’t help his personality in the least though. Ken was always a frank person; he always said what was on his mind about things. This didn’t sit well for most people. Ken would usually point out their flaws and shortcomings which they insisted on hiding; he also often was negative about everything. The drinking made this worse – he became more cynical than before. People avoided him like the plague. Only those comfortable enough in their own skin could stand close to him. This suited Ken fine. He hated having to tip toe around others – he didn’t give a damn about what they thought anyway.

Ken shook his head and slapped his face with both hands a few times – he needed to stop thinking about these things; they weren’t important. He slowly got up from his bed and decided to go down to Puzzles – the local bar below his apartment. He changed into a plain white long sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans, he didn’t even look at the mirror to check himself, and slowly went down to the bar with only one thing in his mind – to get hammered. Robin was gone for the weekend for spring break anyway.

The bar was as big as his apartment. To the left side of the entrance was the bar. His friend, Mike the bartender, was there – they both greeted each other with a short nod. Standing at 6’2, Mike was a big man, very muscular; he needed the upper body strength to throw out unwanted drunk patrons. Ken sat on his usual seat at the bar and turned around.

It seemed that tonight was a slow night. There were many chairs and booths empty; only a few seats were occupied – a booth at the far side opposite the bar, next to the bathroom, where a man and a woman exchanged whispers to each other all the while giggling at some perverted joke they shared. The man was bald, short and pudgy, while the woman was thin, her hair disheveled, and wore too much make up; probably some drunken business man looking for a good time with a prostitute. On another table, next to the window, a woman sat. She wore a leather overcoat, covering everything but her face – which suggested that she was thin, her face pixie like, and a pair of sunglasses – which were weird seeing as it was two in the morning. Holding a beer, she didn’t look at anyone – she was dead set on ignoring everyone around her, her faced turned to focus out the window into the distance.

The sound of a small thud as Mike placed the glass of Ken’s usual drink forced him to turn back around, steering him away from the strange girl.

“The usual again today, Ken?” Mike asked.

After downing his usual drink as if it was nothing but water, Ken replied “Not tonight Mike. Get me the strongest one you have – and leave the bottle…err bottles.”

“Another bad night, huh?” Mike asked as he turned around to get his strongest drink.

Ken no longer replied.

Mike was used to Ken being like this; in a way he rather liked it. He was kind of sick and tired of all the people in bars asking for his advice. They seemed to think that he was a bartender in the movies – wise advice giving people. He wasn’t. Maybe that’s why he and Ken got along – only the bare necessities of courtesy were required in their short conversations.

Mike poured the contents of the bottle into Ken’s glass and left. Ken took the glass and sniffed the contents. It smelled more of gasoline and less on a beverage. Good, Ken thought as he downed the drink in one go. It seared his throat and down his stomach. From there it proceeded to burning his entire body from his stomach, outward. It felt really good to Ken. This will work fine, he thought. He poured himself another drink and proceeded to down that too.

The last thing he remembered that night was the girl in the overcoat and a pair of rabbit like ears.
Ken woke up to a bright light penetrating through his eyelids; they burned. He slowly got up and covered his eyes with his hand – the sun wasn’t doing much good at helping him with his hangover. Closing the blinds, he realized that he was half naked. His shirt from last night was on the floor next to the bed – he was still wearing his jeans. It took a moment for him to realize where he was.

It came back slowly to him. He was in his room. It was bland, the walls colored in a neutral fleshy color – probably the color it was originally painted when it was first built. The floor was hardwood once. It was now littered with many things – from shirts and other clothes, to pieces of paper and other miscellaneous stuff. His bedroom was small; it only had room for a bed, a closet, and a desk. This suited Ken fine. He was rarely in his room anyway.

Grabbing the towel hanging on his closet, he proceeded to go to the bathroom on the left most door from his room – he reeked of alcohol. As he got out of his room, he was blinded by the rays of the sun pouring down from the windows to his right. He covered his eyes with his hand and waited for them to adjust to the light. As they adjusted he proceeded to walk slowly towards the bathroom, careful not to get his eyes hit by the light.

The living room was that of any normal living room. It had a TV, some lamps, pictures of people in some places, paintings, and of course a sofa. Everything in this living room was normal except…there were long, rabbit like, ears hanging out at the end of the couch. As Ken moved towards the front of the couch, he saw what it was laying on his sofa – a donkey.

Ken rubbed his eyes. I must still be drunk, he thought. He went straight to the bathroom and shut the door. He put his forehead on the door and sighed. Now I’m hallucinating during the day, he thought. As he turned around, he saw something on the floor. A pile of clothes on the floor – all black. Hanging on the sink was an overcoat and sunglasses – where had I seen this before, he thought. He suddenly realized that the shower was on, the noise deafening to him now – why hadn’t he noticed this before? He put his head down, staring at the floor, face burning. It couldn’t be Robin, he thought, she wasn’t due for two weeks. Did I go home with someone last night, Ken thought; his heart starting to race. Crap, what was her name? Was this even a she? Crap, did I go home with a guy? I’m gay now? Crap crap crap. His thoughts were suddenly silenced by the sound – or rather the lack of sound coming from the shower. As he looked up, he suddenly remembered. The girl staring at him with cold fury in her eyes, her nakedness covered only by the shower curtain she held up with one hand was the girl from the bar the night before – the girl in the black overcoat.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Ken stuttered as he covered his eyes with one hand, the other fumbling for the doorknob behind him. In what seemed like an eternity, Ken finally found the doorknob. Grabbing hold of it, he yanked the door open, still covering his eyes, and swiftly got out of the bathroom. He didn’t even get a chance to close the door behind him. As he got out he tripped on something big and fell, hard, onto the floor.

Ouch, he thought. What the fuck was that?

Ken slowly uncovered his eyes. He rubbed his eyes very hard this time. Staring at him was…a donkey. This time he paid more attention to it. It was no ordinary run of the mill ass – it was small, for an ass. It was also white, as white as snow even, its dark eyes staring at him with curious eyes. It was then that Ken noticed. Standing behind the donkey was the girl from the bathroom, still naked, with concern on her face. Ken hastily stood up, face burning, as he quickly turned at the opposite direction of the girl and the donkey.

“Are you okay?” a female voice giggled. It was a high voice, not at all shrilly like most girls – it was somewhat soothing.

“He’s fine” A gruff voice said. It sounded like an old man used to cursing a lot, kinda like a sailor. “He just got shaken is all – you know, because you’re naked and all.”

The girl giggled.

Ken’s face burned. That wasn’t true, he thought. Well, it is but then, how did he know that? And who was talking? The only people here are the girl and I – and the donkey…

Ken suddenly whipped his head and stared at the donkey.

It couldn’t be could it? He thought. Donkeys don’t normally talk.

“No one said I was a normal donkey, kid.” The donkey said, giving Ken a wry smile and a wink.

Ken jumped with a yelp and flew backwards, landing on the sofa. The girl giggled again, this time she was wearing a towel around her naked body.

“Who are you people – err animal – err person and animal?!” Ken said, flushed his heart pounding on his ears.

“I’m here for you.” The girl said, this time all humor gone from her face replaced by cool serenity and authority. “I was sent here by Pantheon, an academy for people like you. We’ve looking for you for months since you started using your powers in the Himalayas”

“Pantheon? Powers? Himalayas? I don’t understand what you’re saying lady.” Ken said, confused.

The girl sighed. “You’re a god.” She said without any hint of humor on her face.

“Pantheon is an academy which houses gods such as you. In Pantheon, we teach you how to control your powers – powers that defy physics and logic. ”

“You have powers. We do not know as of yet what that is, though it seems it is somehow connected to your familiar.” She said while looking at the donkey.

“Familiar?” Ken asked.”You mean like a Summoning?” Ken had read books about summoning; many cultures long ago spoke of them.

“Yes that is correct.” The girl said, her tone brightening at the fact that she was talking to someone who at least knew something. “But it’s curious,” she continued, her voice showing a hint of worry and fascination, “This familiar of yours is quite unique. Its god powers surpass that of yours – you summoning it again was the only reason we found you.”

Ken was confused with the whole situation. He was a god… And a weird one at that. Great, he thought. This chick isn’t making any sense at all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it to you in simply,” the donkey said.

“ You god. Me Summon. We go Pantheon.” It said with a I’m-a-caveman voice.

Ken had to laugh at that.

A donkey with some sense of humor and a chick who spouts nonsense – this is going to be a long day, Ken thought.

Ken had no idea.

BEHIND THE SCENE ' '

Your name:Ken
Age:19
How long have you been RPing? Doggie.
Where did you find us?Under a rock. A very pretty rock, mind you.

[haydenmoderator]

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!

Welcome to Pantheon Academy!
Congratulations! You've been accepted to the Pantheon Academy. Before starting to roleplay, please do these things below:

• Face Claim
• Character Claim
• Dorm Claim
• Player-Character
• Student Directory
• Sign up for Classes
• Change your display name

After doing all the claims and make sure your celebrities and characters aren't claimed/reserved yet by other members, feel free to wander our realm. Thank you and we hope you'll enjoy your stay here in Pantheon Academy.