A few miles outside of the city limits of Beacon the land is flat and dotted with fields. Rustic farmhouses sit miles apart at the heads of their respective fields. Among them is a one-story building, red-roofed with a jarring green door. Two rocking chairs sit on the porch, unoccupied at the moment. A long dirt road leads up to it from the main road.

As Will left the city behind, he tries to reflect on the wild day he just had. It started off the same as any other, uneventful morning with the folks and Paul coming to Spin-to-Win just to shoot the shit. Meeting Vesper was cool, though. Nobody new ever comes to Beacon City and it was nice to make a new friend. But then there was the freak show. From what Will can recall, nothing like Bulwarks attack has happened in Beacon City for years so why now? Thinking about it makes Wills blood boil so he lets the thought go for now and rests his bike on the side of the house.

"Wonder where my parents are at," Will thinks to himself. They're usually in their rocking chairs at this point in the day.

He walks up the stairs, onto the porch, and walks through their gross looking green door. "Really gotta paint over this."

As he enters the house, Will calls into the building. "Hey, I'm home!"

The familiar sound of clinking plates from the kitchen stops as a well-aged face peeks around the wall and smiles. Will's mother wipes her hands on her apron and walks out of the kitchen. "You're home early, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I got out of that prison early on good behavior." While they never really talked about much beyond how their days went, Will loved being around his mom. Her presence was always comforting and, after the events of the day, he appreciated her calm and gentle nature. "If dad's looking for me, tell him I went to the barn!" He then goes out the door and makes his way to the red, rustic barn that sits a little ways away from the house.

It was his father that Will would talk to the most. They shared similar interests in pretty much everything; boxing, classic rock, muscle cars, etc. He was also one of the loudest and social-able people Will had ever met which made a very stark contrast to his mother. "Opposites attract, I guess."

Will gets to the barn and swings open its heavy doors. Besides some farming equipment, the only thing that was kept in the barn was currently under a tarp. Will throws it off, sending dust flying that is illuminated by the sunlight breaking through the cracks in the barn. He reveals a '64 Pontiac GTO that has definitely seen better days. If he wasn't at boxing practice or working at the record shop, Will spends his time trying bring this thing back to life. He takes off his jacket and gets to work on the engine.

Will works peacefully for some time, losing himself in the work. He has always had an affinity for things like this. Engines, clocks, the electric toys he played with as a child. He could understand them pretty quickly.
The doors to the barn creak open and the figure of a large man in worn overalls steps through. He walks over silently, observing the vehicle with a stoic face. He glances at his son and then back to the car, "you got them marks on your face again."

Being lost in his work, Will doesn't even notice his father slip in. With a start, he touches his face and can feel that he's right. Will concentrates for a few second and his face becomes entirely human again.

"Yeah, we had some excitement down by the university. Guess I haven't entirely calmed down yet." Will says it rather matter-of-fact. His father doesn't know what Will is but that didn't stop him from asking as he was growing up. All Will's father would do is shrug and give him a long look, almost like he was looking below the surface of Will's skin. They've both just come to accept this mystery for what it was: a question they'll probably never get the answer to.

Will's father regards him longingly for a bit before he turns his attention to the task at hand. "Re-attach this to the carburetor and see if we have the same issue as yesterday." Both then get lost in the mechanical work. The conversation never steers from the car as they problem solve, come to new discoveries, and old re-discoveries. After working for several hours, Will's father gets a look of cautious satisfaction.

"I know we say this every time but tonight might be the night." He then reaches into his pocket and dangles the keys Wills direction. Will reaches for them but they're quickly snatched away from him. "Remember, you don't have your license," Will's father says.

"Yeah yeah, I don't need a piece of plastic to tell me I can drive," Will says. His father can only chuckle. He might not know what Will is but he knows exactly how Will is.

Will takes the keys and then makes his way to the drivers seat of the Pontiac. He gets in and, with a little prayer on his lips to no god in particular, he puts the keys in the ignition and turns.

The car roars to life and the interior of the barn is suddenly filled with light from the newly installed headlights. With yells of victory, Will and his father rush to embrace and jump around in a fit of giddiness.

The joy of the moment was soon interrupted by the sound of Will's mother call from the kitchen. His father headed inside to see what she needed, leaving Will with his nearly repaired car. The afternoon was nearing 4 but there was still some daylight left and the weather was perfect for a drive.

Will heard his mother call out to them and, as he turns to leave with his dad, he stops for a second. "It's still early into the afternoon," he thinks to himself. He then turns to the still running car. "I might be able to..." Will checks to see if his father is gone and, after seeing him and his mother go into the house, he gets an idea.

Without giving it a second thought, Will gets behind the wheel. "Eh, I'll just heat up dinner when I get back. There's no way I'm missing this." He closes the door and presses on the gas.

Will drives out of the barn with a few hiccups from the engine. "Just gotta drive it around a little to shake the dust off and it should be almost as good as new." If his parents heard him drive off, they didn't come out in time to see him. He cleared the farm with a triumphant cheer out the window and hits the road.

Will really had no destination in mind. He was planning on driving until something caught his eye which, at the end of the drive, he notices the establishment "Reggies" and decides to stretch his legs there.

[Moving to Reggie's]
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:27, Fri 03 Mar 2023.

[From Reggie's]

Will had a lot to think about on his way home. The events with the super powered murderers were kicked out of his mind by the events at Reggie's. He figured his first time at an actual bar would be wild but he didn't think it would be that wild.

The thing that he can't get over, however, is the word "Agarthan." He mouths it again, several times in fact, but it still feels bizarre to say. Will looks into his rear view mirror and begins to loosen his hold on his face. It begins to morph almost immediately to the green, hairless face with intricate black markings that he can never fully recognize.

At all times, Will feels like there's a second person under his skin. He can recall times growing up with other kids and, when his control over his appearance would wane, their reactions would make him feel like some kind of alien. They would accept him for who he was when but when his body would morph almost on its own, his "friends" wanted nothing to do with him. For almost 20 years, Will has felt like he was keeping a monster at bay. He swore to himself that, whoever is beneath the surface of his skin, is not him.

Will had been staring in the mirror for so long that he didn't see where he was going and crashed right into a ditch on the side of the road. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiit...," Will says to himself

The car is totaled. After all that work, finally getting it running it was fucked. Smoke leaks out of the hood and curls into the evening sky. Outside the city, the roads are mostly deserted. Despite this a car pulls up behind Will and puts on its hazards. A casually dressed man gets out, looking over the wrecked car with concern.
"Hey, you alright in there?" He hops down into the ditch and looks through the window.

He leans back in his seat closing his eyes. Will is a little frustrated but, from the hissing sound coming from the engine, it seems like the car isn't completely fucked. He could do with some good news as he's probably going to have to haul this thing back to the barn with his strength but his powers don't make it any less annoying.

The sudden appearance of headlights behind him got him out of his lull. As the man approached the window, Will braced himself for anything. He actually thought it might have been a cop and he begins to frantically look for his ID. "Fuck, I left it with the bar tending demon," Will thinks to himself. That's when he sees the way the man is dressed and the tension eases.

"Yeah, I'm all good but I probably won't be when I make it home," Will says to the man. He opens the door and gets out to get a better look at the car, as well as the man.

The car would definitely need some repairs. The front bumper bent into the hood, and something dripped from the undercarriage. The man was less interesting to look at. He wore a plain t-shirt and worn jeans. His boots had seen plenty of mud in their lifetime. He was clearly a worker. He watched the car with crossed arms and a grimace, "that's a real shame."

"Well this is going to be a fun conversation with dad," Will thinks to himself. He then turns to the blue collar man and says "I mean, hey, I brought it back into this world and I can take it out...I guess." It is hard to hide his disappointment, however. What started out as a simple joy ride turned into a rather shitty night.

"I think I got it from here, my man, roadside should be here in a little bit. But thanks for at least making sure I'm alright, a lot of people wouldn't do that for a stranger," he says to the man. Will, for a reason he can't think of, has his guard up. Maybe it was the run in with Reggie that has him on edge around strangers now but, as Will is trying to be nonchalant, he sizes up the man.

The stranger nods along sympathetically with Will. He looks at the car then back at Will and shrugs, "I don't think you need to wait for a tow or anything. You and I can probably get it."

"Uh...yeah," Will says to the man. There's no harm in letting the guy help, he guesses. But Will doesn't want to show off his super strength to the stranger quite yet so, as they push on the car to get it out of the ditch, he grunts and makes up signs of effort.

The strain from the exertion is negligible to Will, his body was designed for this. What is surprising is the cool look the stranger gives him as, together, the two shove the vehicle out of the ditch. The man never takes his eyes off of Will through the labor, but he doesn't display any outward signs of struggle from the effort. He simply watches, calmly, until the sound of metal scraping stone signals the car's reemergence.

In reply to GM (msg # 16):

"This is weird," Will thinks to himself. He immediately rules out this guy being a normal human being due to how effortlessly he handles the weight. He looks over at the man and catches him staring right back, never taking his eyes of him. Will whips his head right back around and pretends he's completely absorbed in the task. "Take a picture, man, it'll last longer." This guy follow me from the bar?

Once the car is settled back on the road, Will sticks his hand out to the man. "Thanks for your help, that was a doozy. What's your name so I know who to toast to tonight."

The man gives a kind smile. The moment is still as the breeze stirs his hair and in a split second, he moves. The air parts violently in the wake of the punch, bending the grass on the side of the road. His fist is faster than the average human eye could track, but Will follows it.

William Hurst rolled 13 using 1d20

Will reels from the punch. He stumbles away from the man dazed and seeing stars. Once he gets his bearings, Will gets pissed.

"You have GOT to be FUCKING kidding me," Will yells into the night. "All I wanted was an easy day at work and for the cute girl I gave my number to earlier to text me back BUT NO. I had to throw hands with some psychopath, I got kicked out of my first bar by some demon who's got beef with me, and I just crashed my first car. All I want is to go to bed AND NOW I HAVE TO FIGHT, AGAIN? FUCK IT, LET'S FIGHT!"

Will throws a punch right back at the man.

William Hurst rolled 5 using 1d20
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:31, Tue 18 July 2023.

The stranger smiles as Will's fist hurdles for his face. Instead of dodging or blocking, he slams his head forward into the oncoming fist. The only thing keeping every bone in Will's hand from shattering is his inherent strength. Even so, the pain that shoots up his arm and vibrates through his bones is intense.

Straightening back from his headbutt, the man's face ripples, the color changing and markings branching across it. Through the quickly fading pain, Will is faced with a face reminiscent of one he has seen in the mirror many times.

"Shame you did that in such a rage, you might have been able to cause a bruise with the right mindset." He cracks his neck, an easy grin on his face, "a fine greeting regardless. You're still young." Taking a step towards Will, the man seems to grow a few inches until he is looking down at Will, "report, child."

Will is stunned. The tension in his fighting stance eases as he recognizes the intricate markings that line the strangers face. Without even thinking, Will releases his hold on his second skin and his own markings begin surfacing, a harbinger for his other abnormal features; elongated ears, greenish skin, and a hairless scalp are quick to follow.

Fully morphed, Will isn't sure how to feel. He's spent his entire life unsure of what he was and thinking that he was alone in the world. But tonight has not only revealed what Will might be, it also just revealed that he might not be alone.

All Will could think to say is a word he learned less than an hour ago.

"A...Agarthan?"

Skauld's look goes from stoic to condescending annoyance. His previously mundane clothing shimmers and shifts into a crisp, well fitted black uniform.
"We are alone, child. The farce is dropped. We are free to speak without restraint. Now, update me."