Character Age: 23


Origin: Moscow


Occupation: Paramedic/Firefighter


Psychological: Level-headed in times of stress, well disciplined, generally cheerful


Physical: Dirty Blonde hair, 5’9” tall, Blue Eyes


Supernatural Powers: Prophet (through dreams and brief glimpses into the near future - see bio for more information), Dreamwalker


Biography:


Early Life:


Anita Raikov was born in 2020 and has a twin brother named Adrian.  As a child she was very intelligent and showed an aptitude and love for science.  She loved watching doctor shows and at one point wanted to become a doctor, but a field trip to a fire department changed her mind.  She got to meet with the paramedics and had an immediate connection with firefighter/paramedic, Cor Halcyon, and decided she would much rather be a paramedic than a doctor. At age sixteen, she joined the Moscow Fire Department’s explorer program, focusing on medical side of things.


Training:


At eighteen, she officially joined the Moscow Fire Department.  Within her first year she was trained as a firefighter and an EMT Basic.  By her second year, she had obtained her paramedic’s license.  Despite her firefighter training, she works primarily on the ambulance as that is her preference and where her natural skills lie. On fire calls, she generally assists with medical duties such as attending to patients or doing firefighter rehab. 


Her prophetic abilities often come into play on calls.  She will occasionally see glimpses of coming events minutes into the future.  It has helped her save lives.  She cannot control these glimpses.  Her colleagues attribute this to her skill and good intuition.


Dreaming:


At fourteen, Anita began having strange dreams.  She didn’t understand them, but knew them to be different from dreams she had before. She would see strange images, or people she hadn’t met yet, that she would meet later.  


She has no clue about the World of Dreams, even though she has been in it, but has come to an understanding that her strange dreams show glimpses of things to come (see notable prophecies for more explanation). All her dream prophecies appear in the world of dreams.


Prophecy:


Her prophetic nature manifests itself in two forms - through dreams and through momentary glimpses into the future.  She has no control over either of them - they just happen.  


Notable Prophecies:


Ascendancy’s Monument (Dream): Anita had a vision of Nikolai Brandon standing over a monument, arms outstretched. Several days later, the Ascendancy announced channeling to the world and built the monument in her dreams.  This would be the dream that let her know she had prophetic dreams.


Adrian’s Spark (Dream): When her twin brother, Adrian, sparked and got the channeling sickness, she had a dream of her brother going to Kallisti and meeting a man there, she saw this man teaching her brother to control his power. The next morning she sent him a text telling him to go to Kallisti.  Adrian now works security at Kallisti. (the man in her vision is Nox)


A Patient With A Collapsed Lung (Glimpse) - Anita was working a patient in the ambulance, and things were going well.  The patient was stable, and would be ready for hand off.  She then saw a vision of the patient beginning to breathe hard and showing signs of a collapsed lung.  Acting on instinct, she told her crew they needed to intubate.  The crew didn’t have enough time to question as moments later, what she saw began to occur.  Her quick reaction saved the patients life.

Sky was feeding Nox the footage outside of the Domovoi. He hadn't been back since he returned to Moscow, not that there had been all that much time between arriving home after his three month tour to being kidnapped and this very moment. It hadn't been long at all and a metric ton of shit had gone down.

Nox watched as the rewound footage finally came across the elusive man escaping custody. How foolish the officers had been, they clearly hadn't worked with the Monster Squad at all. They would have known to heed whatever warning Dorian gave him. Either that or Dorian's reputation had truly been tarnished in the IA. Dorian was cleared of all wrong doing and he was back on the case -- which was good but Dorian was not a hunter, he was a cop and he had to follow the law.  The escape couldn't have been better planned. 

There was no way that they'd get this man on a death sentence for cohesion. It was hardly serious enough, and putting him in a prison was a no go, he'd be out or running the thing in a matter of weeks.

Nox found the direction he bolted in. "Sky follow him, see if you can can catch up to him.  I'm going to talk to Dorian."

Dorian was inside the precinct and several of his fellow officers greeted Nox. "Good to see you. Can't wait to see what you'll teach us next."

"We got a sentient on the lose, not the friendly kind like Alex. More like her father -- her brother actually."

((This thread is meant to take place the morning of "We dont want to anger morven" ))


Jay said it again before she could even ask. “I’m fine.”

He always said it first—cutting her off at the pass, like it was a script they both memorized. But Natalie never looked at him with pity. Not once. Her gaze was something else entirely. Grim determination. Like she believed if she stared hard enough, if she willed it strongly enough, she could patch the fractures together and force him back into sanity.

"I’m not insane", he told himself, looking in the bathroom mirror. "Just had a moment."

"A moment? Hell, Rasputin had a moment. What you had was Chernobyl with a side of sarin gas."

"It wasn’t a meltdown", he argued with himself. "Just... a weak spot. Brittle. Tape it up. Duct tape. Good as new." He grimaced as the razor knicked a chunk out of his jaw. 

"Yeah? All the duct tape in the world won’t glue back together what you broke, dude."

"Yeah, well—fuck you."

"Fuck you."

He tapped the razor against the edge of the sink. Too hard. The plastic handle snapped and the blade went skittering across the tile with a sound like teeth breaking.

He gripped the counter. Hung his head. Breathed deep. Tried to shut the screaming part of his brain down—the part that ran reruns of the worst nights on full volume.

This was how mornings went now. Cold. Regimented. Fractured. A battle before the sun even cleared the horizon.

In the kitchen, he fastened his uniform jacket between bites of toast and mouthfuls of coffee. He eyed the bourbon bottle on the top shelf and, for a second, actually pictured it. A splash in the mug. Liquid courage. Liquid forgetfulness. 

But no. Not today. Not yet.

“I’ll be at the Garden today,” he said when Natalie entered. She was barefoot, wrapped in a robe she never seemed to realize made her look like home.

He hadn’t left since Jared’s wedding. Just stayed. Moved in like fog. They hadn’t talked about it, hadn’t needed to. She never asked questions, and he never offered more than the daily itinerary—where he was headed, what he thought he’d do. A performance of normalcy, and she never called him out on how much it all smelled like bullshit.

Adrian had gone quiet after their last encounter. Eerily quiet. Jay told himself that meant he’d finally given up. Whatever fantasy he’d been entertaining, whatever plan had involved Jay being part of it. So far, no search parties. No demands. Not even a text.

Until they noticed he wasn’t showing up for that particular duty, he was going to do exactly what he wanted. Even if it wasn’t anything at all.

“Supposed to meet some ambassador or diplomat or somebody,” he muttered, rinsing his mug and leaving it in the sink like a breadcrumb trail back to his version of stability.

He passed her on the way out. “Talk to you later. Be good.”

And then, soft, almost automatic, he kissed her cheek.

Like he was still the man she thought he was.

"Have you read my proposal?" Sage asked over the phone on one of the rare occasions he actually called Nox to discuss whatever it was. Probably because it was faster for Nox to talk than it was for Sage to communicate.

"I did, not that I understood much." 

Sage chuckled over the line. "Sounds about right. Basically it's the legal stuff that'll help you sell the idea."

Nox nodded not that Sage could see it. "I knew that much I don't need to understand it as long as you do."

Sage laughed. "The lawyers do and that's what matters. I laid out the business plan in layman's terms. So you could understand them.  Ana and Emily both have both documents too. So everyone's on the same page."

Nox nodded again flicking his eyes to the left to change the song streaming into his ear bud. Ashton's voice was a godsend when it came to interacting with people who didn't know him. At the club none of the regulars even really noticed that he was just a little off. They didn't see it, didn't know any better. But the crew knew. They would wince when Nox said something in a wrong tone. He was still getting used to it all, but the normies didn't know anything was wrong, even when he pretened to be threatening someone with a weave of air. Bruno was always ready to swoop in should there be trouble, but Nox's reputation preceeded him in Kallisti. He hadn't been back to the Alamz. There really was no point.

The song switched to the normal happy and content to something a bit more somber and business like -- not completely an emotion that Nox had displayed before, but he knew how to be serious. But even the sarcasm was tight and bitter when he remembered to play to his strengths. Everything was just wrong. Nothing felt right. The world was empty and even now he missed Lily. He missed the warmth of her body against his chest. He missed her babbling, but this was a business meeting and while Ana and Emily probably would have dotted on Lily, that was the exact reason he didn't bring her. This was important to him. He needed help and he couldn't do it alone. Money aside, he knew nothing of running a business or even if the plan was doable. But he had to do something!

They were meeting at an upscale cafe across town. Nox would have preferred his favorite, but this was business and there were better places with more privacy than that so he'd let Sage make all the arrangements. As usual.

It was cozy and warm when Nox arrived first.  He took a table in the far corner his back to the kitchen so he could keep an eye on the front door. He ordered black coffee for himself and a fancy coffees one  with oat milk and the other with whatever they usually made it with and carmel for Ana and Emily. Sage had given him Emily's order and Nox wondered if all rich people drank the same things.  When they all arrived at his table the Caramel macchiatos smelled way too fucking sweet and Nox reached for the power to push the scents away but the power was no where to be found and the stabbing pain of loss ripped through the song that played in his ear.  

Nox took deep breathes calming himself as he bent over his black cup of coffee with his good hand pressing against his temple trying to right his world again.

Ricky had stayed for dinner and left when his clothes were done. He thanked Liv and left. Marta headed back upstairs and entered Elyse’s room when tiredness set in. She didn’t even set up her air mattress. She just fell asleep on Elyse’s bed. Sleep was short lived, however. 

The nightmares were always the same, even if she didn’t have them as frequently. They started with her mom and dad getting killed and moved to the brothel. The two things she had no desire to relive played through her mind.  Marta woke up, knowing sleep would elude her for most of the night now. She checked the time. Elyse would be back soon. 

Marta got up and moved to the desk and began to doodle. It wasn’t drawing like usual - she just made shapes and what not. She had no focus. The door opened and Elyse came in. Marta looked at her tiredly. [

”You okay?” Elyse asked. Her scent was weird. It still had a depressed air, but was tempered. 

”Nightmares,” Marta responded, her voice flat. 

”You want to talk about it?”

”Doesn’t really matter. Same ones I always have,” Marta didn’t look up as she said it, feeling guilty at the outburst. 

Elyse didn’t respond with words. She just put a comforting hand on Marta’s shoulder before getting changed. The truth was, Marta did want to talk about it because she didn’t feel scared or sad. She just felt angry. It was an odd feeling especially since the wolf was no longer latching on to it.

Marta stood as Elyse finished changing out of her work clothes. ”Elyse,” she said. Elyse looked at her, and Marta could see the care in her eyes. ”Why…why are people like that? Why do they hurt people? Why did he kill them and sell me? What did I do to deserve this?” Each question caused Marta’s volume to rise as the anger she had suppressed began to come out in droves. Her psychologist had told her to let it out. She hadn’t understood why Marta couldn’t at the time. and why the fuck can’t I do anything about it!”

It was a word that Marta had never used before. It even surprised her that she said it. Hot tears were streaming down her face, but even now she felt better, even if she felt she was now in trouble. 

Elyse didn’t pay attention to her swear. She just knelt down when wrapped Marta in a hug. ”Its okay to be angry. I’m sorry, but I don’t have answers for you. Only that there are very terrible people in this world.” Elyse let go and took Marta’s face in her hands. ”There are good people too - Ricky, Hayden, your friends, me - all here for you and to help.” 

Elyse gave her an encouraging smile. Marta didn’t return it when she asked. ”Elyse, why have you been so sad…why did you…” Marta didn’t finish. She knew what Elyse had considered doing. And maybe it wasn’t appropriate to ask, but she had to.

Tatyana looked at herself in the mirror, and even as she smiled, she felt a twinge of sadness. It had been a long time since she hadn't seen at least some layer of dirt on her face.  Her hair was braided and newly trimmed - by a professional no less, and the last time she had looked at herself, she had been more gaunt than she was now.  A couple days of regular eating had brought some life back to her. Even her clothing was near - she wore a nice pair of black slacks and a light blue button up blouse.  She hadn't dressed like this in a long time it reminded her of when her dad was still around and it felt like a lifetime ago.

The change was courtesy of Zeke, who had decided for some reason to take her to a club.  Tatyana had asked no more, and Zeke hadn't offered more, but he had told her where to go and when to go there.  At his insistence, she was given new clothing fit for the location, was instructed to get a new hair cut, and to bathe appropriately.  The clothing felt odd - felt clean.  She felt clean.  She also felt pretty. It had been a long time since she had even wondered at whether or not she was attractive, but as she gazed in the mirror she could see it. Appearance had never been a big thing for her, but for some reason she now appreciated it, even if she wouldn't flaunt it.

Tatyana left the bathroom and headed out heading to the location that Zeke had given her.  She found a line outside of the club and a bouncer was letting people in or denying entry. Inwardly she was grateful.  This wasn't Nebasa's Gate nor was it any club owned by the Vasilievs.  She waited in line until she got to the bouncer. He stopped her.

"My name is Tatyana - I'm supposed to meet Zeke here," another instruction from Zeke.

The bouncer looked at a list and then nodded, allowing her entry into the club. She entered to find lavishly decorated bar. This was where she was told to meet Zeke.  Looking around see she a descending staircase.  Patrons met with each other and talked.  Tatyana was familiar enough to know that in some cases, business was being conducted.  That business was one of hers.  A few patrons looked at her, some appearing to question her appearance here and others appearing to check her out.  It confirmed to her that she was looking attractive now.  Tatyana didn't see Zeke, so she went up to the bar and sat at a place where she could see the entrance. She would wait for Zeke to arrive.

So question for you all:

Do the forums need more sub-boards? The general moscow board gets so busy with a lot of threads. Do we need to make location-specific boards? Or rearrange in another way? 

Thoughts? Ideas?

Continued from: Sight Seeing

The word ready sat well on Anton. Not with the bravado of a soldier marching to battle, nor the naive eagerness of a boy chasing ghosts, but with the gravity of a man who had been waiting—perhaps unknowingly—for a door to be opened.

Theron inclined his head, the faintest smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Then let us pass from shadow into knowing.”

He turned, his cloak catching the light of the Chamber of Echoes as he stepped away from the circular nexus. Behind them, the chamber returned to its quiet heartbeat—the murmuring walls swallowing silence as reverently as they had once devoured sound. The others would linger or depart as they were called, but Theron’s stride was already aligned with a deeper current, and he knew Anton would follow.

They moved through the Sanctuary’s inner halls, architecture designed to humble. Vaulted arches bowed like monks in prayer. Glass lanterns suspended from the ceiling flickered with pale violet flame—ethereal, smokeless. The floor beneath them bore the sigils of the Ascendancy in delicate embossing, visible only when the light passed over it just so. Theron walked them not with haste, but with ceremonial pace, as if the very act of traversing this distance was a rite of passage.

At last, they arrived at the threshold of the Sanctum of Reflection. The air here was different. Quieter. Heavy, not with oppression, but with the weight of knowledge. The room opened like a cathedral turned inward. Shelves climbed the walls in spirals, packed tight with scrolls, books, and illuminated manuscripts that whispered in languages long buried. The scent of parchment and wax was as sacred here as incense.

In the center of the space, pools of light spilled from reading lamps perched like watchful sentinels above clusters of carved desks. Cushioned alcoves built into the walls offered solitude to those who preferred to study in silence, while the centerpiece—a great circular window of stained glass—cast shifting patterns of aquamarine, vermilion, and gold upon the marble floor. It was the Ascendancy, rendered in glass: arms outstretched, cloaked in threads of light, stepping between worlds.

Theron stopped just within the chamber, allowing the moment to breathe. “This is where the mind prepares for what the soul already knows,” he said softly, his voice echoing in the hushed reverence of the space.

“The Sanctum of Reflection is not only a library. One does not come here simply to learn, but to remember. The Veil keeps many truths hidden—but sometimes, the right words, spoken at the right time, can part it like silk.”

His gaze moved across the room to a figure seated beneath the stained glass—half-shrouded in shadow, half-painted in gold. A man surrounded by open books and drifting dust motes, moving as though time moved differently around him. Perhaps it did.

“Lucien Octavius,” Theron intoned, “is our librarian, keeper of the Celestial Codex, and chronicler of those whose questions deserve better answers. Such as yours,” he paused to lay a reassuring hand on Anton's shoulder before guiding them within.

He stepped aside now, as if Anton’s approach was the next act in a quiet ritual. “Lucien has an unusual memory for the arcane and the mythic. He may know of others like you, or of those long forgotten. I suspect he will be… intrigued.”

With that, Theron allowed the moment to settle into silence again—one hand resting loosely behind his back, the other at his side, patient as ever. He was watching now—not just Anton, but the Veil itself. It had brought the man this far.