The Grand OC! [CONTEST XXX: HALLOWEEEEEEEEEEN]

Username: I ain't saying nothing.
Name(s): "Rule number one: no real namesss, and that goesss even for thossse of you who already know one another. Let me introdussse everybody," the lady in red points at the first of the gathered crew, "Thisss isss the Chariot." He's tall, kinda wiry, dressed in a scruffy seldom-worn suit. Like everyone else here his face is hidden behind a mask, it's cheap white plastic, plain and unremarkable, likely bought as part of a set (and indeed the rest of the set can be seen on the other crew members around the room). His hair is greasy, slicked back by hand. There's something kind of off about him. "Asssuming you don't make too much of a messs of thisss thing the Chariot'sss going to be getting usss out of there, ssstraight to a private little moon where we can hunker down until the heat diesss off."

The lady in red moves onto the next individual, a woman in a hoodie, jeans and boots. Her hands are jammed into her pockets; that combined with her mask and hood means nothing can be seen of her skin. Faint pink light seems to shine from behind the eyeholes. "Thisss isss The Tower. Ssshe hasss a natural aptitude for trainsss." That wasn't exactly the truth, but the lady in red didn't exactly want to announce the fact that they were working with a poltergeist. "Ssshe'sss going to be the one bringing the train from the ambusssh point to the loading point."

The next guy is an enormous wall of flesh in a tracksuit. His skin is a pale green, peeling and swollen wherever it's visible. He's so heavily muscled that one might suppose it can't be natural, and it isn't. "Thisss isss Ssstrength." The lady in red announces. "It kind of goesss without saying but, he's our mussscle."

The next person isn't actually a person but a small hovering drone. As if in mockery of the others it's wearing a mask as well, though unlike those of its co-conspirators its mask is fashioned into a cheap imitation of a popular children's wizard. "Thisss isss the Magician," she pauses and smiles, "or ssshould I sssay Magician's asssissstant. Thisss isss asss much as you'll sssee of him; the Magician doesssn't do that whole in perssson thing."

"How's that fair?" The Tower interrupts. "How does he get to sit at home while we go out there and risk our asses."

"When you can carry out your contribution to this caper remotely you'll be welcome to do ssso." The lady in red replies swiftly. "He'll be responsible for ssstopping the train in the first place, as well as ssshutting down all electronicsss within the vicinity and making sssure nobody can get into contact with the polissse." Another small untruth; it was a favour to the Magician itself to allow the others to believe that somewhere there was another being in control of the drone.

And finally there is a short stout woman in indigo robes and a pointed hat, unmistakably the robes of a wizard. Even despite the mask it's clear to see she was a little irate. "And finally thisss isss The Hermit." the lady in red concludes. "Ssshe's our Cursssebreaker. For those of you not familiar with modern anti-theft protocols, ssshe's the one making sssure we don't all wither away to nothingnesss the moment we try to ssspend our prissse."

"Excuse me but why am I not The Magician." The Hermit interrupts.

"Thisss isssn't a matter for dissscusssion." The lady in red tries to press on.

"I can actually do magic and hey it seems to me that technoboy over there all cocooned up in his home like a hermit would suit my alias a whole lot better'n me."

"ENOUGH." Everyone in the room is suddenly transfixed, vacantly staring into the lady in red's eyes. She clears her throat and continues. "And, of courssse, you can call me The Devil." She smiles a devilish grin.

Species: "If anything goes wrong, asss far asss the authoritiesss are concerned..." she pauses, "Well we're all humanoid, right? We're practically humansss. If anyone's caught we all sssay we're jussst boring humans right? No sssenssse in ruining everyone else'sss day jussst becaussse you fucked up." The group mumbled a vacant agreement.

Gender: "And I don't know about the rest of you but it sssure is hard to determine sssomeone'sss sssex under those masksss." Another round of silent nods. "Good. I'm glad you sssee it my way."

Text Colour: The Devil reaffirms how important it is to stick together and not try to stab one another in the back before releasing her psychic grip on the group. "Any quessstionsss...?"

"I'm still not sold on these aliases." The Hermit pipes up. "What about if we each chose a colour."

"Trussst me, that'sss a terrible idea."

Description: A group of highly androgynous boring humans, clearly.

Items/Abilities: Lots, but strictly on a need to know basis

Biography: They were all in place, waiting for the Express Train from Persephone when suddenly each and every one of them went inexplicably missing.