Kyle Hyubert
Kyle Hyubert (a.k.a. Siren)
A human turned siren with a potent voice and control of water, set out now to make some good of it, even inland.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Slim and lean, sleek and clean, he posesses a fairly modest muscleature akin to a runners or swimmers build.
Body Features
Toned build of his upper half, and with a long fishtail to replace his legs.
Facial Features
Gentle, almost a modest look broken up by a toothy smirk. Deep sea green eyes to draw you in, a voice like a charm, and with rolls of hair to hang just past his shoulders, it's easy get drawn in.
But if you look past the eyes, past his hair of warm chestnut brown that fades on to an almost pale mocha near the back, hints of blue streaks seen in the depths? You'd see it's a fairly plain face beneath. A brief entrapment, but beyond that... mundanity.
Identifying Characteristics
Easily the most distinct feature is his tail. Even when he's standing upright on an edge of it, an easy four feet of scaled flesh and a crescent moon of a tail fin sway behind. Rich bluegreen scales cover from naval and below, the ocasional speckling of deep seagreen spots dotting those scales.
Special abilities
Command of Song and Sea, though hardly in either's entierty. A voice capable of sending the unwilling walking away, or to fog and dizzy the mind of those catch wind. To lull to sleep and ennure the mind.
And the sea to move, to make small waves, to hurtle and create water on command. The lesser of the two strengths, were it not how he moves. How he dives and swims in the space beneath, from the smallest of pond to the grandest of ocean. To him? They all connect. Just dive deep, and resurface.
Apparel & Accessories
Usually decked out in little more than a sleeveless undershirt and a long thin skirt, a belt cinching it to where hips should be, tightened carefully. But, when too cold for that, thick bomber jackets get pulled out, and that shawl changes to a mult-pleated long wool shawl
Mental characteristics
Sexuality
While he might sound and bluster like he swings seven ways to Sunday, he's only really got eyes on the girls. The rest is a well built act.
Education
City Highschool educated, so he's clever enough... just perhaps not all that much in booksmarts. Still, he went on to a vocational school and learned a bit on welding, and has played around with old traditional radios enough to keep them up and running.
Combine with his work stint at an auto shop for a few years, he might not be the smartest, but he's certainly handy at least.
Employment
Currently? Inbetween jobs. Or rather, employed by IREA, so nothing more than gigs he can pick up, delivering food, single order welding gigs, mail, simple stuff.
Before that? Worked as under a Tonys' Auto Dealer, as one of the primary grease monkies. Before that it was more welding gigs, mostly under his own employ.
Before that? Well, he had legs. So that doesn't much matter.
Morality & Philosophy
He believes in right and wrong. That there is that which is objectively the right thing to do, and that which is objectively wrong. But, he's not too sure where it falls all the time. So, he tries to do what he knows to be good.
Philosophy though? Most of it is above his head. Both because it's literally beyond him, and also because if he engaged with it more, it might cast light on his actions, current and previous, in a bad light. He knows it's bad to shy away from it... but he's still trying to.
Biggest thing for him though? If you have the power to do something, and you don't, you have done wrong. This gets him in, and out, of a lot of trouble.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
He has the ability to do something. He sees that with the Darkenings, the blackouts, the brownouts, the control, the issolation and the weak... and watns to do something about it. If he doesn't? What good will those powers do?
IREA is his way to use them to do just that. The rest? He isn't too sure on, but in for a penny in for a pound as they say.
Born of normal means deep in Kansas, an accident before his college graduation left him with fins instead of legs, and a voice with force. After a time, he latched onto LFER to try and do what he felt was right.
View Character Profile
Age
31
Children
Gender
Male
Eyes
Deep Green
Hair
Dark Brown, fading to pale grey
Height
5'10
Weight
165 lb
After the Fall
I thought I got it.
I knew I didn't, never really expected to really get it, you know? But I thought.... I thought I got it. IREA was willing to do whatever they needed, sure. I got that. I... I understood that. It made sense. They see it as though they have to protect the world from itself. From an existential threat of Vanishing and the Hollow.
I... I got that they Darkened Cities. Broke the power plants, threw the town into chaos, left it burning and called it a job well done.
I understood that. I know that happens. It's... Hell, it's why I was willing to risk.... everything! Why I'm here! Why it's....
I'm shivering.
I don't want to, but here I am, just shivering
It's... Been a few days but I can't get it out of my head.
I close my eyes and it's back.
The...
I don't know if it's better or worse that I can stand it.
It... The... The images.
You see it in movies, or games, and sure. You get it. Those are... Were people. But it's actors. It's dummies. It's puppets and games and just... It's not real.
And you see it on television. People. Shawls. Bodies.
But it's a million miles away.
It's a distant nothing that isn't real.
You... You grab your bowl for breakfast and move on with your day. It doesn't... It doesn't impact you. It doesn't change what you need to do that day. It doesn't....
It doesn't matter.
It's not real.
I... Uh, right. Report.
It's.... W-well, our mission was vague, but clear. We... We were supposed to go in and see what we could do. I... I felt it wasn't specific, or clear enough really. Too... Vague an idea. Just go and see what we could do.
But, uh...
W-we... made it there. Just Honey Badger and me this time. She was dropped off and I...
W-we got there.
It was....
Rancid.
The air it.... You know the taste. Like someone just sprayed some air freshener, and you breath it in too quick. It's sharp, and wet, and stings. But.... It..
There were, uh...
I'm okay.
It's fine.
There were people. On the streets. On the roads. Sidewalks. In each building we found. Dead.
Not one. Not two or a handful of people. But.... Everyone.
Everyone, everything there was.... Dead. The air thick with....
It....
We.... We found one that was alive. Dying, but... Alive. He had some.... Regeneration that was going on. Keeping him alive but.... Stuck dying.
I don't want to imagine how long he was there.
We did our best to patch him up and move on, Badger carrying him. But we....
They... They sent people. IREA. Not to... Fix. Or field dress. Or give people a burial.
It was a clean up squad. Finish off who... Lived.
The... They attacked and I honestly don't remember much of it. It.... There was someone who darted near, so I let him dream it away. That I.... Left.
Someone up top shouting to surrender. A lightning blast. Something....
I... I didn't know.
I didn't know it was this bad.
I...
This is... Siren.
Is this what we are up against?
Club NightStar
New York never stops being New York huh?
I mean, sure, obviously. The whole place is New York, but it's more... Still the same, no matter what. Like the people. They just keep going.
Honey Badger led us on down and away from the shining lights, and it was like the city changed on the block. It was still New York though.
The towers stood tall and the crowd was pushing, there were shouts and people trying to grab your attention. It's New York! Everybody's got a dream, everybody's gonna do all they can to get it.
But it's dark here.
Places that never really recovered from the darkening. Some rebuilt, some remodeled, some didn't bother. The hum of generators fills the air, and the aura of a more desperate people. Of a hungry people.
It's still New York. Just not one you'd think.
It was Honey Badgers idea.
We won! We actually managed to get away with a shard, and run wild! First real victory in a hot minute by the sounds of it! So, why not celebrate? Go clubbing, drag us along, make the most of it.
Scarlet Sprite was against it, more focused on tuning that bike of hers. Eh! Everyone relaxes differently, and goodness knows we need it after that mess. She offered instead a roadhouse down the way. But, ain't a club, dancefloor or no, so we split. Her off on her tractor to the roadhouse, me and Honey Badger on back to a club.
Seemed to be a place she knew too, least it looked that way, weaving in and out from streets as she was. Did my best just working to keep up! Tails. Ain't the best at that!
Still, gave me some time at least to look around. The city, I mean. It was ... Well, it was still New York like I said. But it's more, close?
The people. The shops. The light, the fights, the grime. It made people hunker together in the dark. Markets that cropped up and moved. People.... Who were there. Not lost a million miles from where they were.
If it weren't for the air of worry and threat, might even be nice, that honesty.
But, soon enough we rounded the corner to the right place. You could tell cause of the music. Not quite muted, and not so electrical as most clubs might be. Sounded like a live band.
Club Nightstar. Named thanks to the old neon sign of stars, long long since dead. Too expensive to keep it running, or maybe it was just a good marker? No clue.
Either way, it looked to be one of the few Clubs that still ran this late in the Darkened part of the city. No better place.
Inside, it was dark. Who'd have guessed, darkened part of the city is dark! Congrats. Still, it was more an.... Aesthetic dark. Six, seven lights ran, all dim and low. Enough to see some, but the details, the people, the shapes? Gone. Nothing in that low light.
Simple. Tables were occupied or not. The dance floor was a thronging mass of people, of limbs, of motion. Silhouettes took the seats, bar stools stood empty. Who you are, thrown away in the welcome embrace of the dark.
Sweat and cheap alcohol burned the nose, indistinct loud punk music assaulted the ears, touch mangled by spills unseen and bodies left unmoving by rest or drunkenness. With the dark, the place thrumbed like it was Alive.
It was exciting. Exhilarating. Unknowable and Intentional.
We took a seat, or at least I did. Needed a moment to just reel at the whole of it. Honey Badger though? She took to it with aplomb. Here, she was alive! Same sort of drive I saw to beat IREA into the dirt, now just directed to Living in the moment.
What, thought I said it was hard to keep an eye on people? It was! Is really. But she just carries herself different than most. She strikes a strong figure, even in the dark. Good figure too. Hard not to notice her.
I drank, she danced. No song sounding half as sweet as the next. Just living for a moment, a world away from home.
... Heh, careful. Don't get all melancholy on me.
Lucky, Honey Badger caught sight of me. Drink, warm fries, and a bar stools are nice, but that ain't clubbing. Not to me, and certainly not to her.
Shoved me off, probably cursing something I couldn't make out, full glad for food and a warm seat. I got the message and made for the dance floor.
Now, I'll let you know this. Dancing? It involves movement of the legs. A hell of a lot of it. Lacking those? Eh, not the best. But, this was a writhing mass of people lost in the music, in the drink, in the motion.
So didn't matter if my dance was more arms and swaying, and rhythm. Sure, a few tripped, some even on a accident! But people laughed, and kept going.
Shoot, pretty sure I laughed too.
Guess that's when I let my guard down. No, wasn't attacked. But just... I let go of the worry for a bit. Wasn't Kyle, far from home. Wasn't Siren, fighting for a cause. Was just a guy, having fun, making a fool of myself.
We ate. Nasty, greasy, hot food. Badger complained it was nothing compared to the stuff at home. I agreed. Drank bitter and strong drink, pretty sure Honey Badger mocked me for wincing, heavens only know how she saw. Danced.
Can't remember much past that. There was another club, something with purples and ugly darker shades. Somewhere, I threw up. Pretty sure someone threw a punch at us at one point? Or maybe we throw the punch first.
It's a haze. A blur of simple, dark, pleasant half memories now.
Still.
Doesn't help the hangover.
Maybe I can find a nice dark lake to sleep this shit off.
Open Arms and Sewer Grates
Filthy.
Disgusting, Unpleasant, Dirty, Messy, Gross, Wretched and Filthy.
The water was cold, and honesty? Kyle was grateful for it. It was something to help distract him, to numb him. His hands worked with the fourth destroyed sponge he managed to scrounge from the spare supplies closet in the showers.
He had wound up in some local rec center. He hadn't the faintest idea where, but that hardly mattered right then. He was barely holding on, gasping and shuddering as he surfaced in the pool. A small blessing as far as he was concerned! Pools meant showers, and somewhere to clean up. And somewhere to clean up was the second thing he needed. No worry of being caught, no fear of reprisal.... what with the time and location, it would be a miracle to be found there.
But first was to just breath.
He shivered thinking it over again, shaking his head. No good dwelling. Can talk it through later. For now?
For now, he continued ruining the fifth sponge now. Scrubbing, scraping at himself to get it all clean. To get it out and try to clear that stench.
Hydrokinesis had helped the most. Gripping all that raw sewage on him, and what he left in the pool, as a trail. Funneling it on back into the drain to just take it away. But for the smell, the feel, and his sanity, a more thorough cleaning was still needed. A scrub, a cleaning, and his clothes?
If he had a spare set, they would be burnt. Instead? Well, soon as he was done with himself, they were going to get a manual washing.
It was when the sixth sponge stopped coming away in putrid colors, when he could see more clearly that brilliant blue hue of his scales, his plain flesh above that he began to relax. Or at least, let his mind focus.
What had happened? It was supposed to be quick and easy, and instead....
The shower had been turned off by the time he found his words again.
Clothes still sopping wet and a mess, but far far cleaner now. Thanks municipal water system, you'll never be forgotten. The rec's centers free towels used, and the empty pool ahead of him as Siren, as Kip, as Kyle looked out across it.
Nervous hands shifted. The water followed, twisting and turning, a physical mirror as he looked on.
Dangerous. More than he expected by a mile.
One hand claspt about a little silver recorder. Something to center himself. Something familiar and his in such a strange world.
He clicked the button, and began to speak.
"It.... Was the sewers."
"Sorry, hi, yes, hello. Should probably begin with something more than just hopping into it, ha! Sorry, just.... Still reeling from it all! Easy to keep going right then, but then you stop! And...."
His free hand stilled. The water churned.
"It, uh... It was the sewers. First mission, first time out, first got to meet the rest of the team." Running a hand through his hair, rambled on.
"Honey Badger and.... Scarlet Sprite I think she said."
"Honey Badger is.... Well, bout this much taller. Foreign, pretty clearly. Heh. Half the words they said I'm pretty sure weren't English. Strong by the looks and sounds of it, and with claws to match." He paused, considering. "Bit more violent than I expected, but guess it takes all sorts."
"Sprite is.... Different. Didn't get as much of a read on her. Probably the helmet, can't read their face as well. But she carries herself well. More proud standing than Honey Badger I think. Least, hope so. She tried shouting down a monster thing after all."
He let himself chuckle at that, slowly uncurling, laying back against the smooth tile. Close his eyes. Take a breath.
"But, getting ahead of myself there. We, ah, we were called there. Apparently they messed up their last few missions. 's why I got called in. And why we were in the sewers. Not the most pleasant of places, even for me! But, ah.... We're tasked with picking up energy shards or.... Something."
His eyes opened, considering it as he spoke to himself. "Not.... Real clear what or why. But, well.... You know how it goes. LFER says you go, you go, yeah?"
"So, we get there, Scarlet takes up the box. The.... Whatever canister it is. Supposed to contain the shards so no one can find them. Least that's what she said. Honey Badger went ahead, and I... Well, hopped into the sewage. It's faster, and gross, and I'll live, but, you know how it goes. In for a penny and all that."
"But... Rounded the corner and saw a mess of.... Monster things. Nasty crickets, but the size of dogs. Ugly, pulsing fleshy ... Terrible shit. We fought them a minute and I dove behind and away to get away after a near miss... And then the mess started."
His hands rose, falling to his chest as he remembered. "Mister Intangible Man. Least, that's what Sprite shouted. Found out why later. But... I dove, he must have seen me. No clue why he was there, but far as I hear? That's pretty standard with Badger and Sprite.
"He gave a shout for us all to run off. That and.... did Something." He shivered and shook his head. "Felt like everything was.... Worse. Heavier. Nastier. Don't know what he did, but it was.... Rough. Like I couldn't quite support myself there."
"Shrugged and let him see what he wanted. Worked. For a moment at least. Thinking back.... I should have done more there, or something else, or just.... Something. Instead Sprite ran around and shouted something at him. Don't quite remember what, as I was stuck dealing with the crickets again."
A dry chuckle sounded as he shook his head. "People? It's a cinch! Monsters like that? Well... Honey Badger was good at taking care of them at least. And I... well..."
He closed his eyes, rubbing his brow, trying to.... Talk. Think. Not focus but remember.
"You.... Ever feel what it's like when a train runs by? It's heavy. It's loud. And it's got that kind of.... Force that you just get. If it hits you, you're done."
"He missed."
"Intangible Man. Or, Super Tangible Man. I dunno what happened, but he must have snapped out of it quick and decided to run me down. And... like I said, he missed fortunately. Not by much, I can tell you that. He ran and the stones cracked. The wall took his weight as he hammered into it, but it shook. When he moved back, you could see the cracking veins in the wall. That? That's....."
"Well, I ran. Not forever far away mind! This is supposed to be a team effort, so going and running off without the others wouldn't do well... and besides. If they were close, they could provide some backup! ... In theory."
"In practice? While I was trying to get Mister Man to take a nap, quite literally even! Those two were running off and... bickering. Something about who was holding the box or... what have you. Middle of my first run and what are they doing? Arguing among themselves while I'm fighting for my life out here!"
He had to laugh. It was either that or panic or despair. So laugh at it instead. "Honestly, think I could tell you now why the last few missions were busts! Only met them half an hour and that? Well... First impressions, am I right?"
Groaning a moment, he hefted himself back up, before slipping into the pool, leaning up against the edge as he rambled into his recorder. "Anyway, Mister Man throws the damn monster at me, and everything goes white. By the time I come to? He did that... something again. Only worse. It ain't like I'm sitting there and there's a weight on me. It's like I'm being sucked down against the earth, like my fingers and hands and arms and tail are all just... being thrown into the ground. Sucked down or something."
"I just prayed it was an area effect, so slapped my tail and dove away. Lucky me, it was."
"Throw on up a good wall between the two of us, and I was making ready to see if our team... well, 'Team' did the rest of the job. Seems like it too! Least, I hoped that was why Sprite was running with the box like hell on legs. Badger was snipping and snarling at something, but I didn't have the time to check."
"Yup, Mister Man. Intangible Man! Making good on his name, he made a beeline on to Scarlet. Through the wall, through the sewer, and back again..." He sighed, resting his head on the cool tile. "Dunno what I was thinking. Called him Intangible so what do I do? Put a wall up! That'll work."
"Well, I ran back closer, watching the two of them running, and sang again. Pipes, they got good echoes! And Tangible or Not, Mister Man's can still hear. So I had Scarlet vanish. Just... up into mist. If she can get away with the crate, we are gold. And luckily, she did."
"With Mister Man chasing ghosts, I ran on back to see what the holdup was. The snarling the screaming the clashing of claws... Well, I saw alright. Something like a hairless person shaped... thing was there. Claws out to hear and a face to make you wince... and a voice to do that too! Seems she was the reason Badger was hold up."
"So, drew up another wall between 'em. If Honey Badger was facing this thing, I was facing Blue Slippery and Painful, then Scarlet was on objective. And she had run with the box, so we needed to bounce. Badger got the idea and began running, after insulting the thing."
"Honest, don't know if that was really needed. Like, listen. I get why you'd use the Freak word, but come on. As someone who's had that said to, it never feels great."
"Either way, we both were making for the exit when Mister Man decided he was done playing games with shadows, and set out to take out Badger. I tried to pull him down, drop his focus and get him just so I could pull him under nice and deep. And for a second? It took. You can hear it, always. But..."
"Fella's made of sterner stuff than most. Shook it off like a champ. That, with the crickets rousing themselves and biting at me, and the screams of the witch lady getting louder? Had to escape. Like, I mean I had to. No way I was running past Mister Man there, and who knows what that thing was gonna do? So I shot an appology to Badger as she was running, and drew the water up, and started prying at it like you do. Near didn't make it, but... slipped through just in time."
"Now? Just gotta find those two again. See if they went to the safehouse first. Lucky me. Either way, this is Siren, Field Report Number 1. Signing off."
He sighed as he gave a final click to that silver tube. A request that had been made when he was assigned to this team. Afte rthe last few missions, they wanted a first hand account of what happened in each mission. Get to see what made it succeed, what caused it to go wrong. An audio journal, as informal as it might be, should suffice. Least, that was his hope.
For now? Dive deep. Pull back the veil between water... and look for that safehouse.
The Call
Light flickered in the dim room, shadows playing across the walls as he waited.
Ball in hand he threw it up once more. Rising, just barely stalling before the ceiling, and falling once more. Pretty close this time, probably a habit. Certainly if the smudge marks on the ceiling were anything to go by.
But the dim room, was filled with more than just the faded light. more than his idle motion. It was full of what should be life. What should be a home.
A long bench framed in the room, straight across from an old school plasma tv, set right in the wall. Probably some old off brand type, he had never bothered to check. Hardly had the power to waste on that most of the time. Most of that went to work or heating. Or food. The idle pleasure of the endless scroll was a thing of his youth.
A pair of wooden chairs, all but unused sat in the corner. Extra seats for the guests that never came. A little desk by the side, a little tub in the corner. And in the center? A kotatsu. An old fashioned low table with an electric heater in the bottom, and a quilt draped over the top. Simple, cheap, elegant way to keep someone warm while eating. Or working.
Or throwing a ball into the air.
Kyle lay out on the floor, half his body stuck under the quilt's lining, gently warming as he waited. Ball in hand, thrown up. Come to a stop. Then back down. Habit to pass the time. One hand on the ball.
"It's been two days." The other hand on a silver little tube. A hand recorder, audio only. Old, traditional, cheap... and low on the electric cost to recharge.
"I figured it would happen eventually. But I guess you never really expect it huh?" His voice rolled out, warm and gentle, melodic and calming as he spoke. Only that and the gentle hum of the electric heater to keep company in the little room.
"I finally was needed. Or, called I suppose. Told to make ready and move out." He caught the ball. Set it down. Felt at the edge of that quilted fabric. "So tonight is the last night here. Last night here. Last night anywhere, just me."
"Not sure whether I should feel more scared or excited. Heh, probably a better person would feel both!"
"Nah."
A brief laugh broke the quiet, his face pulled up into a grin. "Though, I tell ya, I won't soon forget the look on Old Tony's face. Forget two weeks notice, he got two days! Ha! Oh heavens was he pissed!"
"Nah! Heh, he swore me up one side and down the other. Grumbled how I was going to be losing him business and some customers. Why that I hadn't even taken his work, his effort, and the time he put into me to heart!"
"I just smiled and said he was just sad to have to get someone new for house calls! Heh!"
"He..."
"... Well... I probably should have apologized for that. Seeing that look on his face."
"But what can I tell him? Certainly not the truth."
"Should have lied. Not just left it at that."
The house lapsed into silence, the gentle whir of the electric heater, the soft ticking of a clock.
There was a shuffling. Movement of fabric as he turned around, looking back at that desk. Back to one of the few decorations on it. One of the only things he'd gotten from his contact.
A red telephone.
Maybe it was supposed to have been a joke. Maybe it was meant as a prank. But... it was just as he said.
It had been two days since that phone rang for the first time. The words played on repeat in his mind.
'Two days. Pack up.'
Four words. Fourty eight hours to pack up his life into a backpack. What would come, what would go, what he'd need, what he would miss... Didn't matter. Get what he had to. That's what was important.
Fourty eight hours to invent reasons to everyone that mattered why he was going away. To settle his affairs, pay his debts, clear out everything. Nothing to tie back to him where he was going. Nothing to lead home.
Everything he could get for cash he did. The rest would have to stay behind.
Eight years of life left behind in half as many words.
The ball rose. The ball fell.
"Two da-"
There was a knock at the door.
Kyle shivered and began to move. Thumb held down the button on the recorder for three seconds, the signal to delete the recording.
No space for regret where he's going.
Scales brushed beside that quilt, near three meters of them as that long fish tail unspooled as he rose up. Balancing more than standing as he slithered as much as swam across the ground, the thick carpet beneath carrying him along.
Deep, brilliant blue and fading green scales to coat that mass, a slow sway of that long crescent shaped tailfin, Kyle winding his way to the door.
He didn't bother checking. Just reached down for his bag, slung it over his shoulder and opened the door.
It was just a call he couldn't refuse.
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