[i]"Bloodlust – the disease that makes us the monsters we are known to be; it is what wipes away the last of our humanity."[/i] -Daniele Lanzarotta[quote][i]Hunger.... He had never known such hunger.... Blood.... He had never had such a lust for blood.... He had never had such a need for flesh.... The memories that were not his flooded through him. Blood and gore; war and death. The screams of pain and rage, flashes of blood and anguished, deformed faces.... And fighting. Constant fighting, constant death... the reason for it was lost in the simple need for blood. Blood....[/i][/quote][i]"Blood...."[/i] Ike's voice was soft, murmured to himself. He slowly roamed the streets of Dojoville, his stance slouched, his walking almost drunken. There was something... off, about the thirteen year old boy. His shaggy, blond hair was as unkept as usual, his pale skin as dirty as usual. His clothing, a simple, white t-shirt along with black shorts, was relatively clean, while his bare feet were the opposite; dirty, soot-covered, and scratched up. But what was different about Ike were his ice-blue eyes. While normally, they were passive, curious, and innocent... his eyes were now filled with bloodlust and anguish. Filled with the war-torn memories of someone else. Then, another thing became apparent; on his right forearm, a mark, rune, or brand–whatever one might call it. Its pattern was intricate, strange, and almost sinister–but what truly was strange about it was the fact that it glowed an unnatural, crimson red. The night sky was obscured by clouds, and the usual lights of Dojoville ignited the town in artificial light. Due to the complete darkness of the sky, the time was difficult to tell; late, to say the very least. Cars zoomed through the streets, headlights shining light upon the many shady alleyways of Dojoville, and the sirens of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances blared through the night. It was a perfect time for crime. One such criminalistic scenario was in one of the many alleyways of a more dormant street; much less active than the others. And damn, if it wasn't strange. In the very back of the alleyway was an infant, cold, dirty, and naked–and, of course, wailing at the top of its lungs. And approaching the baby was somebody who could have been its mother. The mother was crazed in appearance; wild, brunette hair, blood-covered skin, and bloodshot eyes. In her right hand, she held a serrated knife, its blade stained with blood; the mother's own blood. And slowly, the mother approached the infant, raising the knife.... The infant's cries were soon cut off as the blade crushed through its soft skin and skull, lodging in its still-developing brain and allowing blood to burst from the infant's head, blood mixed with brain fluid and fragments of the infant's now shattered skull. The mother's breathing was heavy, shallow. She slowly stood up, slowly looking around... to see Ike, staring at her with his own crazed, blue eyes. In the darkness of the alleyway, the boy's crimson mark could be considered truly terrifying. [i]"Oh, ma'am... what an atrocious act you've just committed. An act the law would certainly not appreciate, no?"[/i] Ike lifted his right arm. His hand seemed to close on something, something like the grip of a sword. Then, he pulled; and coming from seemingly nowhere was a blade of bone and leather. The sword's bone blade was about a foot and a half in length, its guard and pommel made of the same stuff, while the grip was covered in leather. The pommel was in the shape of a miniature skull... and engraved upon the skull's forehead was the same rune that was branded on Ike's forearm, albeit much smaller. This mark, too, glowed crimson red; the sign of its activation. As the boy drew his blade, the woman's eyes widened in fear. She slowly backed up deeper into the alleyway; a truly stupid move, really. But Ike blocked the alleyway's exit, and he knew that fact. The boy grinned wildly, dashing forward with unexpected speed; suddenly, the woman would find the blade of the sword lodged into her abdomen, penetrating straight through her body, with the tip coming out on the other side. The woman fell to her knees, and as she did so, a strange... dust seemed to exit her body. The dust was red in color, and was, quite simply, the woman's life force, her living energy. It floated from the woman to the rune on Ike's sword, causing his skin to seemingly glow crimson. He let out a low laugh, muscles tensing as the woman's life force flowed through him; invigorating him, boosting his strength, agility, senses, durability.... [i]"... oh, Cain, accept this energy that I do not quite need as of now... I give you energy, and in turn, I may feast...."[/i] He spoke as he stared up at the night sky. He looked back down at the woman's body, the corners of his lips rising in an almost feral grin. He slowly went to his knees, muscles tensing up as he grabbed the corpse's neck. With pure, brute strength, he tore the neck away from the corpse's torso, creating a loud sound; a sound of bones breaking and skin tearing, while blood literally exploded from the woman, splattering upon Ike's shirt and the alleyway's walls. The boy let out an almost maniacal laugh, raising the woman's head and neck up in triumph, before bring the neck to his mouth. Then, he began to eat; his canines tearing into the still-warm flesh of the recently deceased woman, bloodying his chin and satisfying his hunger. ——————————————— The dojo courtyard was bathed in noon sunlight, not a cloud in the sky. Within the courtyard were a few individuals, looking for a good fight. Roxy, a ginger woman with 20 years of age. Sheathed at her waist were two swords; a 24 inch saber, and a katana slightly longer than a meter. On her back was a claymore, precisely a meter in length. She was clearly a dexterity-based, melee fighter. A little ways to her right was Cael, also a ginger with 20 years of age; Roxy's twin brother, in fact. He wore his black mage robes, and held a long, thin staff, with an ovular gem of some sorts at its head. He was clearly a mage–an elementalist, at that. And, for you OP AF badasses, a third stood in the courtyard; Cyra. Plasma pistols, a railgun, a vibroblade, a cybernetic arm, and kinetikinesis. Whoop-dee-doo.[spoiler]Both are open. The first is whatever, the second is FITE FITE FITE—[/spoiler]