Earth-UNKNOWN

(A definitive list of Killers/Survivors of BHVR's Dead by Daylight, and their corresponding Villains/Heroes.)

Heroes:

Dwight Fairfield - Mirror (This universe equivalent to Dagger)

Claudette Morrel - Photon

Meg Thomas - Spitfire

Jake Park - Wild Child

Nea Karlsson - Shadowcat, A.K.A. Kitty Pryde

David King - The Punisher

Feng Min - Jubilee

Ace Visconti - Gambit

Kate Denson - Dazzler

Adam Francis - Spiderman

Jeff Johansen - Thor

Jane Romero - She-Hulk

Yui Kimura - Psylocke

Zarina Kassir - Red Scarab

Felix Richter - Star-Lord

Élodie Rakoto - Storm

Yun-Jin Lee - Emma Frost (Known as Madame Frost as her alias in Earth-UNKNOWN) - Is also the producer for Seol Hee; A.K.A. Luna Snow

Mikaela Reid - Enchantress

Jonah Vasquez - Cypher

Haddie Kaur - Detective Fantôme

Vittorio Toscano - Dr. Strange

Thalita Lyra - The Invisible Woman

Renato Lyra - Sunspot

Gabriel Soma - Adam Warlock - "Sarah" in Gabriel's lore is actually an acronym for the Earth-UNKNOWN' Mantis, Project 'S.A.R.A.H. (Space /Aeronautics Reconnaissance And Healthcare).

Sable Ward - Magik

Taurie Cain - Wolfsbane (Known as Taurie Cain-Sinclair in this verse)

Villains:

Evan MacMillan (The Trapper) - King Pin

Philip Ojomo (The Wraith) - Night Crawler

Max Thompson (The Hillbilly) - Gorr the God-Killer

Sally Smithson (The Nurse) - Blink

Lisa Sherwood (The Hag) - Clea

Herman Carter (The Doctor) - The High Evolutionary

Anna (The Huntress) - Sabretooth

Kenneth Chase (The Clown) - Hobgoblin

Rin Yamaoka (The Spirit) - Elektra

The Legion (Collectively) - Moon Knight (Bloodmoon Variant) - See Cosmetic Interpretation post for elaboration until full backstory is written.

Adiris (The Plague) - Contagion

Kazan Yamaoka (The Oni) - Silver Samurai

Caleb Quinn (The Deathslinger) - Cable (From Past to Present Variant)

Talbot Grimes (The Blight) - Dr. Doom

Charlotte Deshayes (The Twin{s}) - Reaper

Ji-Woon Hak (The Trickster) - Loki Laufeyson

Carmina Mora (The Artist) - Harpy

The Dredge - Knull

Tarhos Kovács (The Knight) - Dormammu

Adiana Imai (The Skull Merchant) - The Iron Maiden

HUX-A7-13 (The Singularity) - Ultron

The Unknown - Mephistopheles

Portia Maye (The Houndmaster) - Madame Masque

Daniel Johnson A.K.A. Jed Olson (The Ghost Face) - Smoke (This universe equivalent to Cloak)

Ever since he was a child, Renato had trouble fitting in, and was always considered... different. For a time, it was only his personality and behavior that set him apart from the other children. With his lack of spatial awareness, and his silent observation of the world, he was an awkward child, often the target of persecution. One day, however, he had even more reason to keep to himself.

While flying kites with his sister, the teenage boy was ambushed by a group of delinquents from their school; older kids whom he had surpassed in education. Two had held him by his arms while the third kneed him in the stomach, over and over again. Thalita, his sister, tried to intervene to no avail, being shoved to the ground by the boy who assaulted Renato.

The boy couldn't control it, his skin growing hot, hotter, until his skin burst into flames, causing the two bullies to let go of his arms, faces contorting in horror. Renato looked down at his arms, his skin pitch black, radiating with a flaming aura. The primary assailant pointed at the fiery teenager, "Ele é uma aberração!" He's a freak!

Clamoring about as they ran away from the siblings, the boys agreed that the event was too outlandish to try and tell anyone, choosing to stay away from the two and not speak of them again. Renato's blaze disipated as he went to check on his sister, who laughed and hugged her brother, telling him how cool she thought he was after seeing that.

However, this would not be the last time Renato displayed his abilities, secretly honing his skills for a few years with the help of his sister, who had also discovered her own powers in psionic manipulation. They knew not that what they were training for had just found them, and wanted them irradicated.

A woman approaches the kite shop the two now work at, something about her feels... odd. Renato, not wanting to attend to her, whispers to Thalita, "Tenho um mau pressentimento sobre ela, mana." I have a bad feeling about her, sis. Before either of them has time to react, a high-pitched whine fills the air, it's origin being held in the woman's hand, a transmitter.

Suddenly, a fleet of armed drones come rushing towards the cabana; their turrets focused on the sibling, who turn to each other. Renato gives a quick nod before the structure bursts outward from the young man's transformation into his pyrokinetic form, his sister putting up a field of protection around them as the turrets open fire.

The mysterious woman grins underneath her now visible metallic facade, "Hmph, que fofo," Hmph, how cute, raising her hand and snapping once. The turrets stop firing, instead, they begin rotating rapidly, forcing a strong surge of electricity into Thalita's protective shield. Just as the barrier begins to give way, a whistle of a firework darts straight to the woman from behind the siblings, bursting into a flurty of colorful lights as it knocks her down.

Whipping around to see where the assistance came from, both sibblings are greeted by a young woman in a colorful, yellow and pink ensemble, including a cyber-style visor that she rests on the top of her head. Tilting her head with a smile, popping a bubble of gum before lifting her hand in a friendly wave, "Perfect timing, if I do say so, myself!"

The siblings smile, pleasantly surprised at the newfound comrade, just before the mystery figure rises to her feet, grasping her both of her drones. Slowly, she rises off of the ground, shouting down to the three as she flees, "Não pense que venceu. Isso é só o começo." Don't think you've won. This is only the beginning.

Watching as the woman flies off into the horizon, the three attempt to exchange words, only... there was a bit of a language barrier. Just before they all begin to grow frustrated, a fashionable woman approaches them, another young lady at her side. Putting a hand on the colorful pyrokinetic, she raises her other, index finger pointing in reprimand. "Ah, ah, jajeungnaeji maseyo don't get testy, Min. Have you forgotten?"

With the pointed finger, she presses it lightly to her temple, a blue glimmer emanating from the woman's fingertip, extending to the Lyras. Their minds felt clear, settled, and with a flash, Thalita begins to speak. "Hey, how did-" Renato's eyes widen at his sister's words. "Sis, you're speaking English!" he gasps, amazed at the ability to communicate in a language other than the only they had known without having to learn.

"World-class telepath, Lee Yun-Jin at your service," the woman's voice sultry as she speaks. "But most refer to me as 'Madame Frost.'" Gesturing to the other two, they both wave as she introduces them, "This is my client, Seol Hee." The young woman, with eyes of different colors and split black and white hair, steps forward.

"You may know me better as-" Interrupting in excitement, Thalita perks up, "Luna Snow! I listen to your music while we kite-fly!" The two giggle to each other before Madame Frost clears her throat, a brow raised in slight annoyance. They both apologize quietly, the eldest starting to continue, before also being interrupted, but by the bubbly, neon young woman.

She hears the soft cries of her friend, following the sound to the corner of a staircase. Mikaela's gaze falls upon the spellbook in Sable's hands; this had been the first trial they had both been in since she had taken it from the Lich's library, and it was time to put their plan into action. Following the other down to where the invocation would take place, she seats herself across from a chalk-drawn sigil, the two exchanging words before speaking aloud the incantation.

सिस्तेर ओफ लिघ्त्, अन्द सिस्तेर ओफ दर्क्नेस्स् Sister of light, and sister of darkness बोउन्द तोगेथेर ब्य तिएस उन्क्नोव्न् Bound together by ties unknown वे कल्ल उपोन थे एन्तित्य्'स पोवेर् We call upon the Entity's power टो एस्कपे हेर क्रुएल क्लुत्चेस् To escape her cruel clutches वे कल्ल तो बे रेलेअसेद्, We call to be released सो मोते इत बे! So mote it be!

The weight of disappointment falls upon the two as it seems their ritual had failed. As Sable rises, the ground begins to shake, tendrils bursting out of the ground, piercing through her friend. Her screams fill Mikaela with dread, her closest companion in immense pain at the talons of the Entity.

Sable's eyes darken to a pitch black sheen, the cries stopping as she transforms, donning horns, talons, and a flaming sword manifesting in the now demonic woman's hand. The clairvoyant raises her hands in defense, the figure freezing in front of her, a green aura emanating from her hands to the demon.

Eyes widening at the newly-acquired power, she laughs heartily, leaning into the aura, pushing the demonic visage, who proves to be formidable as it roars angily at the young woman. Mikaela takes several labored steps until her lips are inches away from the other's ear, shouting over the roar of magic surging around them. Sable! Don't give up, her footing starts to slip, but she clings to hope that she can reach her friend. You can control it!

As the word leaves her lips, the demon breaks free, it's talons wrapping around Mikaela's arm, the roaring subsiding. Had she reached her, or had her words fallen upon deaf ears? An answer comes in the form of an embrace, the demon holding her close, their surroundings changing. Where there was once darkness, a disheveled wooden-walled basement, there is now a beautiful open field, not an inch of fog in sight.

Elated, she had not noticed that the demon had let her go, and she jumps up and down, the overwhelming feeling of relief causing tears to well up in her eyes. We made it! She turns, embracing the other once more, I can't believe it wo-Whoa! Her gaze falls upon the other, whose form had returned, except for a pair of wicked horns atop her head.

The two laugh and reminisce about their escape, laying side-by-side in the field to relax for a moment, Sable turning to pose a question to her friend. I still don't know how you were able to bring me back. Mikaela opens the palm of her hand, the emerald aura flittering about her fingers. Hm, maybe we broke the code, she chuckles, flopping mellow-dramatically in the grass. Or maybe it was my beauty which Enchanted the beast.

Her breathing is labored, her heart audibly beating rapidly, injured as she and her companion descend the stairs behind the main corridor. Sable turns as she runs, Mikaela following closely behind. The police department shifted every time the Entity commanded it's twisted game to commence, but she could always find it; the sigil tucked deep within the eldritch basement of the trial grounds.

Finally making it to the forsaken room, she peers around the dilapidated planks of wood, making sure they had not been followed... or intercepted. No matter which out of the few assailants were chosen, they gradually changed. Their strategy more agonizing, as their options for prey were low; where there were four, there are now only three, other survivors having gone missing one-by-one, so it would seem.

Sable, muffling her pain through sheer will, takes her place at the sigil, Mikaela sitting across, hands placed gently in her lap, palms towards the sky. The white-haired young woman places a book, a spell-book she had stolen from the dreadful tower of the Lich, in the center of the circle, open to a page baring symbols that held hope for the two arcane practitioners.

Her side throbs in pain, causing the other to voice her concern, Hey, are you sure you're up for this? Sable tilts her head up to the other, a sarcastic smile across her face, It's this, or being butchered on repeat. I think I'm up for it. She assumes the same pose as her friend, their eyes locking, her smile slowly falling from her face. A nod of affirmation between the two, and they began chanting in an ancient language.

सिस्तेर ओफ लिघ्त्, अन्द सिस्तेर ओफ दर्क्नेस्स् Sister of light, and sister of darkness बोउन्द तोगेथेर ब्य तिएस उन्क्नोव्न् Bound together by ties unknown वे कल्ल उपोन थे एन्तित्य्'स पोवेर् We call upon the Entity's power टो एस्कपे हेर क्रुएल क्लुत्चेस् To escape her cruel clutches वे कल्ल तो बे रेलेअसेद्, We call to be released सो मोते इत बे! So mote it be!

Upon shouting the last phrase, the two pause, no apparent change having taken place. A sigh leaves the wounded woman's mouth as she starts to get up from her seated position. However, just as she is raising to her feet, the floor begins to rumble, the sigil glowing an ominous golden hue as the book rises from the floor, pages fluttering rapidly. Suddenly, a black tendril shoots up from the floor and into Sable's chest, shock preventing her from moving until more spring from the concrete under the sigil.

The screams of the young woman echoes through the corridors of the police department as the tendrils sink into her flesh, penetrating her very being, her soul being transformed by the Entity's power. The last thing sees being a green haze emit from Mikaela's hands as her vision fades to black.

Sable blinks, only seeing herself in a pitch black darkness, the tendrils nowhere to be seen. Mikaela! She calls out, her voice reverberating as if she were in a cave, Mikaela, are you here? A huff of disappointment as she begins to think the invocation failed, her thoughts being drowned out by a low rumbling. A figure, merely twenty or so meters in front of her, emitting a black, smoky aura, only, it's... her!

She approaches the doppelganger, stopping as it whips it's head up. Hollow, onyx oculi stare back at the woman as it changes shape, a deep, cruel laughter leaving it's mouth. Frozen, sable can't help but watch in horror as the demon closes in on her, her one thought being of Mikaela, and the failure to rescue her from this realm. Raising a taloned hand, the creature stops, a green light reflecting in it's eyes from behind the woman.

A familiar voice echoes Sable! Don't give up, you can control it! Summoning every ounce of will she can muster, Sable places her hands at her side, her features harshening as she shouts at the demon, a guttural roar of anger pouring out of her. The demon's form begins to dissolve, absorbing into the woman, horns slowly sprouting from her head.

With the last particles being consumed, the blackness fades around her, an open, green field with the wind blowing gently past her. Peace, for the first time in what felt like ages. A peace joyously interrupted by her closest companion, We made it! Mikaela wraps her arms around the other, I can't believe it wo- Whoa!

Born to occultists Vincent and Rachel Cain, Taurie lived a very... interesting life in her younger years. Raised up as a disciple of the Cult of the Black Talon, she embarked on several missions, even as a child. Frequently, her parents would bring her to a fracture, a break from the realm of the living to the one of The Talon, as a form of pilgrimage, The Bleed, they would call it.

One day, a ten-year old Taurie set out with her parents to the accursed grounds, coming across the station of suits the had to wear to protect themselves from the raw, enigmatic energy of the fracture. However, one was missing, so her parents suited up and ventured in, telling Taurie to stay put while they look for the other suit... or the person who took it.

After a few minutes, she began hearing the visceral screams of her mother before rushing in, instincts and adrenaline driving her into the dark aura. She paused for a moment, rage and grief boiling inside her at the sight of her father's lifeless body, eviscerated and ripped to shreds. Her mother's voice echoed again, Taurie, run! the words came from nearby. Dropping to all fours, she ran quicker, almost effortlessly, towards her mother's voice, skidding to a halt upon seeing... it. An amalgamation of sharp tendrils held together by a black mist, hovering over her mother. Her vision sharpened, her nails morphing into claws as tufts of fur sprout all over her skin. Letting out a guttural roar, she darts in the direction of the talons, her newly formed claws digging into the black exo-skeletal skin as she heaves the weight of the being away.

Before she could attack once more, the tendrils slunk into the black mass holding them together before dissipating entirely. The girl knelt down beside her mother; bloody, beaten to a pulp, and barely breathing. Ma! she starts, tears starting to pour from her eyes. Da's... dead. Ah don'- Ah don' know what happened, or-or- Before she could say another word, her mother wearily raised her arm to Taurie's face, stroking the girl's cheek and brushing away the droplets before placing a small pendant it the other's hand. Taurie looked down at the silver charm, the symbol of the Black Talon. T-Taurie, go to Father Sinclair, her mother implored, her last breaths labored. Tell him... it's.... time. Rachel's hand fell from the other's cheek, her eyes agape and lifeless as the life fades from her body. Taurie, fully understanding the mortality, wept, her cries echoing from the Bleed.

Years later, Taurie still took on missions, now as the adopted daughter of the Talon's leader, Father Mortis Sinclair. She was marked by the elders of the Cult, once fearing her abilities, with two brandings: The Mark of the Entity in between her shoulder blades, and a "W" for wolf on her neck. One symbol bore honor as an acolyte of the Talon, the other, shame for being "cursed" with lycanthropy. Upon her twenty-first birthday, she was given a task, one that would ascend her from the rank of acolyte: Track down the man who had threatened to expose the group for their history of human sacrifices, torture, and mutilation, bring him to the Talon's Sanctum, and spill his blood as an appeasement to the Entity.

Though difficult for most, Taurie found and abducted him with ease... then came the difficult part: killing the man. Dressed in ceremonial garb while the man was fashioned to a chair at the center of the unholy chamber, Taurie convenes with the Father. Well, lass, He starts, his voice gravelly and deep, Today is the day that become a priestess of the Talon. a day that I have been yearning for for a long time. He kisses her forehead as she transforms, her lupine form replacing that of a petite young woman, a smile plastered on the man's face. May the Talon guide you.

The acolyte slowly approached the sacrifice, her clawed hands at her side. She had devoted herself to the Talon ever since she could remember; going on missions, the pilgrimage, studying the occult and the various beliefs of other cultures to blend and recruit... But she had never taken a life unless she felt hers was in danger. Reluctance filled her mind as she stepped forward, her footing giving way as a spark-framed portal opens beneath her. The last thing she saw before cascading through were the worried faces of the elders, her adopted father raising from his seat as the portal closed above her.

Landing on her feet, she whipped her head up to observe her surroundings before a female voice echoed through the pitch black, Are you sure she's one? Before she could speak, a masculine voice followed in suit, Of course, as you are too, Miss Kimura. Taurie turned to the direction of the dialogue, backing away while doing so, her voice shaky. Y-ya've interrupted tha T-Talon's affairs. R-Reveal yerselves.

Continued from Part One

Gripping the ropes, the alchemist pulls desperately, a roaring scream leaving his chest, Please! I will serve! Upon the words leaving his lips, his flesh tears, revealing black reflective chitin. The pain causes him to wail loudly, the structure shaking around the two as his body transforms. Yes... Good...

The whispers fuel his rage as he pulls his arms towards the workbench, You are almost there, Talbot... Grab the serum and test your work!... The arcane energy rips, releasing the man from his bonds as he grips the syringe. He rushes the elder with great speed before suddenly a dome forms around the sorcerer, blocking his attack.

I have already said... the Ancient One starts, pushing the dome with all of his strength against the frenzied man. I cannot allow you to use that! The elder looks in horror as Talbot's face grows a terrible grin, his free hand pressing against the sorcerous shield. Perhaps it is not I who will use it, the man's palm opens, a sharp protrusion growing from the chitin. But we will.

Before the elder can react, the talon bursts through his defense without struggle, piercing his chest as talbot's arm crashes down, plunging the serum into the observer's neck. Talbot kicks teh man's stomach, forcing his body away as he yanks the weapon out. Wha-what have you done?!

He frantically grasps at his neck, the skin around the entry point forming a blistered growth, filling with a luminescent pus. And now... WE are the observers of his suffering. The growths sprout over his flesh, tearing the fabric of his garments. With the only sound he can muster being his raspy voice, the withering man screams, abruptly being cut short as the pockets of flesh burst.

Well done... Talbot Grimes... The eldritch voices echo in his mind, his anger subsiding to relief, as he observes his new chitin flesh. You will notice you now have practically indestructible armour... The black fog he had seen when he was brought to this realm returns, a wall of the mist separating into an opening into another unfamiliar scene.

Part One

Talbot feels the vines squeezing his limbs, threatening to break at any moment, despair nearly consuming him, when suddenly, a voice shout from behind him Duàn diào, huā de zhī gàn! The vines slither off of him, leaving only the heads of the flowers they bore. Taking a loose piece of cloth, the weathered man erratically gathers the flowers, just before the owner of the voice approaches him. You seek knowledge, yes? The man looks up, an older man dressed in the robes of an emperor's councilman standing with an arm extended down to him. Rather than taking the man's hand, he gets up on his own, clutching the bundle close to his side. I do. He slowly backs away from the elder, But how do you know of what I seek? The other slowly lowers his hand, his voice low and calm. I am not going to harm you, Talbot. Turning away, he continues, a flick of his wrist causing sparks to burst in front of him, forming into a portal. You would be wise to follow. Looking around then back to the portal, the alchemist darts past the man and into the opening.

Calmly passing the threshold, the stranger moves his hand down, closing the passage behind them. The surroundings have changed drastically from a burning wasteland to a familiar chapel where Talbot had conducted his research on the Pustula Flowers and their serum. Now that we are more secluded, allow me to introduce myself. While most prefer to call me The Ancient one, my title in this realm is-

A shrouded whisper of multiple voices penetrate Talbot's mind, The Observer... The bane of our existence... The man's eyes dart around, searching for the origin of the voices as the elder prattles on. Do not waste your energy, alchemist... he focuses his eyes on the elder, pretending to listen to the story of his past, the whispers continuing in the one-sided conversation. He does not seek to aid you, my child... This sorcerer merely wishes to gain your trust... before destroying your work.

Talbot's body tenses, his thoughts conversing back to the unknown entity, Not after all that I have put into this. Not after the illusions that plagued my mind. And who, dear child, do you find responsible for these... illusions... The man grits his teeth behind his lips, noticeable to the Ancient One. What ails you, Xiansheng Grimes? Slowly moving towards his worktable, he spots one of his syringes, filled with Pustula serum.

Before he can step any further, something grips his wrist, holding him back. A whip it appears, made of arcane energy, leading to the tips of the elder's fingers. I cannot allow you to use the serum, or I will have to subdue you by whatever means necessary. The alchemist drops the bundle of flowers, using his free hand to try reaching for the syringe, before another restraint attaches to that wrist as well. You could use some assistance... The whispering calls to him, Allow my power to course through you... For as long as you are willing to serve me...

Medic's Log, Stardate -184398.44, Mantis: Proxima Centauri C's vessel, DV4RK42139, has just landed on Dvarka. Oxygen: 22.86%; Gravity: Proxima Centauri C -1.63 Atmosphere is stable and habitable. The HUX-A7 Units are performing at 78.49% capacity, excluding unit-

Mantis, hurry up! We need to get a move on! A voice calls from the ship, which unfortunately had a... less-than-perfect landing. A young engineer, Gabriel, grins as he motions for her to follow, holding his helmet at his side as he turns away. This is the mission her entire life has been dedicated to, and only she, out of the entire crew knew the truths of their origin. While the others thought they were the original person, Mantis was highly aware of the fact that they were merely clones. Though, her case was different; having been a product of Huxlee Industries' Project S.A.R.A.H. (Space /Aeronautics Reconnaissance And Healthcare), she was fabricated from the memories of a fictional character, an insectoid, alien woman who followed a group of outlaws turned heroes and helped them through their journeys. She was also gifted with similar abilities, such as Telepathy, Empathic Connections, and one that would serve useful in helping their colonists with resources: control over plant life. Knowing her purpose and her origin, she gladly follows the young engineer, the four other members of their crew following in suit.

The young woman looks around in wonderment as they traversed through the deepwoods, the flora was lush and abundant, the fauna, though mysterious, flittering about around the crew. One of the other members turns to her, Sa-Er, Mantis... I need you to come with me. The overgrowth needs to be studied. Michael's tone was short, indicative of his thoughts on the woman. Though most of the crew accepted and even befriended her, he was less willing to trust an... inhuman being. Reluctantly, she follows the grizzled man away from the others and towards one of the smaller observation vessels. Michael assumed the controls, leaving Mantis to sit in the passenger's seat. As he inserts the key card into the controls, the vehicle lurches forward, teetering over the edge of a ravine. Trying desperately to open the door to no avail, the empath turns to the other, a gun in his hand pointed her direction. "Get back!" She flings her body back against the seat as he fires, shattering the window beside her, before issuing one last command, Mantis, you need to jump and get back to the others. Leaping out, she looks back, the weight of the vehicle toppling over the edge of the cliff before letting out a cry... but it was already too late.

The sun starts to set as Mantis makes her way to the main vessel, nothing but silence as she approaches. Her antennae flick up straight, a foreboding feeling weighing on her before the sound of metallic clangs reverberate from the ship. Looking towards the sound's origin, she finds a pool of fresh blood, trailing up one of the ramps towards the med-bay. She slowly follows the blood trail, her heart racing inside her chest; though she had these innate abilities, she doubts that she could possibly defend herself against whatever this threat was. Turning the corner, her stomach drops, her face turning white at the scene laid out before her: a rogue HUX-A7, holding the skull of one of the crewmates, covered in viscera. Frozen in fear, Mantis whimpers as the unit turns directly towards her, a glowing red light shining down on her from the machines head. The Hux rushes at her before suddenly freezing in place, a masculine voice echoing from behind the young woman, Pardon the intrusion, but I believe we will be going now. Before she can say anything else, the strange man waves his arm, a spark-lined portal opening underneath the two.

The sparks dissipate from around the pair as the scenery suddenly changes. A large window with moonlight pouring through the glass, illuminating glass cases full of mystical items, trinkets, and two other figures. Closing her eyes for a moment, she can sense that they are all filled with good intentions, but she begs the question, Where are we? The man chuckles as he guides the empath towards the other two figures, Earth, signora; London to be more precise. Mantis halts for a moment, her mind full of wonder and intrigue, But earth was destroyed almost half of a century ago! How is that possible? One of the figures approaches her, a young Japanese woman with a strong psionic energy, before speaking. You are from the future. The one who brought you here, she gestures towards the man, as he bows slightly. The one called Strange, is able to traverse time and space, looking for beings like the three of us.

Like, what led David to become the Punisher ? How did Felix become Star Lord ? Why is Knight DORMAMMU and Hillbilly GORR ???

Something else I was wondering : what about Vigo ? And Benedict Baker ?

Some of the stories are ones I'll build on more once I get to them, but I do have general backstory/ideas for such on each one!

For David: His backstory as punisher delves more into his sexuality, and bigotry-related trauma. Due to a hate crime that leads to the death of his friend/love interest, it hardens his heart towards criminals, specifically ones who base their crimes on prejudices. He takes up the moniker of "Punisher," dropping off the grid and focusing primarily on melee combat to subdue, even sometimes kill, his enemies. However, he does take up marksmanship when his vigilantism gets him more involved with taking out mobs/mafia cells.

For Felix: He and Élodie's backstories entwine due to their families being a part of the same secret society of The Imperiatti, exploring ruins and excavation sites. Both find relics at different points in time; Élodie's ancient and divine in origin, Felix's of an extra-terrestrial origin. However, Felix found his while he was a teenager, Élodie as a young adult. The one Felix finds is actually a beacon that had crashed on earth decades prior, and upon interacting with the device, it becomes active, alerting a band of space pirates scoping out the galaxy for treasures/bounties. I'll elaborate more in his story, but he is more engineer/architecturally-knowledged, being able to build/repair ships and sell them in the intergalactic market. *For Élodie, hers is a statuette of the goddess Ọya, and upon finding it, is bestowed the power over the weather, becoming the Earth-UNKNOWN's 'Storm.'*

For Tarhos: This one, I was a little more adventurous with his backstory. I wanted him to still be tied to Vittorio due to their canon lore for Dead by Daylight, but I don't feel like he would be as big of a villain as Dr. Doom, who I assigned as Talbot/Blight. In his backstory, after Vittorio disappears into the fog where he's trained in magic by the Ancient one, Tarhos finds Vittorio's scrawlings and notes on the symbols after searching for years. Upon finding them, he recklessly tries to put them to practice, causing the deaths of the members of his pack, but also learning he can summon their souls from beyond. As a newly-powered necromantic berserker, he creates a break in dimensions, practically forcing himself into the Entity's domain in search for Vittorio. *I should also note that his halloween cosmetic also inspired me, due to his head making him look similar to Dormammu in the comics.*

For Max/Hillbilly: With this one, I had an interesting time trying to string together a villain that fit this character. In his canon lore, he was shut away since birth due to his deformity; due to the setting in which he was raised, I could very well see his parents also weaving religion into his isolation, making him resentful towards the god he was berated into believing in. His one obsession is his name, since the only thing he is referred to by his family and any company they bring is 'Boy.' After killing his parents, he still doesn't know his name, but he knows he wants nothing that ties him to the people who practically imprisoned him his entire life. Looking down at all of the bodies before him, all the blood and gore, he dubs himself 'Gorr.' The Entity still finds him, and through his rage, it manipulates him, convincing him that the ones who would try to stop it's expansion hates him, just like his family. It further convinces him by even giving him an axe with it's eldritch energy embedded in it.

Excellent question! For the time being, yes, I will only be writing Earth-UNKNOWN verses for the original characters of Dead by Daylight. However, I am including DbD's Ghost Face in this verse, since, while his costume is trademarked, the character of Danny Johnson is an original creation of BHVR/Dead by Daylight.

Yui Kimura grew up in Hida, Japan, where she was raised by her mother, father, and grandmother. From a young age, Yui was always interested in motorcycles, much to her father's dismay, and longed to follow in her grandfather's footsteps, even wearing his lucky hachimaki around her arm every day. Though she couldn't quite explain it, she had a strange, yet overwhelming feeling of empathy, being able to feel the emotions of each person she came across. Her grandmother would tell her it was a gift, and she should be grateful for being able to empathize with others in all walks of life.

Despite having the rebellious nature against her father to get involved in moto-racing, she did take up the tradition of kendo-training, being top of her class for years. Upon her 16th birthday, her father confronted her regarding her future... and a proposition for an arranged marriage. Enraged, Yui and her father got into an argument, which resulted in him casting her out from the family. Before departing, she met with her grandmother, who led her to an old garage, her grandfather's motorcycle inside. It still ran, after all these years, and she gifted it Yui, as well as a fair sum of money for her to go and live a life of her own. A tearful goodbye, little did she know it would be the last time she spoke to her grandmother.

After competing in several races and making a name for herself, Yui gained the following of other female motorcyclists, who banded together, dubbing themselves the Sakura Seven. Years passed, and trials kept presenting themselves to her; including a stalker, a burglar, and confrontation with the Yakuza. Fearing what may happen to her new-found friends, Yui met with the leader of Okinawa sect. Upon explaining her backstory, and the formation of the Sakura Seven, she noticed a change in the hardened man's demeanor, willfully setting aside their difference and granting her and her gang asylum while in Okinawa.

Rejoicing, Yui continued on to her next race, one that would elevate herself, the Seven to an even higher status, as well as a several-thousand-dollar prize. Taking her place at the starting line, she hears a voice calling out to her... Only, it wasn't coming from the crowd, it was within her own mind; a man's voice, though hard to make out, sounded worried. She brushed it off as pre-race jitters before taking off on the road, winding down every turn with ease, until a thick mist formed in front of her. Suddenly, the sounds of other motorcycles and cheering faded, and a faint red glow shown in the distance; a set of three eyes and a growl emitting from the direction of the oculi.

Before she can even begin to comprehend the events unfolding, orange sparks flutter off of the ground before her, before forming a large, dark opening, the sparks sputtering from the threshold, closing behind her as she ventures through. The man's voice from earlier calls out from the pitch black, Well, Miss Kimura, the voice grows closer, features now becoming visible. Destiny has brought you here, and you have a grand journey ahead of you.

The figure that stands before her, though she had never met him, has a familiar aura. Mi Dispiace- Apologies for the suddenness of this meeting, he extends his hand to hers in greeting. Vittorio Toscano, though, most people of this time know me as Dr. Strange. I am the Sorcerer Supreme of this universe, and I have seen a future filled with endless torture, and you would have become a part of it had you gone further into the fog.

His brows furrow as he walks her over to a cushioned chair, a display case adjacent from where she now sits. This may be a lot to take in, but this realm is slowly being consumed by an ancient entity, using the fog to transport people, places, and eras in time into its realm. I have journeyed into her clutches, escaping only by the powers bestowed upon myself as the protector of this timeline. The sorcerer glides to the display case, igniting the candles above with the wave of his hand, revealing an ancient blade within the container.

Upon seeing the katana, Yui's heart begins to race, a slew of voices echoing in her mind as she clutches her head. Extending her opposite hand towards the case, the glass shatters as the hilt of the sword flies directly into her grasp, images of bloodshed, anger, and grief flooding her psyche as she loses consciousness. In her unconscious state, Yui learns the history of the blade, each of the victims speaking to her, one by one in rapid succession, ending with a young woman, only a year or so younger than she.

Rin Yamaoka, the last of the Yamaoka bloodline, killed by her own father, who wielded the very blade the racer held in her hands. Suddenly her eyes shoot open, Strange standing close by as she takes in her surroundings. Ah, you're awake once more, he hands her a warm mug full of a clear, tan liquid. Oolong. It is your favorite yes? She nods silently before sitting up slowly, noticing a light weight on her back, the sword, placed gently in it's sheath.

Tell me, young lady, what did you learn in your journey with the souls inside the blade? The man's voice echoes, but his lips do not move. Intrigued, but understanding, Yui looks down at her reflection in the tea, taking a deep breath before divulging what she had learned; the Yamaoka family, the aura within the weapon, all linked to her. The only question that remained in her mind; Why me?

Once again, the sorcerer communicates, only using his thoughts, reaching her mind. I'm sure you have noticed you are not just an empath, but can understand thoughts of others and communicate telepathically. Vittorio rapidly moves his hands, an incantation of sorts, before projecting an image of several orbs into the air in front of them. This is the multiverse; several universes that have co-existed without connection ever since the beginning of time itself. Tendrils pour into one of the spheres, a fog slowly emitting from them. Unfortunately, this entity has started engulfing parts of our universe, and in doing so, With another wave of his hand, a golden thread expands to each orb, forming a web-like pattern. It has connected each of our worlds together in an attempt to consume each one until it is the only thing left.

The projection fades into a series of figures, each one emitting auras of different abilities. A chaotic crimson aura of magical origin, a green, mischievous aura of divine origin; several images fading from one to another, until settling upon a... familiar figure, brimming with psionic energy. Is that- The sorcerer interrupts, a soft grin placed upon his lips, You, yes... But also not. The image fades into nothingness as he places his hand upon Yui's shoulder. Each universe has pre-destined individuals that inherit powers, skills, and abilities that, for better or for worse, keep that world in balance. The young woman's eyes meet the other's, a feeling of hope filling her core. You, miss Kimura, are one of them. Of us. You... are Psylocke.

(Part Two)

Giving an exhausted sigh, the Ancient One elaborates. The fog, the thing that brought you here, it goes by many names. He turns to a small vase and pours it's contents, light brown, yet still transparent, in color. Handing it to the scholar, his words flow from his mouth; The Talon, The Fog, whichever moniker suits one's fancy... but the most transparent of titles is the Entity.

The elder lightly traces the now healed scrawlings on Vittorio's chest. These... symbols are runes; emblems bequeathed with the magic of the Vishanti. He grabs a large, maroon cloak, placing it lightly upon the younger's shoulders, his voice drowing darker, more solemn with every word. The Vishanti are the... protectors, so to speak, of our realm. They have noticed the individuals, groups, even entire civilizations being swept away from the realm by this Entity's fog.

Vittorio ties the clasp of the cloak just above his collarbone, inquisitive of this man and his stories. Why are you telling me all of this? Who am I to these Vishanti? The observer chortles lightly. You, wèizhī, were picked by our protectors to be the fabled "Sorceror Supreme" of our Earth. His wrinkled features form a soft grin, an airy chuckle leaving his lungs. And you will be the one to gather our comrades across the universe and stop the Entity from consuming more for it's sadistic games.

Shoutout to @dead-by-mending, I wanted to make a post about it because I have a ton of ideas for Earth-UNKNOWN, including inspiration from one of the Legion's cosmetics, Chimeric Horde.

In this verse, Talbot Grimes is the Earth-UNKNOWN variant of Dr. Doom; still conducting his experiments, but under the influence of the Entity, and her corruption over his mind. This would drive him to perfect the Blighted Serum for the sake of universal domination by his own version of a super-soldier. One such experiment(s) are the teens of Ormond; making them into one being, akin to the Chimeric Horde, but less eldritch in nature. For The Legion, I had the idea of making them a corrupt/entity driven version of Moon Knight, with Frank being the host body, and Julie, Susie, and Joey being alters due to their bodies fusing into one. As well as being the avatar of the Blood Moon, foregoing any sort of attachment to Khonshu and other Egyptian deities.

(Part One)

The scholar feels the wind against his face as his body plummets through the pitch black column of fog. After all of the torture, dispair, everything that Tarhos had put him through, his mind told him to give up. No. I will not be shut down by a tyrant in a suit of armour! His eyes jut open, the fall subsiding as he lands slowly on solid ground.

Dirt. His bare feet scrunch into the terrain, relief filling his being as he observes his surroundings. A village, very similar to his own, but decrepit and eroded, a faint teal hue of an off-colored moon shining upon the ruins of what appeared to be a once flourishing community. Hearing a soft rustle from one of the dilapidated homes, Vittorio makes his way to the origin of the noise.

Once inside, he comes across a huddled mass, wrapped in a tattered cloak. Scusa, signore, can you tell me where- before he can finish the statement, the mass darts towards him, knocking him to the ground as the breath is forced out of his lungs. Without uttering a word, the figure pulls out a metallic device, shoving it into the lord's chest in a swift motion.

Letting out a scream, the man refuses to let himself become a part of the rot that dwells here. Digging his fingernails into the soft wood, he begins to carve symbols, nigh-archaic in origin, hoping something would keep him alive. The cloaked figure places one of it's feet upon Vittorio's arm, preventing him from finishing the writing. The pain, his weakness, his exhaustion; all are his only thoughts as he loses consciousness.

The feeling of cold water running lightly over his chest causes the scholar's eyes to open slowly, his body relaxed for the first time in what felt like centuries. As his vision clears, his gaze focuses on the figure above him. That figure! before he can act, a soft, yet raspy voice pours from under the hood of the cloak. Be not afraid, Xiānshēng Toscano.

The scholar tenses, only turning from the elder to look at his torso, now covered in fresh scrawlings of an ancient language, akin to the symbols he was scribbling inside the ruins. Wait... Are you- His eyes widen, the realization coming to him as the man finishes his statement. The Observer, yes. However, to all who have past through here, I have also been called The Ancient One.

Sliding a hand under Vittorio's back, the Observer sits him up, making sure he is steady enough. Forgive me for the sudden ambush, but I had to mark you with the symbols that drive it away from us. As he steadies himself, the younger raises a brow at the vagueness of the other's statement, It? What do you mean by that?