Queen Mahalia had decided to have a news conference where she explained about the Otherkin to the humans who had recently discovered that Otherkin were a thing. The Demonic leader, had decided that she was going to do the unprecdented, she was going to rule the Underground and the Overworld, she just needed to announce herself, and the woman was going to do that today.

The news crew was all line up when she approached the podium confidentally to speak. "Ladies and gentleman, I know it has been a difficult time for humans and Otherkin alike. With the Harbinger on the way, several candidates vying for the throne and wanting to laad you. I am not asking for anyones permission however. I have risen from hell and it is my intention to do what my father Ramiel once did. I am going to take charget of the entire world."

Everyone started talking all at one and she began taking questions. "I am not a tyrant, she answered one of the reporters that compared her to her father the Blood God. I am a Goddess in my own right, true, but I do not rule the way Ramiel did. I will not use fear to keep the world in line. I will foster cooperation as we enter a new age, together."

"And why should we believe you?" One of the reporters asked. "Many people talk a good talk but you are a Demon. Aren't Demons not to be trusted?"

"Not all Demons are evil. Demons, are misunderstood entites that reveal truths that some people find too hard to comprehend and things that they wish that could hide. I am here to expose truth to the world, and by ruling you all, I will really be setting you all free."

"Humans will get a seat on the Council. This has never been done before, and like so many other things I plan to do, is unprecented." Mahalia said. "But by daring to be different, I am going to make this work."

Damon stood outside of the burning building, irritated that the hunter had brought his home to the ground.  He was extremely angry and it seemed that one thing after another kept happening to his family. He was genuinely sick of it. "I tell you when I get my hands on that little shit I am going to rip him apart. This was my family home. In the family for generations. I always expected if my home was brought to ruins it would be by a Dragomir, not a damned hunter."

Damon had been alone at the time. Serena, who was newly raised from the dead was not there, and Stefan, the actual oldest brother who should have been in charge technically but was not had been gone ever since Damon killed Theo. Noone knew where he was or if he was even still alive.

Damon grabbed the one thing he was able to save from the fire, a box that had been given to him by Ramiel years ago to safeguard. He had no idea what was in it he could never manage to open the thing, but he started off with the box to a hotel where he checked in for the night.

He went out into the lobby and had a seat. "Where the hell are family and friends when you need them? I feel so alone right now. So very alone."

Cormach was one of the little people. He was seated on a bench in Chinetown eating some Chinese food and feeling sorry for himself.

The leperchaun, as that was the type of fae he was, was in trouble with the Otherkin Council again. Well he was always in trouble with the Council it seemed for something or another, and usually he did these things on purpose because he was bored, but this time it was a geniune accidetnt.

He got on the phone and spoke with his Prince, Damon Vincent. "I told you already I did not mean to kill the Imp Ambassador. Imps are flies not friends to me. I did not know that his father was an actual important Imp and I did not know Imps were ever important. You have to be kidding me. He wants a Chocolate factory in reperation?"

Cormach rolled his eyes. "I cannot hear you. You are breaking up." He hung up, and put his phone away and said. "Why does this always happen to me? Pxies, Imps, Trolls, I have offended them all. And not just with my good looks." He thought he heard someone approaching. "You can come out I know you are there. I can hear you."

It wasn't a glorious set up by any standards. The house was run down and in need of a roof replacement rather soon. That wasn't his concern though. Neither was the dirt lawn instead of grass, with sprouts of weeds popping up from cracks in the Earth, nor the chipping paint, or the thunderbird in pieces under the car awning. If Fetch didn't know his "friend" Bradley with his Girlfriend Cierra lived at this dump he wouldn't have thought it was lived in at all. 

No, his domain stood right next to him parked under a tree in the backyard. A 1977 Cozy Cot Traveler, complete with wood panel siding and cracked windshield. It was an ugly piece of shit, but the mobile home was well, home. It had been for about 6 months until he'd made it here. Here? Where was that? Unfortunately a shitty little town called Motor Falls, hidden in some desert corner of the country. This was the last place Fetch had heard anything on his brother's whereabouts. Even getting that much information was, hard. 

It'd been almost 8 months since he'd heard from his brother after leaving home to go on a cross country motorcycle trip, and as far as he could tell the trail just stopped dead right here. He'd done everything in his power to make contact with the community out here but so far, all he'd done was met Bradley over the phone. All he knew was that his brother had been here and he was going to spend the next little while working on this mans, "farm" to make ends meet while he scrounged for clues.

Farm was putting it generously. Bradley grew all sorts of pot all around his house and smoked it too. The house was in such shit condition because he couldn't let anyone inside of it but himself and his girlfriend. In reality Bradley probably sat on enough cash to buy a nice house out of this dump, but well, old habits died hard. 

He looked into the rearview mirror of the trailer at an approaching figure hobbling across the lawn behind him. Must've been his new "boss" now. He turned around and about jumped out of his skin.

An elderly woman with permed white hair was approaching him. She wore a pink cardigan and a white mumu with blue edges. This was an odd enough sight, but it only got far more disturbing. The woman's mumu was stained deep red across the front and she was hobbling because she was pushing a walker across the dirt. 

That wasn't even the cherry on top, hanging from her upper jaw were the tattered remains of her lower one, just hanging viscerally down and moving around sickeningly as she made her way towards Fetch who desperately wanted to go inside the trailer and pretend she wasn't there.

But he knew that didn't work.

As she approached making the most heinous gurgling sound he'd ever heard in his life, Fetch relaxed a little bit recognizing that the woman was indeed a tortured spirit, not a member of the walking dead.

"What is it, who are you and what do you want? I'm not the ghost whisperer, I'm not here to bring you to peace with your death or your loved ones. From the looks of it I think your loved ones could've... Shown a bit more care?" 

"RrrrraaaaAARRRRggghh" was all the woman could muster as she lurched forward for a moment then jerked to the side pointing. That was weird. He turned and looked where she was pointing. Way in the distance, a couple streets over he could see a bike parked at probably the only bar if not one of two in town. Normally it would just confuse him, he wouldn't understand what this tortured spirit was trying to convey, but in this case it was clear. His brother had been a motorist, and that bike looked like it belonged to a gang.

"Oh thank you- Uh, sorry about your- whole, jaw mess yeah?" The elderly woman screeched at him in rage and he stepped back before she turned around and started hobbling off. Seeing the dead was weird, for him it was like seeing any other person except there was usually some give away they were dead. Like their jaw hanging off their face for lack of a better example. 

He'd just gotten into town, nobody would know him here. Should he really be going into a bar? He had to though, if this had something to do with his missing brother he couldn't ignore it. 

He climbed into the shitty jeep he normally pulled behind the trailer and revved it to life, it took him a matter of 30 seconds to essentially cross half the town to get to the bar but, so was the small town life he supposed. He parked next to the bike and got out. It was definitely a pretty piece of machinery, but it most definitely not his brothers. It had emblems of some motorcycle 'club' all over it along with dangling leather tassels and doo dads, a classic collection of many souvenirs from a lot of motorcycle rallies. 

He felt intimidated. 

Fetch was a small man, standing just below 5'7 with black hair and piercing yellow eyes that disturbed people sometimes. Though with his dusting of freckles sometimes the girls liked to call him cute to tease. Little did they know he'd never been much for girls... He wore an old torn army green jacket with a blue and white striped t shirt that he adjusted in the side mirror of his jeep. He wiped his dusty hands on his blue denim jeans and knocked the dirt off his small black combat boots before he looked up and around again. 

Something didn't feel right, it felt like he was being watched and Fetch didn't like it. He did the watching, the seeing, the cunning things. Not the other way around. Gravel crunched under his feet as he headed towards the entrance of The Rowdy Rancher.

As he walked in, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol assaulted his nose and he rolled his eyes walking up to the counter. A big and busty woman with curly red hair gave him a beaming grin as she polished a stein. "Ah! You're Bradley's new farmhand ain't ya?" Fetch smiled and nodded. The woman gave him a small smirk and burst out laughin.

"Whatchya helpin him farm honey? Strawberries?" She cackled and snorted almost dropping the Stein. Apparently it was no secret what Bradley was up to around here amongst the townspeople." The redhead saws his look and shook her head. "Now don't you worry hun, Sheriff Wakes can't be bothered with bradley anymore and he's the only goddamn policeman we got here!" She cackled again and set down the glass leaning on her elbow towards him. "I'm Mad Maxxie, Friends call me Max. What can I get ya hun? It's just getting dark so it's happy hour on drinks." Fetch smiled politely.

"Actually I was hoping to talk to the owner of the bike out front?" Suddenly all the noise in the bar went dead and even Max's jaw dropped a bit as the hair on her arms stood on end. "Uh sure, He's just over there- Hon" She leaned down and whispered. "Whatever business you got with him I suggest you leave it dead. and. buried... Just do yourself a favor, take a drink to go and walk right back outta here."

Fetch gave her an odd look before heading in the direction he'd initially pointed her in. 

Max just shook her head like  she was watching a martyr go to the gallows.

Fetch eventually come up to a booth housing a man with a biker's cut on his back. His face was hidden in shadow, but he could make out just that much.

"Excuse me-?" He asked tentatively.

"I just don't see why we need to kill him." Rani said in a bored monotone as she sipped her tea. "Surely there are some magical abortion methods we could try first. I get that your heartbroken but for Christ Sake Devan you're an old immortal vampire, grow up." Rani said plainly as she picked up a paper and looked at it.

"Also this paperwork has all sorts of propositions to turn your brothers into nobodies. This all seems like a gross conflict of interest, I'm not sure how you have all the others convinced. The ancient vampiress spoke as she sat across Devan's desk from him. "I'm sorry I don't know if I can support this motion, and as you know, for execution the council must be unanimous." She gave him a dry look. "I won't have the council used to take care of your personal petty problems Devan. You can't just weaponize the council to hold a grudge. She stated.

Rani sat there in her white blazer, contrasting her deep chesnut skin. Rani's biggest problem was a lot of people saw her as a hypocrite. Rani's rule over Egypt had been bloodthirsty. Over the years though she'd proven to have matured, from being a 20 year old stuck on a throne. However Rani was famous for believing that the otherkin still held superiority over humans. She tucked a lilac lock of hair behind her ear.

If that is all, I believe I shall take my leave, your highness." She stood, turning around and making a distasteful face Devan couldn't see. She hated calling this broter by that formal title especially, not that she liked refering to the other brothers as such much better. Rani in her mind was still fit to be a ruler. She'd run for council head a few times but no one had been brave enough to vote against the Vincents, especially now with everything going on, the world almost ending and all of that.

"My vote is no, Devan. I'll make it known at the meeting this evening, but I thought you should know ahead of time. If we truly can't eliminate the threat by other means then we shall reconvene. But for right now it seems your personal grief clouds your judgement. You can't just execute otherkin because they piss you off. That's not how I do things, I've been a trusted advisor to your brother for years and I'm not about to turn around on every value I've set forth on a dime like this."

"Now is there anything else you needed from me or may I take my leave Devan?"

CormCormach is one of the Fae. He is a Leperchaun specifically. There are many kinds of Fae, and that just happens to be the kind he is. He lost his pot of gold and he has been trying to get it back for about twenty years, so he is not on good terms with the others of his kind.

Cassiel, (Kassandra (Cassiel) does not have a last name, but has used many last names over the years. She is an angel and one of heaven's warriors. She rebels against the status quo, and is not as angelic as she may appear.

Heather Mason is a Shifter, and an Alpha female. She currently rules over the Silver Moon Pack in Apocaleptika. She may be a female, but she is just as capable a warrior as any man, and has earned both her place and the respect of her packmates.

The PriPrince of the Overworld, Gregory Alexander, is a powerful and Ancient Vampire, ruling over Apocaleptika's Otherkin. He is just but fair, but do not underestimate him as a member of the Light Faction or it may be the last thing you ever do.

LunaLuna Hardt is a latent witch, just starting to awaken and discover her abilities. Without training she poses a danger to Otherkin and Human alike.