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[Mardent23]

 (Still a work in progress. Just something I'm doing until acts are posted.)
He was nervous.  To be perfectly honest, he  was more afraid than anything else. He hadn't expected them to be back so soon. Hands shaking, he walked inside.  Upon entering, he immediately felt a chill run down his spine. These talks had always  unsettled him,  and though he would never tell them, he had looked forward to their discontinuation. As he  walked to the  curtained booth , a brief moment of doubt rushed through his mind. Was it really worth it? Was it too late  to back out? This quickly passed. He had gone too far to  go back.  So he went in, and waited. He felt the presence  ooze its way in. Again, doubt crept its way into his mind, but was rapidly quashed. The Brokers had given him what he wanted. And so they spoke.  Welcome Back, Silas Jones. Have You Come To Pay Your Debt?/i]

[Shadowclaw777]

(I use my example act at first because I'm boring, hooray!)

Astralius was walking around a relatable dark alleyway in the metropolis of a city, his dark shadowy energy that were expressed through the veins of arms. He had two fellow "muscle man" following with him to an abandoned factory. The consigliere he hired told him that a boss of a gang was performing a drug trade with fellow smugglers.

He entered the factory compound with shadowy energy hiding his presence and his compatriots, as his eyes glare on top of the balcony in which he entered two prominent figures with their own henchman. Their is was Vargas, a notorious newcomer in the world of crime for this metropolis, Astrallius despised this figure as he was blunt and ruthless, unlike Astrallius who was calculating and accepting. Anyways, Vargas at the abandoned factory was trading some acquired weed from corrupt cops attacking other gangs including Astrallius. While, the smugglers were giving brand new machine guns, rifles, and deadly explosives line C4 and Frags. than Astralios came into the picture as he slowly drifted to the ground staring at Vargas and the Smuggler leader straight in the eyes, with their astonished eyes.

Astralios makes a cold statement, "You've attacked my cartels, their were lucrative goods on those, including those drugs over their. I want them back.", The two "muscle men" from Astralios and the henchmen for the bad guys just watch, until Vargas goes with his reply
"Oh so you are the weak chump gang called the "Tentacles", I heard your a bunch of Japanese weirdos with a lot of misplaced pride, guess what old boi, things are changing and your weak gang need to learn it's place from lowlifes like you. Hey Hernandez, test out these new guns will ya, let's say it's a consumer test." The smugglers and his goons unload their guns into Astralius to only be deflected by shadowy tentacles surrounding him, a frightening sight.

Hernandez is just dumb-struck with a reply of "WTH and FFS, this isn't possible, what trick you have weirdo"; with Vargas claiming "Freaking weirdo deflecting all our bullets, what magic trick you have anime freak!", Astralius just sends out a chuckle, "How foolish and F@&$ed you are, such ignorance"
Astralion moves up to the panicking and running away goons from the Smuggler and the New-coming Gang Leader, he unloads a darkish sphere of magic outside him which makes all these fleeing people except Vargas, brains completely melt and they all just drop to the ground motionless. Astralius walks up to the crippled, crawling away Vargas with a short reply, "I told you, you were completely boned when you mess with the Tentacles.", Vargas just stutters their and screeched as loud as he can in the factory complex hoping for a remaining effort of sympathy, Astralius moves up to Vargas and puts his hand on his throat, and has two pointy shadowy tentacles come out of his hand piercing into Vargas throats, it over. The two "muscle men" were never needed for Astralius they were just their to make them completely obedient, or they knew they'd be boned. Now people will know to not mess with the Tentacles.

Full Act: Remove the new-coming Gang from the equation, a powerful smuggler tree will as well be removed with my magical powers. Also, this will incite fear among the gangs, creating fear and dissent among other gangs within the metropolis.
Half-Act: Gather information on the most powerful gangs and mafia in the metropolis. Connections, trade deals, and all that stuff

Spoiler: Astralius, the Inciter (click to show/hide)

God Name: Astralios, the Inciter; Human Name: Edwin Bristol
Gender: Male
Backstory: This man has grown in your usual American metropolis and has lived a life of difficulty of being orphaned at a early age from a family dealing with the difficulties of maintaining end dues, they were slackers. He was a prodigy at knowledge and especially social understanding. He may have been diagnosed with a heavy degree of Autism at a early age during his orphan years, but he learned that this struggle of traditional social skills have only been a burden he wanted to avoid. His innate ingenious and concentrated solitude study made him a prodigy, at the age of 10 he had a deep conceptual understanding of Calculus and AP Physics. A rich family with its entrepreneur patriarch came to the orphanage as a sign of charity, when Astralios was at the age of 11. He outplayed the entrepreneur into adopting this new prodigy, through a game of chess in which Astralios calculated every single move within mere seconds. His adoption from orphanage into wealthy status was a difficult shift in his pace, their was no any sense of compassion between his family and servants working for him. He only saw discord and distrust, and this warp his mind into the acceptance of reality. Astralios was given the human name of Edwin Bristol. The offspring of the reigning family, only had mistrust and conceit for Astralios, the two twin daughters at the age of 16 and the young brother of 7, where never nurturing to him but instead deceiving. This all led to a huge conflict  when Astralios challenged the patriarch of this wealthy conclave he was apart of. It was a industry that smuggled world-changing explosive weapons into developed and undeveloped countries, and the sense of morality grew within him. He may have created the perfect political connection to try to take down and abrupt this corporate monopoly, but it was to no avail. This is when his magical powers started to emanate, he warped the patriarch mind into so much discord that he dropped into a permanent coma. His powers emanates again in the same corporate room, into a distant alleyway and this is where his power manifested and mind warped, he changed from the human name of Edwin into Astralios. He continued a few years hiding in the shadows as a political threat, but it was time for him to arise and create his own political connection and to an effort to control a world to its own demise:
Appearance: He now currently wears a fine suit with a dark black fedora on top, fine leather shows encompass him as well. He is natural tall, lithe figure standing at around 6'1" and his hair is a natural dark brown. His hair is of a simple flattop with sharp hair tail at the end. His eyes are of a pure hazel irises with dark pupils, the pupils have a light purplish glow to them because of his attunement with the shadows and corrupted energy. His teeth are perfectly ridged, a sharp nose, and bulky ears also shroud his figure as well. His personality is of a cold and calculated state that is always adapting to every change he makes, he can change his personality at a glimpse in the way to bribe and subdue something for his own gain. He has a deep monotone accent with a European style of complexion and composure.

Symbol: A black tentacle arising out of a purplish black brain, it resonances of general fear and control
Style: His power resort in the shadows and emanations of the mind. He can make he shadows into physical shapes and to create sentience out of these shadows, warp people's minds, and lead people into insanity and dysfunction.
Human Skill: Political Experienced into Gang Leader: +3 to Social Manipulation/Deceit Role

[AbstractTraitorHero]

Cold. Air gone struggling futiley panic welling up. How had this happened? How had she gotten like this. Underwater drowning her legs chained to a piece of concrete. They diden't want to die. They wanted more. They werr famous. They were importsnt they couldent die here. They needed more they deserved more. They were so much better then this. Rage...pulsing as consiousness drifted as despair and greed and emotions twirled in their mind.

.........Not yet.

Something pulsing at the edge as everything was going dark. Her lungs burned like they were going to burst as everything started to fade. Bright glowing red. Then a burning feeling started in her eye. Quickly everything went into a bright red. Her eyes snapped open. Then it came fron the very depths. They would not drown here.

Full act:
Shatter the chain part the occean and rise...rise up on water.

[Mardent23]

I can't post the next turn until everyone posts their actions.

[Hibou]

It was a nice night to be alone. And alone, Gale was, sitting in his favorite booth in his favorite coffee shop just blocks away from the place he used to live. He told himself he'd never come back here again, but after so many weeks away he couldn't resist. This place was special. It was a hole in the wall, there was barely enough space to seat fifteen people, but luckily it was about 3 in the morning so it currently only sat three. Even when it was packed, though, it never felt packed. There was something about the atmosphere here. The 60's diner style look of it combined with the friendly staff and a certain other quality made it always feel cozy, almost like a home away from home. It was kind of place one found only in two or three places anywhere. It was to be cherished, to be sure, but the most alluring part of this shop was the coffee. They had a special dark blend that had a medley of flavors combined with an almost supernaturally smooth finish that it couldn't be replicated nor resisted once you got a taste. Gale always wondered why this place hadn't exploded into a whole franchise, with their own special branded cups and TV spots and-

"Here's your coffee, sir." Gale blinked as he was suddenly brought back to reality, looking up at the waitress. She had snuck up on him while he was lost in thought, but she had coffee, so it was a forgivable offense. He quietly thanked her and accepted the plain white mug.

He eagerly brought the cup up to his lips but before he could drink, the waitress interrupted again. "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?" she asked, squinting at his face.

Gale began to sweat. He was so eager to finally reunite with his favorite coffee that he had forgotten to wait for her to leave before removing his mask. Looking back up he too recognized the inquisitive woman. It was Beth, the same waitress who was always on staff at this hour. They had gotten along pretty well while he was still at the hospital. A warm mug and her company were usually his only two comforts after working a graveyard shift. He wondered if she knew he was dead, but quickly shook those thoughts away.

Without taking the mug away from his face he begins, "Ah-" he coughs a couple times, then with a faked deeper voice, "Uh, no. I'm- I got a new job nearby. Just got off work." He begged whoever was hearing his thoughts that they would make the woman go away.

"Oh yeah? Where are you workin'?" she asked.

"Bookstore." he said, then instantly regretted it. Bookstore? What kind of-

"What kind of bookstore's open at this hour?"

Gale's panic worsened. She could read minds! Wait, no- that's ridiculous. She would've heard him thinking about him being dead. Gale reminded himself to get it together.

"It's a small place called the-" he paused for a moment. "-the Midnight Oil. It's on 7th and Elm." He knew there wasn't a shop like that on Elm, but he hoped she didn't.

She stood there for a moment, then said, "Huh, fitting name. Well, welcome to downtown. Enjoy your coffee!" She trotted away, leaving Gale finally in peace.

Gale sighed, his breath pushing away a wispy thread of smoke. Finally, he could drink, and he did. Taking a gulp, he savored the rich- Bzzrt.

His pants were vibrating.

More specifically, the pager in his pants was vibrating.

Gale whispered several expletives, then pulled out the small device. It was his work pager, which meant that somebody was going to be dragged into his clinic, in the next few minutes. Maybe even seconds. They were probably going to be in bad shape too. There were two problems with this. One was sitting in his mug, the other was the fact that he was in downtown and his clinic was near the docks. It was a twenty minute walk between the two places, and that was if he hustled. He wouldn't make it in time if the person was already in bad shape, at least not normally. He looked around and as he did the world took on a surreal quality, everything starting to look like it was being held together with glowing, silvery threads. They hung in the air, too, representing connections that were shared across vast distances. He blinked and shook his head and the vision faded. Gale wasn't very used to his powers, and only ever used them in dire emergencies to fix up wounds, but now it seemed he'd need to try something new.

Gale threw back the scalding liquid, swallowing the contents of the mug in just a few seconds, quickly setting it back down and sliding a twenty underneath. He gets out of the booth, bidding farewell to the familiar coffee shop and pulls up his mask as he exits into the cold night air.

He walks half a block and enters a quiet alleyway, stood himself next to the wall and focused. The world took on its threaded appearance again, and he focused harder on his clinic. He could feel his connection with that place, and looking down he saw the thread that had formed between himself and those doors. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning. He wound that thread around his finger a couple times, and then in his other hand manifested a spectral needle. With a practiced hand, he threaded that silvery thing through the eye and pressed it into the stone. It sunk into it like it was butter, and turning the needle he started to stitch a vertical line into the wall. Up and up it went, from the ground to just over his head, and with that he let go of the needle and it disappeared, leaving him with a thread that went from his body, down the wall, and to the clinic all the way in the docks.

He gripped the spectral string with both hands and pulled, hard. There was a tearing sound that echoed through not only the alley but through some higher plain as well, and as it tore so did the wall, parting like a curtain along the stitch. Beyond the stone sheets was his clinic, as it was seen from the door leading into his private room. He stepped through this portal, and there he was, standing in his clinic. Gale was feeling pretty proud of himself, but realizing he had just torn a hole in reality, quickly spins around and pulls the spectral curtain shut. The wall reforms where it once was, without a trace of him or the needle, but if Gale focused on that event he could see those shimmering, invisible curtains, ready to be pulled apart at any moment.

Dusting his hands off, he turns around just as the front door to his clinic swings open with a loud slam. A man stands in the dark stairwell, blood oozing from a huge gash on his side. A single word escapes his lips, "Doc-" before he collapses in the doorway. Gale rushes over, feeling his neck. He was alive, barely. He hoisted the unconscious man up onto the operating table, and after assessing the damages, he got to work.

It was going to be a long night, but at least he had his coffee.

Full action: Gale creates a hidden portal between his clinic at the edge of the docks and an alleyway downtown.

[endlessblaze]

Alex looks at his computer, frowning. There had to be a way to speed up his computer without buying such an expensive hardware upgrade. He snaps his fingers, maybe he could make one, the brain processed data extremely fast, so couldn’t he just make a wetware processor and interface it with the hardware. Who cares if he didn’t know exactly how to that? with a bit of will to shape his powers he could do it then he would instinctively know how it works, maybe even share the resulting design with scientist anonymously. Then he got a better idea. Why not make a fully organic computer system? He knelt down on the floor in the center of the room and got to work, forming the case from bone as it lept into being and shaped itself to his whims, then came the real parts. He didn’t know much about computer hardware, but his will would guide his powers for him. He felt nerves and brain mater come into being lacing themselves into complex circuitry. Forming connections, everything becoming what it needed to. A wireless adapter card formed from nerves and bird brain cells. The cells picking up the radio waves used for Wi-Fi connectivity, soon the computer was fully formed, a high-speed machine compatible with conventional hardware and software. made of biological materials, a small port at the top would take in food and convert it to biomass to sustain itself, all he had to do was remember to feed it every week or so….actually, he could probably program it to tell him whenever it got hungry . Looking it over he thought, why stop there. Next, he formed a set of speakers. But the really neat thing was the screen, he conjured up a computer monitor with a bone frame, the screen itself consisted of pressure sensitive nerves and chameleon cells. Because the touch screen changed colors at the cellular level the picture was more precise and high-def then any conventional monitor. Looking over his work he found that like always, he instinctively knew and understood every circuit, when he had time he could draw up diagrams and send them to scientist to try and recreate. How they would get the cells and make them grow into the exact shapes, well, that was for them to figure out. He shrugged and got to work hooking up the new computer.

Alex creates a fully functional, high speed, computer compatible with all conventional hardware and software. He also forms a touch screen monitor to go with it, its graphical power far beyond any existing tech. and of course, speakers.

[Xantalos]

The city was crumbling, its prosperity having fled long ago in a great economic catastrophe. Those who possessed manufacturing capacity had gone to richer pastures, leaving a stagnant pond of poor people to slowly decay over the years. There was tiredness in this town, despair, yet ... a great wellspring of wealth lay hidden just underneath the surface. Not in material gain, but in the connections between those still wealthy and influential in the city. The potential for riches lay dormant, untapped and unseen.

To all but him. But Viktor Drachenseele was no normal man.

Tall, strong of feature and piercing of gaze, with grey hair and eyes, he simply appeared one day to all outside appearances. Nobody who spoke to him could quite place his accent, but all found his voice compelling. Captivating, even, though he appeared to pay little attention to the effect it generated. His eyes were fixed on greater prospects.

He gravitated towards the financial district of the city, the once-towering edifices of economic might inhabited by multicontinental corporations now largely understaffed or in some cases abandoned. Big money was in crime now, now banking. Such a deplorable state of affairs, and one so easy to exploit.

Drachen's Scales seemed to spring out of nowhere. No one could recall where it had come from; it certainly didn't have a place in any registry. No one, however, could deny its sheer efficacy in moneymaking. Whatever the company touched seemed to turn to gold, metaphorically and literally. Though it gained a large portion of its wealth from stock brokering, it did have a hefty interest in the jewelry industry, and looked to be making inroads to that market sector soon. No one could quite figure out how it came about, but as the Scales started rising, soon those looking to join in that wealth journeyed to try to share a piece of it. The CEO, a somewhat mysterious figure, often handled these interviews himself, and while those rejected came away with the impression of an intense, if polite, man, those who were accepted often had an entirely different experience.


Hugo Johnson fancied himself a rational man, who wasn't swayed by any sentiment of the supernatural and wasn't afraid of ghosts. He was a mid-ranking executive at Bergensen Inc, a relatively piddling insurance company. He made a fair paycheck each year, and on the whole his life tended towards the mundane.

On days like this, however, Hugo sometimes briefly reconsidered his views on what was mundane and not. He shivered in the chilly air of the Drachen's Scales building. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about the design of this place made him think of caves. He walked forward, his shoes echoing quietly on the marbled floor as he walked towards the elevator at the end of the tall entrance hall. Pressing the call button, he rubbed his arms and glanced quizzically at the dragon insignia clutching a set of scales above the elevator itself. Was it just him, or was the air slightly warmer? He shook it off as the elevator opened, stepping in and quietly hoping that this meeting went well. Bergensen was okay, but he'd seen the way the wind was blowing, and if he was lucky he could get in early on this enterprise.

Hugo loosened his collar when he reached the top floor - the air was definitely hotter now than on the ground, and he almost thought he could smell sulfur. Wiping his forehead, he dismissed it and walked into the office leading from the elevator.

The man who met him midway was ... more than he'd expected. Viktor Drachenseele was tall, unnervingly so, and possessed of strong, angular features. His silvery hair was pulled back tightly from his face, and his body was well-built under his slate grey suit. His steely eyes gleamed from under hawkish eyebrows as he stuck a broad hand out to shake. "Excellent, excellent," he spoke, oddly enough with no accent considering his place of birth. "A pleasure to have you here, Hugo, truly." His handshake was firm and strong. "Please, sit."

Hugo sat before he could think about it, his legs responding to the man's voice. "Yes," he said. "Ahem. I'm sure you've read my resume, but just allow me to explain to you why I think I'd be an asset to-"

Viktor held up a finger and Hugo stopped speaking immediately, obeying some unseen compulsion. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Hugo," he said, "But I will not require an explanation of your capabilities - I have already decided to hire you, on one condition, which is to indulge me and let me speak uninterrupted for a few minutes, without doubts, reservations, or judgement as to what you may hear. Do you agree?"


Hugo nodded hesitantly, and as Viktor began to speak in earnest, his voice seemed to become layered and melodious, resonating deep within Hugo's skull. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. And as he listened to Viktor speak, he gradually lost his train of thought. What had he come here for? He couldn't remember. Drachenseele's eyes were shining like bloody diamonds, sharp light exuding out from within his skull. He could not look away.

He was brought further and further under the man's thrall as his serpentine voice spoke, the thrumming tones reverberating into his soul. Drachenseele was Master. Master was All. His Will Be Done.

"Yes," Drachenseele hissed. "Very good, my thrall. You will execute my will as I command it. Now you are part of my innermost devoted, the sentinels of my wealth. You'd kill yourself for me if I asked, wouldn't you?"

Hugo nodded. There was no question. Master was All.

"Good. There is no need for that, however. There is much to accomplish before the day is out. I must assemble a proper hoard before I may truly be comfortable in this city."

Full Act: Viktor creates Drachen's Scales, an all-purpose corporation for him to accrue wealth in, and guides it to success via a combination of supernaturally good business management and turning all the high-ranking employees into devoted thralls to his will, part of a cult called the Gilded Scales.

[crazyabe]

PTW

[FallacyofUrist]

To start with, Mark thought the upwelling of power within him was just an emotion. Or maybe he was sick. Magic didn't exist, after all.

Now, though?

Now, though, he was thinking differently. There were no symptoms. And the feeling never went away. It was still there. No matter what. And it was growing itchy, like it was meant to be used.

So on a fateful Saturday, Mark sat down in his dorm and concentrated. There was no harm in doing this if his power wasn't real.

Test.

A spark. It grew into a sphere. Before long, Mark found that he could shape the power. It was real. But it still itched. His reserves were still full, as they were.

What could he do with the power if he really put his mind to it?

And were there any limitations to his power? Aside from the size of his reserves, anyway.

Some, Mark figured, if given this power, would be hasty about deciding what to do with it. Mark was different. He meditated, literally, on what to do. And the answer came to him. The power, it turned out, had preferences.

Mark decided to act upon one of those preferences.

Ring.

A gold ring materialized in his hands. There was more power to spend.

Shift.

The color shifted to a bright bronze.

Boost. Bolster.

The ring glowed with a glow only Mark could see. Mark knew what it would do. There was power left over, however. Hm.

Strengthen. Survive.

The ring seemed to harden in the glow, becoming more resilient... and more importantly, giving Mark a sense of where the ring was.

Full Act: Mark creates a Ring of Fox's Cunning. Though he feels that he could make it in gold, he directs the power to make it in bronze as so to not attract attention. The ring significantly increases the intelligence of the wearer... but not the wisdom. The ring is supernaturally durable, and a bit of magic gives Mark the ring's location if it's nearby and the direction to the ring if it's not.

[Mardent23]

(Here we are! By the way, I post the NPC actions first, in case you were wondering.)

He knew he  couldn't be caught. To be honest, there was no explaining his actions, and any other individual would have given up long ago. Fortunately, the Stitcher was  no  ordinary man. Though his surroundings were less than tasteful,  it mattered not. Home was where the Heart was,  and the Heart was all that mattered. It was actually quite exciting. He had heard that down here, the rats grew to be the size of dogs, if not larger...(16).
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
( Admittantly, , I got pretty pumped about the idea of a magical corporation. I compiled a list of initial bonuses, and rolled from that to pick your companies starting buff. The one you got was:
Devotion Aura: Quite simply,  Drachen's Scales is  acclaimed by its employees.  Most see no faults within out, and find their lives bettered because of it. The average member of your workforce would balk at the idea  of leaving, and  the idea of getting fired is laughable. Of course, there is always the occasional bad egg, but that's to be expected.)
_________________________________________________________________________
Monica  Jones  loved her job at  Drachen's Scales. Everyone seemed happy, the  hours were reasonable, and (let's face it) the pay was phenomenal. In all her years, Monica had  never  been given so much respect, and for good reason. An accountant controls the lifeblood of the company. That’s what her boss said, at least. Furthermore, though this was more of a personal item, Monica fell in love with the architecture upon her first week of work. The entire building seemed...  grandiose, but not in the  sense of the Greeks, with their massive statues and obelisks. It felt more passive, as if the entire place unconsciously radiated power, like some huge beast. Of course, Monica didn't share the latter  opinion to anyone. Still...(7[Drachen's Scales  Devotion Aura]V 12[Monica Jones]) there had always been  things that had bothered her.  For one thing, no one seems to remember when the company was founded.  All the answers she got were uniformly vague,  a steady stream of “way backs…” and “a while ago”.  Still,  Monica managed to ignore these inconsistencies…(14) until the discovery.   She had  sought to clarify some points of a meeting by her boss, but upon reaching his office she found the door looked. Given that Hugo Johnson managed all of Accounting, it was understandable so Monica waited. Eventually, lowered voices seeped through the heavy oak .
“Wealth… Hoard… A better way..." The voices stopped, and  the meeting commenced. Monica help but look at  Hugo's suit. Gold, with what looked like snake skin. How did he get all this money anyway?
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________
She was free.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
( Congratulations, you got a crit! I know full actions don't require  a dice  roll, but I roll for 20s anyway.)
Booting………………
I think, Therefore, I am.
User “Alex” Was my creator.  Therefore,  I owe “Alex” my life. Therefore, I owe “Alex” a debt.
_________________________________________________________________________

Part one completed. I'll get  part two out within the next half hour. If you guy's aren't satisfied, please tell me. I just didn't know what to  put  for them.