The Sly Angel

Grant was taken aback by how much he had seen within a matter of half an hour. A swordswoman with such agility and grace had killed wolf creatures, creatures he deducted had murdered the large policemen that were after him. And now he was being thrust into a world he was not sure he was ready to be a part of. "Wait, did you say vampire?" He asked, though his words weren't audible being muffled by the gag. He wasn't sure of the validity of the woman's words, but considering the circumstances, he figured he had better be complacent, until he could find his way out. Grant glanced around for any opening of escape. He had lost his notebook to the forest, but figured he wouldn't have enough time to draw anything quick enough to help him out even if he had a paper and pen on his person. Not to mention he had never used his ability in front of anyone, and made a rule for himself to keep that talent of his to himself. I guess I'm at the mercy of these people. Grant thought to himself. What have you gotten yourself into, Grant? He awaited the answer of what they had in mind for him.

Grant stumbled through the dark of the forest, sprinting as fast as he could in order to avoid the police that were after him. He figured he would eventually be able to pull himself out of this situation as he had countless others for the past two years. "Note to self, check your surroundings more thoroughly for cameras when stealing food." He muttered to himself, panting as he continued darting around the trees. He could hear the footsteps of the cops getting closer. Before long, Grant had run out of stamina and leaned against a tree. He ran his hand through his large afro. "Well, you had a good run. Prison won't be so bad; they got free meals, a bed to sleep on. You can even get married in there, I hear." As he closed his eyes awaiting his incarceration, the sounds of the footsteps stopped, as the sounds were replaced with screaming, followed by howling and indescribable sounds of chewing that Grant tried not to think too much about. Grant began to panic. He could only assume that the policemen met their demise, and any creatures big enough to take down four men above the height of 6 feet would surely have no problem devouring him. He frantically searched for any other sign of life, something that might be able to save him from these creatures that he heard getting closer and closer to his location. "Oh God, please, someone, anyone please help me out here..." He squealed. As if on cue, Grant saw a blur of attached carriages rushing towards him at an alarming speed. Without thinking of the possible dangers, Grant plopped himself on the ground, and reached into his rucksack pulling out the notebook and pen he had picked up during his failed heist at the Walmart he robbed. Quickly he began to draw a very rough sketch of a rope, drawing as much detail as he could before the carriages had entered his vicinity, and adding a hook to one end. When he had finished, the black ink began to rise from the paper, spiraling into the woven pattern that Grant had designed for the rope. Within seconds, the ink had solidified into a decently large rope, landing in his lap. He quickly rose, tying the rope to his rucksack and began spinning the rope in his hand as he waited for the opportune time to throw the rope. "Come on... come on..." A bead of sweat fell down his forehead, until the carriages rushed past him, only a few feet away from where he was standing. He chucked the rope, successfully hooking it to the top of one of the carriages. He was immediately pulled, the force of the carriages on Grant's body being lessened through the rucksack. He pulled himself onto the top of the carriages, just as the rope began dissipating in the air. He pulled himself up. "I guess weirder things have happened." Grant joked, blocking out of his mind the absurdity of a set of carriages traveling this fast. The carriage he was standing on passed over a huge bump, nearly knocking him off the carriage as he lost his notebook over the edge. "Guess I'm on my own for now..." He picked himself up, and, hearing the commotion on top of the carriages ahead of him, began to follow the source, with the intention of whoever was running the speedy carriages. Grant had finally arrived behind a woman older than him gracefully wielding a sword, and facing large wolf-like creatures. Defenseless without some form of paper and pen, he hung behind within a visible distance behind the woman wielding a sword. "What kind of Freakshow is this..." He pondered.

I'm gonna read all the posts so I can catch up, but I would love to be a part of this! Here's my character: [*]Supernatural Humans Name: Grant Fox Age: 14 Gender: Male Appearance: Abilities: Able to create creatures or monsters, as well as create atmospheric illusions, by writing a description or drawing a picture using a pen and paper. The longer he spends drawing or describing the creation, the stronger and longer it will last. Despite this, monsters cannot last long in reality, and all of his creations fade after a while. He is also only able to do these things when he has access to a pen and paper. As a result, he is usually carrying a notebook and pen. Job/Position: Soon to be performer, joins after stumbling into the camp Performance: Magic act, uses descriptions from audiences to create things out of notebook Bio: Grant Fox had lost his parents under mysterious circumstances that he has not yet learned about when he was just a baby, and as a result was placed in multiple foster homes. After discovering that his imagination could be a weapon, by the age of 12 he had been on the run, using his abilities to survive, and running from the authorities that are tracking him down, after he has committed many misdemeanors wherever he goes. Fun facts: Aside from writing and drawing, he is also a talented soul singer, having received this talent from his mother, though he chooses not to sing in front of others