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<|description|>Azerus Age: 19 Power: Energy ManipulationAzerus can manipulate natural energies, of himself, nature or his foe. At low levels it burns like white flames, traveling through and empowering parts of his body. Higher vibrations cause erratic energy that arcs and can be thrown around like lightning. Stilling or absorbing high levels of energy cause a freezing effect. Basically he can power up his physical attacks with fire lightning and ice. That's using his own energy and the energy around him. Lightning can arc and be thrown. It also speeds him up. White flames can ignite things, burn those that's touch him and gives him a boost to str. Cold is slower acting and moving, he can bolster his defence or freeze things he touches. Lastly Azerus can draw energy from a foe (usually unexpecting) it leaves them feeling lethargic and tired. Weak even. It takes a while to suck out someone's energy and Aspeth favours to do it prior to battle secretively or by drawing out the fight knowing the longer it goes the weaker they will slowly get. Appearance: Color and location of symbol: White with black outline, left ribs on his side Quotes:"Life is black and white, there is the powerful with right to rule and the weak bound to follow" "Those that fear the dark haven't seen what the light can do." Bio:Azerus was born into a dark guild. Both his parents esteemed members. Before his birth Azerus was held to high expectation, which he had lived up too. Having been a prodigy at the age of seven they began weaponising him earlier then any other. He had both a lavish and strict upbringing. Expenses were never of any concern yet he hadn't the luxury to indulge in his own thoughts or concerns. He was told exactly what to do, when and how to do it. His young body forced to endure long hours of training and punishment and despite exceeding most others, his efforts were always met with cold disappointment. He was but a child when he started working. A cold upbringing creating a cold wizard. Personality:Malicious and spiteful Azerus is extremely arrogant believing himself fit to rule. He is ambitious and power hungry only to be out done by his father. His arrogance and cocky nature often get him into trouble but his sharp wit and ruthless ferocity see him out of it. Reason for joining: The dark guild was eventually shut down and Azerus parents imprisoned for their misdeeds leaving the child all alone. Azerus who still wanted to grow stronger and prove himself sought out the toughest guild by name. Fairytail.</s> <|message|>Moeasha After staring at the board for quite a while, Moeasha finally decided on the mission 'Find Lost Father'. She took the paper down and stuffed it into her cloak pocket. Smiling, Moeasha made her way over to the bar for a quick drink and bite to eat before heading out on her mission. She asked the kindly woman behind the bar for a soup and large glass of strawberry lemonade. Moesha spun around in her chair, waiting for her order, watching the people move about the guild hall.</s> <|message|>Charles Lockwell Charles would come walking into the guild, his chain wrapped around his arm, and a bag in his hand. coming from a job, he yawns stretching "...tired..." he would look around seeing his other guild mates going about their business. he wondered if he should bother speaking to them, then changes his mind and yawns again.</s> <|message|>Azerus With silent purposeful strides Azerus made his way to the vacant seat besides Moeasha. With a throat clearing cough he bumps against her as he takes his seat. "Moeshy, Moeshy..." he says softly whilst shaking his head looking down at the table. He raises a hand and held between his fingers is the job ticket he slipped from her cloak pocket. In an instant it goes up in a flash of white flames. "You really gotta start aiming bigger, like this one." he says as he lays out a new job card before her. It wasn't on the board earlier so Azerus must have snatched it as soon as it was put up. The reward was nearly four times that of what Moeasha's previous job was, but Azerus wasn't in it for the money. It was a monster hunting job, the beast was terrorising a nearby fishing town... And there it was, Moeasha's powers would be useful at a seaside location. Azerus just stared at her patiently, his empty daring eyes examining hers, a self-serving charming grin painted on his lips.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha watched as her mission went up in smoke, frowning. "Hey!" she said indignantly, but then paused to examine the mission Azerus had placed down. She had heard the rumors others of the guild often whispered about Azerus, but she had yet to personally converse with him. The mission was a hefty sum more than her last one, and Moeasha was still going to trust that her horoscope was correct! Smiling, Moeasha nodded. "Thank you! This job is perfect for me. But I will split money with you, yes?" Just then Moeasha's drink and food were placed down and she thanked the bartender and dug in, enjoying the warm soup and refreshing strawberry lemonade.</s> <|message|>Azerus "Whatever." he says dismissively as he waves away the thought of money. "You can help with the investigation, search and what ever troubles that come along the way, but the beast, the big ol monster, what ever it is, it is mine! Ok?" Azerus speaks matter-of-factly, his finger assertively tapping down heavily on the paper. Before Moeasha can reply Azerus stands. "You have one hour to eat and get ready, we leave then after. Oh and please know I will not tolerate lateness so I advise that you don't test my patience." Then with a very polite, proper and gentlemanly bow Azerus gives her a warm smile and walks away but not before saying one last thing. "Welcome to the team."</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha shrugged, she was fine letting Azerus kill the monster, if that meant she got the money. Moeasha quickly finished up her meal, left her tip on the bar top, and headed to refill her water skein, then she stood outside the guild hall. She knew she was early, but Azerus did say he didn't want her to be tardy, so Moeasha figured she would play it safe. Everything she owned was on her person, anyway.</s> <|message|>Azerus The clopping of hooves approached the guild at a mere five minutes prior the set rendezvous time. Azerus reaches down a helping hand to Moeasha from atop a brilliant white lean stallion. He seemed unimpressed with the fine horse. "You don't mind riding through the night?" he asks. As always his questions didn't seem much like questions at all. "We have quite the distance to cover."</s> <|message|>Moeasha "A horse!" Moeasha exclaimed in awe. She grinned and responded, "That is fine! Though I will eventually need rest. So I may work at my best!" Moeasha giggled as she realized she had rhymed. The human language is so fun!, she thought to herself. As they rode along, Moeasha watched the sights pass by, grinning happily. This was her first horseback ride since coming to Fiore. But she quickly sobered while thinking of the coming mission. She needed to be serious and assist in any way she could!</s> <|message|>Azerus They ran wildly and freely through the brisk cool air of the falling night. After darkness began to set Azerus held out his hand in front of them and a swirling ball of white flame appeared in his palm giving them a guiding light and a small wisp of warmth. They made it to the small fishing town a few hours before midnight. The horses energy was surprisingly faultless, it appeared it could carry on even further. Azerus on the other hand was suspiciously showing signs of fatigue. He dismounted and offered a helping hand. His gentlemanly nature showing once again. The town had a simple yet quaint humble beauty. The moon glistened against the nearby gently crashing waves serenading the cobble streets with its song. It was quiet and dark, Azerus didn't see or hear the commotion of a fierce monster battle that he had been hoping for. "Ok, you are up. Find me my monster." His disappointment quickly growing into an eager excitement.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Moeasha thanked Azerus as he helped her down. She felt the fading warmth of the cobblestones beneath her bare feet as they still held stubbornly to the heat of the days sun. She breathed in deep, feeling the ocean in the air. "Such a pretty town," Moeasha breathed out. "Why would a monster target it?" She looked to Azerus, "Perhaps we should find an inn for the night. Not many people will be awake at this hour, I think. Plus we've been riding since morning. You look like a rest would do you good, and I also would like to sleep."</s> <|message|>Azerus "I could wake them!" A very serious and mischievous gleam took over Azerus's face. He held up a small bright sparking ball of flame. The light highlighted the unnatural bags beneath his eyes and it was evident he strained to control his wavering magic. As a bead of sweat ran down his forehead he succumb. "Alright, we will do it your way. You deal with the people in the morning and find out what you can. This way." Azerus spotted the nearest tavern and led them to it. As they walked towards it his eyes meticulously scanned the passing buildings, the towns silence was beginning make him feel nervous. "I think I saw some stables near the east entry, head on in and get a room, I will be back shortly." With that he hands her a small pouch of coins and climbs back onto his horse to trot away down the dark street.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Moeasha could understand now why so many of the guild's members were wary of Azerus, but she could also tell he was powerful and able to hold his own. Taking the coins, she made her way inside to procure a room. The innkeep was asleep on his counter, so Moeasha lightly poked him. The innkeep startled awake, shouting. Apologizing to him, Moeasha asked for two rooms and quickly was paying for it and being shooed away. Taking the keys, she waited by the door for Azerus to return so she could tell him his room number.</s> <|message|>Azerus A man soon approached Moeasha, but it wasn't Azerus. A large burly fisherman brandishing a heavy club like it infused him with authority staggered up to her and spoke with the clear heavy scent of whiskey on his breath. "What'cha think ya doing here lassie?" he aggressively questioned. "I think ya one of tha's wizards com to cause us trouble again!" He uses his size to lean over her as he intimidatingly stares her in the eyes.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha wrinkled her nose at the stench of alcohol, but smiled up at the man in a placating way. "Hello sir. I am just waiting for my....friend...to return. Then we will be sleeping and hopefully tomorrow we can rid your town of the dangerous monster!" Moeasha discreetly placed her hand over the top of her water skein, ready to pop it off if the man raised his club against her. But Moeasha was trusting, so she wasn't going to immediately act defensive.</s> <|message|>Azerus The man recoiled as he let out a deep bellowful chuckle. "Arghhh ha, you puny li'l girl can't get rid of our sea monster!" He chuckles some more before his face grows red and angry. " AND WE DONT WANT IT GONE ANYWAY!" He practically spits whiskey on her as he shouts. Calming himself he sways a little as he continues his speech. "Look, I don't know who keeps hiring you wizards but your worst then da monster. Dun worry bout waiting for ya friend, my buddies will look after him good, jus get you pretty little self out of mah town." He bats the club on his palm as he lets out a deep burp. "well sugar?"</s> <|message|>Moeasha Moeasha glares at the man, her usually calm blue eyes turning harsh. "What do you mean, you do not want rid of it?" Moeasha pops the cap of her pouch off, beginning to grab control of the water inside. "And your 'buddies' plan on doing what to my friend?" Moeasha lashes out, her water arching through the air, slicing a small cut into the man's hand. It isn't enough to seriously injure, but the shock of it caused his club to fall. Moeasha quickly kicked the club away, then formed her water into the shape of a dagger, pointing it at the man's nose.</s> <|message|>Azerus her sudden moves left him speechless and dumbfounded. Wide-eyed he stood in shock, gasping as he frantically tried to figure out what was going on. "Damn all you wizards!" He eventually managed to spit the words out as he fearfully backed away. "Wizards are why it's here and the on'y reason it keeps comin back! Ever since your kin showed up ere it's been giving us trouble... He spits on the floor and slowly backs away. "Just Don't go making it angry with any flashy light ok!" ..."please"</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha made her water flow back inside her pouch, watching the man sadly. "I assure, we only wish to make it leave. Flashing lights? I will keep note. Now, where are your friends who you said will harm mine?" Moeasha moves forward, not wanting the man to leave if he has information she could use. She knows Azerus could keep his own, but the townsfolk here seem more afraid than dangerous. She doesn't want Azerus to make the situation worse!</s>
<|message|>Azerus It was right then that a sudden explosive crack of lighting burst a splintering hole in the wall behind the burly man. Azerus voice could be heard trailing on the wind traveling through the new window. He shouted threats and with each escalation of his voice, a wave of light longed the damaged makeshift window. Clearly he hadn't got the same memo, Or had he... The sailor had fallen to the floor, his face white with fear. "oh no, oh no, oh no!" he sobs as he scampers down the stairs. Next a bell echoes out loudly and the cobblestone paths are almost instantly filled with commotion as people almost magically appear and all flee in the same direction. Azerus distant threats fade amongst the noise. The bell continues to chime out, people continue to rush to safety, something stirs in the distant water.</s>
<|description|>Lady Lili Aria Adelin Age: 17 Kingdom and Position: Noble of Freyea Sexuality: Bisexual, prefers women Pro Separation Likes - Social gatherings - Tournaments and similar displays of bravery - Theatrical tragedy and opera - Epic literature Dislikes: - Cowards - Shy people - Being ordered around Personality Lili is a girl with two distinct personas: One that she shows to the kingdom at large and one she keeps between herself and her most trusted friends. In public, Lili is a flawlessly trained diplomat and social butterfly, mixing easily with people from all nations and walks of life. She uses her voice both to charm new acquaintances and to command the attention of entire rooms through the power of song. The only inconsistency in her "perfect" demeanor lies in her love of luring others into making conversational faux pas, or revealing their secrets. In private, however, Lili could easily be mistaken for a military recruit. She spends much of her free time studying military history and strategy, or practicing with longsword and bow. She resents being unable to hone her martial prowess more openly, but channels her frustration into training rather than challenging the status quo. History: Lili was born into a minor noble family, flush with gold but poor in influence. Both her father, Duke Giraud Adelin, and her mother, Duchess Jacqueline Adelin, were relentless in their pursuit of a better position within Freyea's nobility. To this end, they groomed Lili for court life from the moment of her birth, the day of which saw truly legendary festivities funded by the proud parents. While she was provided with the best upbringing money could buy, Lili was more interested in tales of knights and heroism than those of courtly romance. She made a habit of slipping away from her governess to play at combat with the servant children on an almost daily basis. Her parents discouraged such behavior with punishments of ever-increasing severity, but it did little to dissuade the strong-willed young lady. As soon as she turned 12, Lili's parents sent her to live in the royal palace as a handmaiden, where she mastered the arts of socialization. She never gave up her more martially inclined pursuits, however, often disguising herself as a boy to attend swordplay lessons and watching the castle's many knights at every opportunity. About a week after her 15th birthday, Lili's parents were both taken by fever, passing dukedom to her uncle Alphonse until Lili found a suitable husband. Extra: Theme Music</s> <|message|>Prince Liam Hanway It was hot in the little room that always held the smaller meetings. Liam wishes that they would have gone with the big meeting room even if it will only be the Kings, Queens, children, and trusted people of the kingdom. Only a few from each kingdom could come that weren't in the royal family. The big meeting room can at least hold a breeze. Liam wipes over his forehead and turns away from the glare his mother shoots him. They're all just starting to settle in and Izzy seems to be more restless then ever. "Isabella, please sit still," their mother hisses while the king clears his throat. "Thank you all for coming today, as we know this is very important. We have a lot of problems arising in our kingdom as I'm sure there are with yours. We believe that the marrying will help with some of the problems, but we do need to discuss plans of how to stop these people who are trying to take over. It's a while of boring talk before it seems to quiet down. "Sam, would you mind taking the kids out of the room. We have some more... pressing matters to discuss," the queen asks in her nicest voice. "Of course, miss," Sam moves from her spot against the wall and motions to Liam and Isabella. "Let's go out in to the courtyard, get some fresh air. And if all of the other royal families would like to come also that would be great. Liam knows they will be discussing wedding plans along with fighting, but it's obviously not something they want all of the younger crowd to hear. Liam gets up slowly and waits for Isabella, checking the rest of the crowd that is with them. They all seem... well, no, one seems very sick, but the rest seem normal enough. He slows down when they get to the courtyard and smiles tightly. "Are you alright?" he asks the boy who seems to not be well, he's just hoping he isn't misreading things and this guy is perfectly fine. "So what were they going to talk about that we couldn't know?" Isabella asks loudly and Sam rolls her eyes before she can stop herself. "I mean you're all old enough to get married so what was there that we couldn't know?"</s> <|message|>Aspen Cedar Lyons Haughty and prideful were very good words to describe the boy with the dark curls and the jagged jawline, he moved as if he owned everything in his path. He moved as if he could take what he didn't own and claim it before he could be challenged, he moved with grace and he moved with the eloquent precision of a true leader. He moved like a jaded king and he moved like he deserved more than just leadership, he moved like he was ready to prove that. He was beautiful in his pride, sharp brown eyes and a curve to his lips that wasn't quite friendly, he had a calculative quality that made him appear as frozen as ice during the entirety of the speech before he realized that they were being ushered out. It registered to him slowly and he didn't look like he much cared for the statement but he didn't open his mouth to question it as he strolled into the courtyard with Aspen by his side like a trusty guard dog. He didn't open his mouth when he saw the other prince stop to inquire about the sickly looking young man and he barely blinked when the sunlight outside registered with his brain. He did speak then, though it was a soft undertone to the knight standing at his side like a parental figure and his words were clear and precise. The kind of words that could cut through silence, the kind of voice that made people cringe to face it in a wrath. Though now it seemed somewhat calm, collected and very, very detached. It was almost frightening whenever he spoke and it nearly startled his companion but composure remained in Aspen's expression. "I should be allowed in there, shouldn't I?" he asked quietly, his voice sounded insistent as if he had an expected answer and Aspen knew the drill. Though just because he knew it, didn't mean he'd go through with it. "Why, of course, my lord. You're a darling at social gatherings." a quicksilver smile and dancing blue eyes. "There will be epics written to your kindness and stride to all who approach you, my dear Marion. How could anyone not love your company?" "You're being sarcastic and I despise it." Marion blinked and sighed, a brilliant smile overcoming his face and seeming to wash away the storm clouds gathering in his eyes. "But, I suppose I should lighten up, shouldn't I? I'm surrounded in nobility, even if I have your pathetic shadow over me until Mother or Father finds a better task for you and I sure hope that's soon. I could make a friend, I could discover a love of nature, the world is in my hands today, Aspen." "And what a lucky world it is, my lord." hummed the knight sarcastically. "Are you suggesting I leave you be to socialize? Because if you're suggesting I leave then I'd have to decline, watching you fail to make connections is my favorite side hobby." "I'm not going to fail, I'm going to charm them. I'm quite good at that." "Ah yes and I am the next heir to the throne, your entire life was a ruse, my lord."</s> <|message|>Crix Oxeum F. Atrox A few days ago, before coming to Freyea, Crix had already heard that among the discussions of war and alliances, matrimonial talks were going to be part of their visit. Oh, of course, the curious prince had already researched about who he was paired up with. Quite so fittingly, he was set to be wed off to a lass whose name was Princess Moran. She had enticing traits and an appearance that led men to think with their other hands but the prince predicted that beneath her smiles and rumours, she was an entirely different person. Everyone had a mask they wore, anyway; everyone had a mask to show others, a mask to show their family and a mask that they never want anyone to see. This third mask is the reflection of the truest identity of the person involved. However, his situation behind, Crix was more worried for his sister, Erin. They had never really talked much but just because he didn't socialize with his own kind doesn't mean that he doesn't care for them. On the contrary, Erin was probably the closest sibling he could ever hope to agree with. So, when the royal entourage was already stationed outside of the castle of Paplia, Crix took the opportunity to talk to his sister. As the lad hobbled on a walking cane, the youngest brother met up with his sister. Before speaking, however, Crix made sure that no one was watching or near. "So, you're being married off to this prince Marion. I've done my research on him and the results didn't come as good as I had expected. He's as proud as a llama spitting at a hunter." Crix began, his voice was intermittently cut by arid coughs. "What I mean to say is... if he ever puts a dent on your face or any part of your body for that matter, tell me. And, I'll castrate him brutally until he can't walk for a year." Once more, Crix began to cough voraciously, only abating by inhaling a large amount of air. "I know we don't talk much but... you're still my sister and I.. uh..." the lad hesitated, knowing that it was out of character for him to do so. "I care for you just the same." Crix smiled genuinely, a rare occurrence, before turning his back on her. "That'll be the last time you hear that from me, Erin. Don't get used to it." ---- He had expected the room to be a bit more... gracious. They were more packed than a can of sardines (speciality of the invention of Paplia, thank you) but, perhaps, there was a deeper meaning to this. However, as the grown-ups began discussing the pressing matters, it couldn't be helped but to usher the younger generation out. Crix was nonchalantly disappointed, though. He believed that he was more than mature let alone smart enough to contribute to the discussion, which made it a point to believe that he was ushered out so that the royal families would be spared from his incessant coughing. Still, as he escaped from the hall, his illness got the better of him, his lips opening in silent agony as his coughs were becoming more brutal as time passed by. Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of him, apparently asking the state of his health. "Ah, prince Liam. Worry not about me." Crix straightened himself on his cane. "I'm fine." Crix forced a smile before wiping his lips with a small cloth. Well, he couldn't escape now. "Your kingdom is wonderful but a bigger meeting room would have been splendid." the prince muttered amidst some small hacks and gurgles. His eyes darted over to the prince just a few feet away from them... it was prince Marion. Crix's eyes dilated in annoyance at the older prince's appearance; he practically oozed arrogance with the way he strode and walked. Heck, Crix didn't even need to do research if he had seen Marion at an earlier period of time. Due to this seething disappointment at the man who his sister was suppose to marry, Crix couldn't help but click his tongue. However, he wasn't here to fight or bicker with his counterparts. He needed to establish some sort of... alliance with them. His gaze turned over to prince Liam, his counterpart host, and smiled gently. "Our parents, huh? Marrying us off to the other princes and princesses without our approval. But, then again, they never needed our approval." Crix chuckled lightly, a slight cough escaping his lips. "Who did you get as your lucky bride?" the sickly prince turned to his host.</s> <|message|>Prince Nicholas Moran Nicholas had been sitting in between his sister and parents during the preceding of the meeting. If he was honest with himself, Nicholas really didn't want to be here. But because he was not one to neglect his responsibilities he came with no fuss. He had been aware of the growing tension and impending threat to his kingdom, and was glad that they were meeting here to discuss. Nicholas looked around the room and saw the other princes and princesses, he knew most of them by name but his sister had actually made more of an effort to be friends. He did not quite get how to handle his impending marriage; he had never met the girl before and did not know much about her, and the only thing his sister had said was that she was a good person, that helped him a lot. He walked outside close to his sister, not wanting to bump into any one. Once in the court yard he looked at her. "Do you see her? I'd like to know what she looks like." He looked around and saw some familiar faces, but didn't know who to talk to. He always thought that it was easier to deal with animals than other people. Animals never had any malicious intent, and if they did ant to kill you, an animal would let you know. While humans are a mess of emotion and underlying lies and truths, it is to much, he likes things plane and simple and on the table. Now he had to deal with politics and marriages, what fun.</s>
<|message|>Lady Lili Aria Adelin Lili watched from a balcony as everyone filed out into the courtyard. She'd planned on being fashionably late to the meeting, but it seemed that the royal children were relocating, and so her lateness now afforded her a chance to look over the familiar and not-so-familiar faces. There was Prince Liam, of course, the person she'd seen the most during her days at court. Next to him was... Crux? No, Crix. Prince of Paplia, if she remembered correctly. She'd never quite gotten to speak to him, despite having been to Paplia's capital thrice. Then there was... him. Nicholas Moran, her betrothed from this day on. He was the only one that Lili had never seen in person, only knowing his face from a portrait. She looked him over curiously, taking in his movements and expressions. Well... he's not bad to look at. I was worried the portrait might have been designed to flatter, but... No, the only difference was in his face. The Nicholas in the portrait looked much like every other royal who'd been sitting in one place for hours, but out here he seems far gentler, almost nervous. He's certainly looking around as if there were a wolf among the crowd. She shrugged, and headed for the stairs to join the group. No sense making them wait.</s>
<|description|>Antaeus Race: Earth Genasi Age: 16 Gender: Male Appearance: Theme: Go the Distance Level: 0 Proficiency: +1 Health: 4 Stats: Strength - 16 (+3) Dexterity - 14 (+2) Constitution - 17 (+3) Intelligence - 8 (-1) Wisdom - 10 (+0) Charisma - 8 (-1) Proficient Skills: Athletics (+4), Survival (+1) Proficient Tools: None Traits: Alignment - Neutral Good Size - Medium (6 feet tall/182.88 cm, 200 lbs/90.7 kg) Speed - 30 feet (6 squares) Languages - Common, Primordial, Dwarven, Undercommon Earth Walk - Racial Ability. Move across difficult terrain made of earth or stone without expending extra movement. Merge with Stone - Racial Ability. Acts as the Pass without Trace spell once per long rest with no required material components. Constitution is the ability for this spell. "Each creature you choose has a +10 to Stealth checks and can't be tracked except by magical means. This effect only applies if a creature is within 30 feet of you, both at the time of casting and for the duration. You can choose yourself as well. A creature that receives this bonus leaves behind no traces of its passage." Deep Miner - Background Ability. You are used to navigating the deep places of the earth. You never get lost in caves or mines if you have either seen an accurate map of them or have been through them before. Furthermore, you are able to scrounge fresh water and food for yourself and as many as five other people each day if you are in a mine or natural caves. Abilities: None Inventory: A shovel and a miner's pick, a block and tackle, a climber's kit, a set of common clothes, and a belt pouch containing 5 gp. Background: Genasi seem, at first glance, to be virtually normal humans save for their coloration and perhaps a few features more closely tying them to their element, such as literally flaming hair or gem encrusted skin. A genasi can be born when one or both of their mortal parents are exposed to surges of elemental energy from planar phenomena, but far more commonly they are the result of mixed heritage between some variety of genie and a mortal humanoid, usually regular humans. Some genasi are born of mortal-genie unions, some have two genasi as parents, and a rare few have a genie further up their family tree, manifesting traits that have lain dormant for generations. Perhaps on first impression, Antaeus could be seen as a normal, deeply tanned, tall and broad shouldered boy--but his skin has a slightly hard texture to the touch, as if his muscles exist in a constant state of tension or his bones are made from wrought iron, and that bronze tone to his skin remains no matter how long he spends in the mines and away from the sun. In direct light, one sometimes even catches the glint from his skin and hair as if it were well oiled, but he is perfectly dry. When he was born to Frontier Town settlers, Antaeus's parents were shocked at his appearance. For the first few years of his life, Antaeus's father treated the boy somewhat coldly--the family never went without, and his parents seemed to care for one another tremendously, but his father never could shake the suspicion that his mother had been unfaithful. If he ever pressed about it, she would only venture suspicions that there must have been a genie in their ancestry, or that his work in the Black Mines might have exposed him to some source of earthen magics. He couldn't stand it. That possibility he was raising another man--or possibly another being's--child. This wasn't helped by the fact that their second child, Antaeus's little sister, was completely human. It also did not help that Antaeus soon grew taller, and broader of shoulder, than his father. Here, what had been a seemingly masculine indifference--hugs and kisses were from mother, food and shelter and discipline were from father--now became evident as disdain. Strangely enough, his father even seemed to have forgiven his mother--if there ever was anything to forgive--but now projected what was left of those feelings onto Antaeus, as well as favoring the girl child. At first, Antaeus didn't resent his sister for this, and only slowly began to grow embittered towards his father...but, all children learn their behavior from their parents. When his sister began to look down her nose at him from atop his father's shoulders, he could no longer stand being in the same household. He had grown old enough to work in the mines like his father, but here once more his strange blood surpassed his progenitor's, so he soon began delving into the deeper caves and tunnels. Despite his difficulties with his family, Antaeus got along well with everyone else, and was generally known and well-liked as an energetic, friendly, and upstanding young man. He picked at rock and polished ore and pushed carts up winding ramps, whether night or day--whatever shift his father was on, he asked for the opposite. Whatever days his father was given off, he asked to work overtime. Only rarely did they see each other, and usually at meal times when it was easy to ignore the person at the opposite end of the table. His mother tried to smooth the issue, but at this point it had become a self-perpetuating cycle. Antaeus's avoidance was taken for disrespect, his work seen as an attempt to show his father up at the man's own career, his lack of confrontation as cowardice and aversion to authority. The more Antaeus tried to escape his father's eye, the angrier that glare became. And yet it was not so simple. More than once Antaeus wondered why the man didn't just leave, back then when he had been born. Why had he stayed? Why had he bothered to raise Antaeus and teach him--in whatever fashion one could say he had--and why had he gone soft on Antaeus's mother, when it would have been her fault had any infidelity truly taken place? And if his father had poisoned his sister against him, why were there still moments when she treated him kindly--why did she still run to his bed when she had nightmares, why did she still ask him to play with her and then become sad when he had to work? And his mother, she had never truly done anything wrong to him, but...why hadn't she stood up more? Why hadn't she defended him more staunchly? Did his family hate him? Were they simply fulfilling their duty towards him, rather than kicking him out? Maybe it was him. Maybe he needed to do something, change something, about himself. Maybe...maybe if he became someone, someone great, a real hero...</s> <|message|>Ethan Bradford Cypher Ethan abruptly sat on the dirt road in silence, sans the sounds of his heavy breathing. He dared not move an inch from his position, out of shock as well as the exhaustion he suddenly felt. Sweat poured down his face in streams instead of droplets, his throat had the rusty taste of blood, and his eyes were glazed. He clutched his left ear, hurt from the sudden screech of the now dead blood hawk, and checked if his eardrum had ruptured from the sudden assault of noise. "N-no blood...all good. Yimir's Fething Axe...that was too close. An inch more to the left and I'd be done in." As if to reassure himself he stops clutching his ear and checks his face and neck for any injuries. For what he knew, the adrenaline rush would have dulled his sense of pain and exhaustion. He lets out a relieved sigh as there were no traces of any injury before shaking his head side to side. "How in the nine hells did a simple pick up become a fight for my life...Maker above." Ethan had regained most of his composure when the red archer had approached his position. "Hey you alright? Bloodhawks, nasty little things. Not unusual for them to go after lone travelers, especially around this time. But you don't look like one of the villagers. In fact, you don't even look like you're from the town. Newcomer?" She asked, piercing the still bodies of the hawks. Probably to make sure the little bastards were really dead, he assumed. She was already tying the birds to her spear when Ethan snapped out of his stupor. Looks up to see his savior, a lady archer dressed in red. Ethan stands from his sitting position on the dirt road and does his best to wipe away the grime and sweat from his face. Feeling exhausted was no excuse to be rude to someone, what more his savior. He stands upright as best as he can and tips the slightly sweaty hat atop his crown to greet her. "Thank you miss archer for the rescue, I owe you my life. I'm unharmed, if not just tired from running...and you are correct. I just arrived to Frontier Town a number of hours ago. You are quite perceptive miss archer, furthermore very skilled with a bow." He compliments the young archer in red, noting that striking such small and fast targets like the blood hawks is quite the feat. "Ah...where are my manners. I am Ethan Bradford, formerly a wanderer and currently a courier for the local inn. Pleasure to meet you." No rolls done this turn. Traveler's Clothes x 1 Fancy Hat x 1 Pouch containing 5 gp x 1 Metal Flute x 1 Jeweled Ring (worth 10 gp) x 1 Walking Stick (Quarterstaff) x 1 Poorly wrought maps of homeland x 1 Corrected map x 1</s> <|message|>Darunia Genmaris Darunia A very dry smirk crossed the Drow's face as he could sense the two forms approaching. Of course taking the first step into his journey would not be as easy as... well, taking a step. With the sun beating down on his face, he clenched his teeth and held a hand over his eyes, squinting them to further reduce exposure. The sun always put him in a foul mood. What good was it for aside from growing crops? Civilization has created substitutes for its other purposes, so why have they not made it obsolete yet?! Darunia sighed, shaking his head. "Do you always ask redundant questions of those who come to your city?" He asked. "I am a traveler. I travel. What more is there to it that you wish to know?" Speaking in such a tone was, he knew, not very likely to push any sort of idea of friendliness to the group before him. The sun's overpowering glare made it quite hard for him to try and converse while making eye contact, and while he could put up his hood, he was sure that these two rapscallions were simply looking for a fight. The flap of a hood would be all it would take to send fists flying. At least, that's what most of his experiences taught him. Of course, he knew that they were really after why a Drow was lurking around here in the first place. Quite frankly, he was none too sure himself. Such an answer would not satisfy a guard, if experience had taught him. This was going to be his first chance to make an impression in the city, and, while he couldn't get a solid grasp on the precise ages of the guards, they appeared to be quite young. He considered the most hassle-free way to deal with this scenario... He wasn't too keen on spending his money so soon into his trip, but it seemed like it couldn't be helped. "Perhaps we can make an exchange," Darunia quickly proposed. Fishing out two gold coins and flashing them to the guards, he forced a smile. "I need to get someplace to stay for at least the next morning. Should one of you escort me to the nearest inn, I promise I will make it worth your time." He was not a charmer by any stretch of the word, but he was left with no choice. Begging and sniveling not to be assaulted by these young guards... A flicker of anger flared up in Darunia. He would have to let this pass. Just this once. Darunia pulls out two GP to both hopefully defuse the situation, and to gain some guidance as to where he would be able to stay. Making a Persuasion Check: 1d20+Charisma Mod(3) Result:4 (hoo boy)</s>
<|message|>Antaeus 𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘 Salt Lake >> White Stag's Trail --- Antaeus's head snapped in the direction of the deer call. He immediately took in the disturbed underbrush, the white hair, and once more those high tree scrapes. But that call was some distance away. If he went slow to stay hidden, the White Stag would just get further and further away--and the more time there would be for some beast to happen upon him unawares. But if he just crashed on through the brush, not only might some predator hear him, but the White Stag too might detect his pursuer... No. It's already either chasing something or running from it--if anything, I might be able to catch it as it grows tired. With the trail so clear before him there was no need to worry about losing the tracks. Turning his javelin point-down in one hand--so that he wouldn't spear himself if he fell--the boy took a deep breath and set off at a sprint. Even as he pushed against the ground the earth supported him, and he still left no sign of his passage. Whether that would remain true in the forest, however, had yet to be seen. Going as fast as he was able, Antaeus pursued his quarry. Antaeus has the Earth Walk ability - Move across difficult terrain made of earth or stone without expending extra movement. Not sure if this applies. If Possible I'd like to have Antaeus move at the Fast rate of Travel or Dash or whatever. I think the travel pace has a -5 Perception Penalty, don't know if that counts passively? Antaeus performs an Athletics Check 1d20 + (4) Proficiency + STR Result: 7 1 Quest Book - 5 lb 1 Shovel - 5 lb 1 Miner's Pick - 5 lb 1 Block and Tackle Set - 5 lb --Pulleys --Cable --Hook 1 Climber's Kit - 12 lb --Pitons --Boot tips --Gloves --Harness 1 Set of Clothes, Common - 3 lb --Roughspun Tunic --Roughspun Pants --Ragged Boots 1 Belt Pouch - 0 GP 1 Hunting Trap - 12 lb 1 Backpack - 5 lb - Holds 30 lb 1 Waterskin - 5 lb (full) - holds 4 pints 1 Tinderbox - 1 lb 1 Hempen Rope - 10 lb - 50 ft 2 Javelins - 2 lb Each 6 Darts - .25 lb Each Total Encumberance: 71.5/240 lb (Light) +Bookie has agreed to write a letter to Captain Ork at the Garrison. I should kill an animal in the forest and take it to Captain Ork to prove I'm adventuring material. --The animal can be anything from the Forest. Bookie suggested a deer or a boar. +Barthen has requested me to hunt a White Stag in the Forest, and has given me a free hunting trap for this purpose. If I don't succeed I should probably bring the trap back. --I should try to find the Redchaser, she might be able to help me. +Barthen is paying 1 GP per pound of Medicinal Herbs from the forest.</s>
<|description|>Dr. Mathias Johnson Age: 52, but with the physical body equal to a 27 year old, thanks to Institute medical technology Gender: Male Appearance: Home: The Commonwealth, more specifically The Institute. He left after certain events ruined his reputation. His departure involved a lot of gunfire, screaming, and maybe a burning building or two. Skills: Medicine(He was the head of the Institute's medical facilities before his incident) Science(While not as well trained as his medical skills, he's still quite adept at using advanced and pre-war tech) Repair(He's handy to have around tools, and given the proper ones, can fix just about anything.) Survival(His medical knowledge can also come in handy when needing to find edible materials, or when making some. He's still primarily trained with medicines, however) Guns(While not the best sharpshooter, he knows his way around a firearm. Unlike most scientists, he never cared for using energy weapons) Background: Born to two scientists in The Institute, Mathias has always lived around advanced tech. Unlike most children there, however, he also enjoyed escaping out into the wider Commonwealth, visiting places such as Diamond City, and even once taking a trip to the Capital Wasteland. He loved learning about the wasteland and its inhabitants, and seeing the effects the radiation and other pollutants had on them, and all the other life. He learned to appreciate medicine and its uses, while also seeing how medical science can be used to cause pain and suffering. He would become a very established medical doctor of the Institute, developing things like cybernetic limbs, a cure for diseases like Cancer and Aids, and even a treatment to provide temporary immunity to even the most harmful of radiations with a single dose. However, he had a large skeleton hidden in his closet, so to speak. Word got out of secret experiments he performed on captured raiders in hidden complexes deep under the Institute, some even involving captured strains of the Forced Evolutionary Virus, obtained from the Capital Wasteland. This wreaked havoc with his reputation, leading to the Institute violently removing him from the Commonwealth. He began to travel south, first to the Capital Wasteland, and once his reputation reached him there, further south again. Eventually he arrived in the Carolinas, setting up a medical camp in the wastes with what tech he was able to scavenge from the Institute, and the wastes. Equipment: He wears various scraps of semi-protective clothing, such as his brown trench coat. He carries a .45 pistol on his side, a combat survival knife in his boot sheath, and a hunting rifle on his back. The rifle takes standard .308 rounds, but has also been jury-rigged to accept auto-inject stimpaks and Med-X as viable ammo, meant for firing into allies for a quick heal or assist. He also keeps a backpack full of pre-war and Institute-level chem and medicine-producing equipment, but nothing that would be unable to survive a rough journey, a large pouch full of stimpaks, Med-X, and other chems, a smaller pouch filled with around 1500-2000 caps, and another pouch filled with ammo for his two guns. Around his neck, generally hidden from view, is a special glass vial with a yellow-orange liquid inside, which when asked is said to hold "A last-resort experiment." Other: He has a pet dog named "Max", who got his name from one of Mathias' favorite pre-war movie series, where a man wanders a wasteland similar to the current one, only in the movies, the cars actually work. He also has a pre-war quarter he keeps on his person at all times, which he will absentmindedly twirl between his fingers at times.</s> <|message|>Secundus Albus Riding on through the heat of the afternoon, a quartet of haggard individuals passed through South of the Border's northmost gate, a Brahmin wagon covered with a thick cloth tarp rolled into the town's main bazaar. Waiting for the wagon was an empty spot amongst the many stalls-- a spot that always remained empty just for this wagon's triweekly visit. With heavily-practiced ease, the lead Brahmin maneuvered into the empty spot, and promptly sat down. It grunted satisfactorily as a rugged, bearded man emerged from the wagon's cloth exterior, and glanced around. The bearded man reached inside the wagon, and pulled out an old wooden sign, with "LERK JER KY 20 CAPS/ oZ" crudely painted on it. Looking quite satisfied with himself, the bearded man hammered the sign into the ground behind the wagon, and sat down on the wagon's edge. At long last, Hawkeye Joe's Famous Mirelurk Meatwagon had arrived! "Awright," said Hawkeye Joe, peering around the market for potential customers, "you boys g'wan an' find yerselves a way t' pass time. Ain't hard-- whole town's a tourist trap! Jus' tell me if yer gunna stay, I ain't tellin' yer momma you got lost in South!" From the wagon came three more strapping men and a hog. The first two were a pair of good old boys, named Muggsley and Puggface. Muggsley was the altogether more intelligent of the two, and enjoyed farming and hunting Mirelurks. Puggface was the altogether more attractive of the two, and enjoyed hunting Mirelurks and farming. Following them soon after was Albus Secundus, a friendly enough fellow from out West, who enjoyed fixing clothes and hunting Mirelurks. Following him was his pet "wild" sow, Heather. Heather enjoyed eating corn, scrap cloth, and Mirelurk meat. The four of them, together with the bearded fellow out back, formed Hawkeye Joe's Famous Mirelurk Meat Company. Curiously enough, not one of them was named Hawkeye Joe. While Muggsley and Puggface ambled over to the Radiation Roost, a notorious bar for tourists who didn't know the first thing about a decent meal and a strong drink, Albus and Heather stalked further into the sea of market stalls. Albus knew where he was going, and snuck through several alleys to get there. In the welcoming shade of an alley behind Terry's Gunne Shop, Albus patiently knocked upon a cleverly-hidden sheetmetal door. At the sound of his knocking, a grisly-looking doorman peered through at Albus with an appraising glare. Shortly after, that same doorman peeled the door away, and nodded grimly as Albus passed through. A dark, armored man on a stage towards the back of the room, face on one side by a crowd of onlookers, nodded as Albus came in through the doorway. When Albus found a place amongst the crowd, the man spoke up. "I'm glad you all have come here today. As you know, there has been some rumors amongst the wastes of a number of armed and heavily-armored individuals roaming around, killing people. Even stranger, it appears that there is a man--a Vault Dweller--killing some but actively assisting others in their actions. Unless anyone has any issues they'd like to bring up before we start... let the South of the Border Political Forum begin!"</s> <|message|>Samuel Carter, Atomic Knight of Clan Cluecloch "Alright, I'm starting the generator. Stay away from the outlets for a second, merchant, this is going to get loud." Samuel had promised to fix the shop's backup generator for one simple reason: He had an idea for a new weapon and needed fission batteries. The thing is, the shopkeeper's safe was electronically locked, and something was up with the generator he couldn't quite understand. Well, he must have been blind, because the inside had been filthy- like someone had been using it to store food that went moldy since before the War. With all the dirt and rust inside, it was a miracle it hadn't exploded. It had taken several boxes of Abraxo and a toilet brush to do so, but the innards were sparkling as best they could after this long. Reconnecting the wires and returning the switches to their operational state, he lowered his goggles and shut up the generator. With a soft whirr, it came to life, and the lights of the store flickered on. Business concluded, he got the fission batteries and a few parts for his creation- a large metal tube, a motor and belt from a vacuum cleaner, the spherical body of an eyebot, a few yards of copper wire, an aluminum baseball bat, and a throwing spear. "Alright... this should just about cover it." He made his way to the crafting bench where his noble steed Lambray stood guard. One of the finest horses the Knights had bought from the Carolinas, the horse was worthy of his name. He began the process of cobbling the items together.</s> <|message|>Agent Zhang Sitrung of the People's Republic of Hongmin Zhang sat in the armored cart as Guanyin the Brahman pulled down the dirt road. It was a fairly simple construct, two sets of old world wheels taken from a truck, connected with two axels held to the underside of a deep wooden cart with a canopy over it, surrounded with iron plates by some iron fittings and a harness Brahman to pull it. "In time of difficulties, we must not lose sight of our achievements." Zhang quoted from the Glorious Chairman Mao as he fanned himself with his map. Chairman Shen had decided that Zhang would be the chosen one of all the people of the People's Republic of Hongmin to spread the glorious revolution for the good of the people. He reached for his copy of the Little Red Book and resume quoting of the hero of the common people, "Once all struggle is grasped, miracles are possible." As the cart rounded a turn, he leaned back and picked up his gun, an unique version of the venerable Chinese Assault Rifle, the Red Orchestra Concerto. He busied himself by inspecting it as someone pulled up besides him. "'ello son, were ye headin'?" the traveller looked a sif he's been down some rough roads. Not exactly young by any stretch of the imagination. His face was wrinkler than that of Old Fueng and his whiskers were in dire need of a trim. "Hello comrade." Zhang saluted the man as he passed, "I am on my way south to spread the teachings of the revolution and to assist the common people. How are you doing today comrade?" "Just fine if I do say so myself. And what "revolution" are ye tryin' to spread?" the old man took out a bottle of water, revealing a mouth of dirty yellow teeth for a second. "The revolution of the people!" Zhang proclaimed, "The Glorious Communist Revolution that will liberate the proletariat masses!" The man tilted his head and looked at him funny, "Pole lead what?" "Proletariats! The common people, the masses, those workers oppressed by capitalism in this wasteland caused by the endless greed of pre-war capitalist industrialists who look after their own wealth at the expense of the people!" Zhang spent the next hour telling the teachings of Chairman Mao and the glory of the revolution to the old man, listening with a mix of interest and confusion over some of the words Zhang used. He thought "bourgeoisie" was a type of weapon. Their conversation/learning session went on until they arrived in a fork in the road which the old man waved good bye and headed off with a Communist propoganda poster that Zhang had given him from the statch. Zhang himself continued until he reached a town called "South of the Border". It seemed like a good a place to stop as any. Throwing bits of food from his bag to stragners and beggers, he smiled as he saw their faces light up, although his glared at some of the shiftier merchants so much to the point he nearly ran someone over. "Sorry comrade!" Zhang stopped his cart and jumped off and reached a hand to help the person he had knocked down, "Do you need any help?"</s>
<|message|>Dr. Mathias Johnson Dr. Mathias Johnson had been absentmindedly wandering the town called South of the Border with his dog Max, looking for a place to set up his medical station. He noted that far more than a few people were in need of help only he could offer, so he felt this was as good a town as any to get started. He just hoped he'd finally been able to out-run his reputation, seeing as how the last time it caught up with him, three people were shot, and a small shack exploded, he was due for a good day in a town. Suddenly, a large Brahman-drawn cart nearly ran him over, knocking him to the ground with a small thud. Max rushed over to make sure he was okay, and after reassuring the dog he was fine, he looked up to see a man of presumed Chinese descent offering to help him up, saying "Sorry comrade! Do you need any help?". Mathias took the man's hand and hoisted himself up, then brushed the dust off himself, saying "Why, thank you my friend. I appreciate the help." He looked over the man's cart briefly, noting the apparent Communist propaganda stowed aboard it. "Well, based on the contents of your cart, you seem to be out to help more than just me. I take it you were raised in a hold-over communist society lasting from before the Pre-war era?" Mathias reached a hand down to pet Max as he spoke, not taking his eyes off the man in front of him in order to show vivid attention and interest.</s>
<|description|>PFC Michael Roper --- Origin: Half-Life 1 --- Equipment: * Main Weapon: Spas-12 Shotgun | 36 Shells * Secondary Weapon: N/A * Inventory: + 30 ft Rope x 1 + Hand Grenades x 2 + Combat Knife x 1 + Tactical Radio (Short Range) x 1 Powers and Skills:* Ranged weapons training. * Basic CQC training. * Basic survival training. * Basic first aid training. Back Story/Bio: PFC Michael Roper is a soldier in the United States Marine Corps' Hazardous Environment Combat Unit (H.E.C.U). He was one of the first soldiers to be deployed at the Black Mesa Incident, and soon confronted the horrifying aliens that had started to pop up all over the facility. During an intense fire fight, he came face to face with a lanky creature that he hadn't seen before. As he raised his weapon, the creature looked at him and uttered something unintelligible - and then everything went white. And now he's here, in a land where darkness reigns eternal, and where alien invasions are the least of his problems. Starting Location: Orik Farmstead Other Info:</s> <|message|>PFC Michael Roper Character: PFC Michael Roper Location: Orik Farmstead With: No one. --- "This must be some kind of training op," Michael muttered to himself. "Black Mesa... was it just some elaborate test ground of some new weapon?" It was no secret to the boys of the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit that the U.S Government was overseeing some pretty shady projects. In fact, that was the main reason that the HECU existed in the first place. He'd only been in the unit for eighteen months, but in that time he'd seen some pretty trippy sights - though the aliens (imagined?) at Black Mesa certainly proved to be the crescendo of oddities that the Government had thrown his way. Something latched around his ankle, like an iron clamp, and squeezed hard until it hurt. Michael jumped, dropping the touch screen tablet, and looked down just in time to see one of the corpses at his feet close its jaws around his boot. "Gah! What the fuck!?" He screamed, his voice sounding like the guttural cry of a robot gorilla thanks to the voice changer. He tried to kick his foot free of the corpse, but found it impossible. Bringing the shotgun up in a panic, he pointed it at the thing's head and pulled the trigger. The corpse's head disappeared behind the bright muzzle flash, sending an uncountable amount of skull and gloopy brain fragments skittering in all directions. Michael backed away, the corpse's teeth and parts of it mouth still fixed to the end of his boot. "What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?" The second corpse was still inanimate, though it had slumped forwards - obviously as the other one had moved to attack Michael. None of this made sense, but then, nothing in the last twenty four hours of his life made much sense. Was he in some kind of high tech military training facility? Did they dope him with acid? They'd done that before. He tried to recall every moment of his life before he was sent to Black Mesa, looking for a break in its continuity - a moment that would provide a clue as to where he was. And then the door to the living room swung open, crashing against the wall. The rotted frame gave way, and the whole lot tumbled to the floor. Two men stumbled inwards, their clothes torn and tattered, their flesh dry and cracked. White eyes settled on Michael, and they froze as if surprised. Michael raised his shotgun at them. "Stay back! Stay the fuck back!"</s> <|message|>Section Commander Arth Bek Character: Arth Bek Location: Fort Buckmere With: Nobody --- The Boros soldier gazed over the landscape. This didn't look like Ravnica at all. At first Arth had thought he may have been at the top of some tower where nature was allowed to get out of hand, but from his vantage point Arth saw no end to the trees, no other towers, nothing that would indicate he was in a city. Of course, being from a plane of existence that is one massive city and nothing else this confused the soldier greatly. "What in the name of the angels is this?" He muttered as his eyes suddenly locked onto movement. Three large creatures, Arth couldn't see exactly what they were from the tower, were running on all fours towards the fort, and towards Arth. As they came closer he could see features that would mark them as wolves, but clearly larger. One of the beasts ran through the gate and made it's way to the entrance to the tower itself, however Arth was more concerned about the other two, who flung themselves into the tower and started climbing. Rather then attempt to question the savages Arth did the most reasonable thing he could. With a great deal of strength he hefted up the iron brazer and dumped it over the side. A sound of yelps of pain reached Arth's ears as he drew his blade and prepared himself for the third one, who would be coming up from the stairs any moment. Right on cue the third wolf creature sprang up, and Bek without thought brought his blade down upon the beast. The sword cut into the wolf's shoulder, but then got stuck. The creature merely snarled at Arth, who got a good look at the monstrous wolf. It stood on two legs, and was larger then most men, Arth included. The wolf threw one claw out to rake the soldier, and though Arth's armor held up he was still thrown across the tower, and now was separated from his blade, which was still lodged in the monster. Picking himself up Arth clenched his fist as the wolf slowly walked over, snarling with an inhuman glee. That glee left the creature in an instant when Arth threw himself at the beast and punched it squarely in the jaw. A snap of bone was quite evident, and the mark of the Boros Legion was now firmly indented into the beast's flesh. The wolf staggering Arth tackled the creature, pushing it against the crumbling stone. Then a crack was heard, as the stone the beast was being pushed against gave out and the monster fell from the tower to the fort grounds below. Arth looked down at the creature, it didn't look to be moving, though Arth would have to go down and retrieve his sword. Before he had a moment to think anything else however he heard a deep growling coming from behind. Turning Arth could see one of the other two beasts clawing up over the battlements, burnt and tinged fur creating a foul stench. Arth was about to fling himself into the beast before seeing another clawed hand come over the battlements, the other wolf was climbing up as well. While the soldier of Boros was indeed skilled, he did not like the chances of him taking on two foes of such strength at once, so instead Arth fled down the stairs. However before he could go far the rotted wood under him gave out, and the armored warrior fell, crashing through to the floor below, though luckily the wood there was not so quick to give, otherwise the soldier might have kept falling till he hit the ground floor and would have surely been dead or too weak to fight the beasts even now descending the tower. Picking himself up Arth stumbled out of the nearest door to find himself once more on the walls. However he was not allowed even a moment of rest as he caught sight of one of the wolfs running across the grounds below towards him, and Arth could hear the second wolf behind him. Claws with rake through the air, however Arth had already began running, adrenaline pushing him across the walls as he neared the main keep, luckily attached to the walls themselves, a sturdy looking iron door open and waiting. Both the wolves were behind Arth, and they were naturally faster, catching up to the knight. With one final frantic leap the Boros soldier flung himself into the building, before turning and slamming the iron door shut and throwing down the wooden bar than acted as a latch. With a deep sigh the man turned his back to the door, leaned against it, and slowly calmed his breath. The beasts would find some other way in Arth knew, and he would need to find a new weapon. But first he would need his energy.</s> <|message|>Danielle Harriet Mason Character: Danielle Mason Location: the Church of the Creator With: ..... "There's....t-there's something here..." --- That's it! She wasn't staying here any longer to find out! Whatever this...thing...was, she needed to get away from it and quick! This feeling overwhelming her, like sharp claws raking down her back, leaving her in a cold, shivering sweat, how uncomfortable and sickening it felt. Without a moment's notice, Danielle just turned on her heels and raced for the door. She tried to open, but...no.... No! It couldn't be! The door...it was locked...for good. Her hand, in the darkness she felt it grace metallic, rusty chains, something sticky and gross smelling coating them. Was it blood? It felt like it, but as she drew her hand back, she noticed the black, slimy substance. Then...it began to burn her hand like it was acid or some other corrosive substance. "Agh!" She yelped at the searing pain, quickly brushing off this bizarre, burning liquid off onto her jacket, finally resorting to banging her fists on the door frantically and screaming for dear life, "Help! Someone! Anyone, get me out of here! Please help me!" It was getting closer....she could feel it, the hunger it had for her, not for her flesh...but her very soul. "Please! Someone fucking help me!!" But no voice replied from the other side, no force tried to jar the door open to free her from what would soon become her macabre and desolate tomb, her sepulcher of shadows. Death...it was all around her, the putrid scent of rotting flesh and graveyard soil penetrating her nostrils and forcing her to hold her breath. It was happening again. No...not now! Suddenly, the siren started blaring in her ears, that wretched, horrific sound bringing her back to those horrible memories, her mother butchered and brutalized, the walls of burned, bleeding flesh and sinew...and...that creature. And just like before...now the church was shifting into nightmares. The chipped and cracked paint upon the walls peeled away like dead leaves in the bitter cold of autumn, revealing underneath rusted and blood spattered metal. The skies above, their demure shades of depressing grays instantly perverted into hellish reds and oranges, as if heaven was blazing with demonic fire, but that's not all she saw as her terrified eyes looked towards the ceiling. Bodies...hundreds of rotting corpses hanging by their necks from metal hooks, some in such grisly states of decay with bits of flesh dripping off their bones. The church...it was more of a cannibalistic butcher shop, dead bodies and instruments of horrific torture and mutilation everywhere....and it was about to get worse... "T-this isn't real! No! It's not REAL!" Danielle panicked shutting her eyes, falling to her knees trembling. Her nightmares, reality before her very eyes. Then...it revealed itself. The skeletal being upon the cross, its hands and feet ripped away from the nails as it lurched and writhed with skin and muscle tissue growing back over its dry bones, an ear piercing screech of utter agony belting from its mouth full of sharp teeth, eyes, red and menacing, glowing in the deep shadows like the impending fires of Hell. Its twisted wings flourished, producing an icy gust of air that smelled of rigor mortis. Danielle...though she could not bring herself to, she looked upon the creature, it shambling towards her while screaming and flapping its ghastly wings. Then...it attacked!</s>
<|message|>PFC Michael Roper Character: PFC Michael Roper Location: Orik Farmstead With: No one. --- "We hunger for you!" the two men screamed in unison, their voices amplified by an unseen malevolence. They rushed forwards, arms open wide in an offering embrace. Michael had only half a second to react, and he pulled the trigger. A large hole appeared in one of the men, the size of a basket ball, and he was flung against the nearest wall like a rag-doll. The second man came within arms reach of Michael, before the soldier was able to bring his weapon around and squeeze off another thunderous shell. His attacker disappeared from the chest upwards; brittle flakes of dried flesh and bone rained over the room like some kind of doomsday confetti. Before Michael could even take stock of his situation, the first man - the one with the hole in his torso - was back on his feet. He snarled as a dry and swollen tongue licked at cracked, putrid lips. Were it not for his gas mask, the unfiltered smell of decay may have been enough to knock Michael on his ass. "What the fuck are you?" demanded Michael, thrusting forwards with the shotgun in a futile attempt to ward his enemy off. "Is this a training op? VR? DT-19? Please, I can't take any more of this bull shit!" The man smiled broadly, yellow and black teeth poking out from behind his swollen tongue. "We are for you. We are the hunger." The words should have been muffled, but they came through as clear as day. Michael didn't understand the cryptic response; didn't understand how a man - apparently in the late stages of decay - could stand when half a foot of his spine was missing. He pulled the trigger, and his spas-12 combat shotgun reduced the man to a bloodless stump above the waist. There was little time for further thought, as a window to the soldier's right exploded into fragments of wood and glass. A woman crawled through, her dress torn and shredded; she looked up at Michael with the same nightmarish features of the men. "Fuck this, fuck this," Michael decried, half sobbing. He turned his back on the woman, and sprinted out of the door; the darkness of the farmyard embraced him like an old friend.</s>
<|description|>Pax Triston Nickames Bookworm, Bastard, Wimp, etc. No friendly nicknames that's for sure. Age 17 Gender Pax is biologically male. They don't feel male but they don't feel female either. They prefear gender neutral pronouns but will answer to he/him. They also had grown use to male culture roles. How did they get onto the Officer Programme? Pax got in via their noble father making a sizable donation to the academy just to get rid of his illegitimate child Prefered Weapon As the child of a noble Pax was trained in all manner of weapons from a young age. They do not have a preference as they are just about as equally bad at all of them. They can hold their own with a sword as well as a spear, but still tend to lose. It's a good thing they have never had to actually fight for their life. Long range weapons shouldn't even be mentioned. Their aim is dismal. Pax is surprisingly good at hand to hand combat and learned how to fight dirty. They don't advertise that fact. Appearance Details Pax is tall (5"11') and slender (more like gangly) with hair so blond it is almost white and eyes a grey color light enough that people mistake them for having no color. Given the fact that they have pale skin Pax seems almost completely colorless. They tend to dress in clothes that completely hide their slight frame. They don't sleep enough and is plainly evident by the bags under their eyes. Their hands always have some sort of ink stains on their hands. Their hair is in a constant state of disarray and the length depends on how recently their mother had forced them to get a haircut. It ranges from chin length to shoulder length. They have been described as "stereotypically scholarly." They have no tattoos, but their right earlobe is pierced with a small hanging grey pearl with silver accents. This marks them as a member of the Noble Family of Coastal Cliffs of the Kingdom of Rockveil. They have always been interested in makeup but only dares to apply a thin line of kohl eyeliner on their waterline when they dare to wear it. Personality Traits Pax is quiet and non-confrontational. They tend to disappear into the background as they are overshadowed by their more vibrant siblings. They are easily bullied and avoid social interactions as a result. They do their best to appear small then they are by hunching their shoulders in order to disappear into their clothes. They are often passed over by people and that's the way they prefer it. They rarely show any emotion outside of near silence. The only time this is different is when they are in their study or in the library. Pax tends become loud and passionate when talking about their passion for history and languages. When they have found something new to study, they pour themselves into the work and studies; so much so that they tend to forget to eat and sleep. They are the black sheep of their social butterfly family for more than one reason. Biography Pax is the third Child of Lord Markus Triston of the Coastal Cliffs' four children. Pax is also the second male child and the only child not born to Anna, the Lady of Coastal Cliffs. The scandal shook the both the royal court and the estate of Coastal Cliffs. By order of King Peter of the kingdom Rockveil, Markus took the child into his household. To her credit Lady Anna did her best to raise the child as the noble their heritage dictated, they were. However, Pax was living proof of her husband's infidelity. She formed no emotional connection to the child, and in order to regain his wife's affection Lord Markus did not either. Pax was smaller than his older brother, Erick, and that made them an easy target for bullying. It did not help that Pax showed no interesting in swordsmanship, horse riding, hunting, or other traditionally athletic activities connected to males. They showed a similar disinterest to traditional female activities. Pax only ever cared about their studies. Given the fact that the noble of Coastal Cliffs consisted mainly of people interested in the welfare of the estate and the intricates of court Pax is very much an oddity; not only in his family but the entirety of Coastal Cliffs, and Rockveil. Finally, in a desperate attempt to do something with his illegitimate child, Lord Markus sent Pax to Estermere Academy. King Peter has his own reasons for approving this. Misc. Their color code is #6a6a7c Pax has the ability to See things they shouldn't be able to know. Most of the times it is something about the present such as the weather half a continent away or some bit of knowledge about a person that person wishes to keep hidden. Occasionally they see truths about the past such as what has happened in a room they just entered a hundred years ago or who murdered someone. So rare it has only happened once or twice they see the future. It was how they were in the right place to warn of the pirates attack that one summer and the barn fire five winters later. They have no control over this and desperately tries to keep it a secret thought they have a few reasons to think that their mother had a similar gift and that King Peter knows. Coastal Cliffs is the land on the southeastern coast of the kingdom of Rockveil. Its economy is mostly based on fishing and sea-based merchants. They have the traditional charge of keeping Rockveil safe form pirates. It is not the easiest place to land and it is mostly sheer cliffs. Triston Keep is at the center of Marvel, the port city in the one natural harbor that was transformed into a bustling center of trade.</s> <|message|>Avery Harper Avery Harper, wizardly urchin, spent most of her trip to the illustrious Estermere Academy grinning like an idiot. She'd been on it once before, of course, sent up into the mountains on a wagon to try her hand at Estermere's admissions test. But this was a trip that took weeks, with a whole lot of the wider world to behold, so there was still plenty of gawking to do along the way at plants and animals and people she hadn't noticed on the first round-trip. Besides, during that first journey she'd been too worried about the upcoming examination to pay much attention -- and now there were all sorts of new and exciting things to worry about. Anxieties aside, though: wow! Avery could still barely believe the whirlwind of events that had led her onto this path. She had wondered more than once if it was an especially elaborate hallucination, but no, this was the reality of her situation. Avery Harper: tactician. Avery Harper: leader of men. Avery Harper: who used to swipe copper pieces from drunks to buy heels of stale bread. That was magic for you. At times she wondered who she was meant to be becoming an officer for in the first place: certainly not the good city of Rhyl, the goodwill of whose lazy patrol guards she'd worn out long ago. In addition to paying for her carriage, to prepare her for the trip, Avery had been saddled by the mages' guild with probably more books than she could carry -- histories, biographies, tomes of dull literature that seemed a hundred years old but were probably only ninety. She found buried among them one short volume of impressively salacious romance and, of course, her spellbook. It was a comforting presence, although she'd long since figured out most of the nuances of the handful of tricks contained within. If this academy was all it was said to be, there would probably be spells there that'd make hers seem like child's play. Avery wasn't sure whether or not she liked that fact. Either way, all thought of reading went out the window when her carriage reached the mountains. On the first trip to Estermere, Avery had been utterly dumbstruck by them, chattering in disbelief to the less-than-interested wagon driver about the sheer scale of those towering summits. This time she was better-prepared, but still spent most of that leg of the journey transfixed by the sweeping vistas and distant snowcapped peaks. They had a way of making all her fears -- woe is me, what if the rich snobs don't like me? -- seem insignificant in a very comforting way. Estermere Academy, on the other hand, had a way of making Avery feel insignificant in a way far from comforting. It was undeniably beautiful, nestled there in the mountains, but the fortress's very walls seemed to judge her as her carriage passed through their gate. It was as if she was walking right onto some emperor's dais as he gave a speech. You don't belong here! Well, she'd prove those old stones wrong. Somehow. And not a moment too soon, because now she found herself disembarking, fishing in her new coin purse for what seemed like a small fortune but Avery had been informed was standard carriage fare for a trip of this distance. To that she added another silver piece, and in exchange managed to get the driver to agree to unload her belongings and hand them off to the local guards. Then it was off to the great, lavish hall this place considered a dining room, and from there a new and bizarre life. Avery murmured a brief prayer of thanks to whatever bemused gods might be listening as she managed to find the hall without any difficulties, then went hunting for a place to sit among the more wide-eyed of what seemed to be her fellow students.</s> <|message|>Augustus Kampf "I was at the top of my class – naturally," the general's voice brimmed with pride inside the carriage as he recounted the years spent within the walls of the fortress. It was a story that he had told his son on several occasions. Actually, on more occasions during their journey to Estermere than the years before that. But Augustus had to pretend he was as interested as the first few times his father brought up the topic. General Marcellus Kampf didn't need to come with his son on the first day to Estermere. Naturally, he had duties as a lord and as one of the king's general, but he told a rather deflated Augustus that it was an event that the general would not miss for the world. Then Marcellus started telling the unforgettable story of his first day at the academy. Again. Surprisingly, the story started with a carriage ride and Marcellus' father, Augustus' grandfather, giving the young Marcellus pointers on how to excel. Apparently, his family did not tolerate mediocrity. A Kampf must always hold a position of power. There's that. Which was why a small smile tugged at the corners of Augustus' lips when one of the guards at the gate stepped up and told the general that only students were allowed entry. "He's an alumnus, can we not make an exception?" Gus asked, if only for appearance sake. As if he was not too happy to finally experience a taste of freedom in some piece of land which his father's influence could not reach. Marcellus, whose expression, clothing, and poise reeks of nobility stood looking down his nose at the lowly guard. Gus knew that look. It was as a warning, a few moments of calm before the storm. His father was a general. Of course, Lord Kampf was an expert in barking orders and looking down at mere footmen. Gus had to step in. "He's just doing his job. It's alright, I can manage from here." He grabbed a suitcase from his father only to set it on the ground beside himself. The general started to argue, no longer used to being denied, but Augustus reasoned that he would be late if they pushed the argument. A few minutes later, Augustus Kampf was walking the paved walkway of the fortress. Hands in his jeans' pockets and a stupid grin pasted on his face. At last, a chance to live outside his father's shadow. "Excuse me, is it your first day?" Somebody. A girl, his senior, approached. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. He looked to his left then right, then those amber eyes returned to a silent question to the stranger. "Yes, I am talking to you," she giggled, perhaps because of the look of utter confusion on his face. He had barely nodded when she politely pointed the other direction. "That way to the dining hall. Good luck." She waved, smiled, and ran after her group without saying her name or asking for his. He didn't even get to say thank you. But whatever. Gus traced his steps until he was at the top of a grand staircase, walked further following the same direction, following a light stream of individuals, until he found the hall. Rows of dining tables were occupied by people around the same age as he was. He casually took the closest empty seat he could find and relaxed. It was going to be a great year.</s>
<|message|>Pax Triston Pax Triston was not eager to be attending Estermere Academy. It was a military school, and they had no desire to be part of any military. That did not change the fact that they were currently on their way to the academy. They didn't have much of a choice. Their father, Lord Markus Triston of Coastal Cliffs, wanted to send Pax away. Pax couldn't really fault the man for that decision. There was a constant tension in the air while Pax was residing at Triston Keep. Pax gave their head a shake. There was no reason to dwell on the past. They had to keep heading up the mountain. Pax looked up from the book that they had been studying about older languages from across the world to look out the window as the carriage maneuvered pass another turn in the road. They could finally see the Academy. It certainly looked impressive. Pax knew that it was still a fair distance away. It would only grow more impressive as they got closer. Pax turned back towards their book. They had basically stolen the book from Triston Keep. Thankfully, along with the other books on almost forgotten languages, it wouldn't be missed. If they were it would a simple matter to return them. The carriage eventually stopped as a voice called out, "We have arrived Mr. Triston." Pax placed their book back in their personal satchel as they exited the carriage, "Thank you Gabriel." They faintly smiled up at the coachman, "Please be careful on your way home." Gabriel nodded in respect, "I'll be on my way as soon as I'm soon sure your things have been put away properly Mr. Triston." Pax turned to get a better look at Estermere Academy, "Thank you Gabriel." With as close to goodbyes as Pax was going to get with as close to a friend as they had been done they headed into the building. It was easy enough to ask a few of the guards where new students in the officer program were supposed to go. With that information gathered. The new student headed towards the dining hall. There were already students gathering. Absently Pax wonder what the time was. They knew that there was a time every new student was supposed to be here by. They just didn't know when that time was. They didn't think that it was any time soon. There weren't enough students here yet. Pax scanned the room to find a rather empty place in which to sit. Once a suitable spot was located, they made their way there. As they walked, they passed a few people taking to each other as well as others looking to avoid social interactions. There were people from all over the world. Pax was astounded by the sheer number of different type of people. Maybe being here wouldn't be bad. It would certainly be a learning experience. Pax arrived at the place they had pick and sat down with a surprising amount of grace. They pulled out their book to return to their studies. Pax wondered if there were language classes here. That would be another reason this ordeal could be bearable. The truth was, even though Pax knew they didn't really want to be here, this wasn't that bad a place to be. It certainly wasn't ideal, but it did get them away from Coastal Cliffs and it would certainly teach them things they couldn't learn in Rockveil. They might not want to be a part of any military in the future, but it would give them a chance to make future they didn't think they could have if they hadn't been sent here. Pax supposed they could be tentatively optimistic.</s>
<|description|>Emilie Kraus Age: 16 Gender: Female Height: 5"1 Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Hazel Personality: Naive Airhead: Emilie is pretty gullible and falls for every trick in the book. Some could say she was just too trusting of other people. She is also slow on understanding other people's jokes and laughs minutes later after everyone else. Her head is often stuck in the clouds thus making her even more susceptible to pranks and other tomfoolery. Optimistic: She always sees the good in a situation or people. She is a generally cheerful person even if there isn't a real reason to be. It might just be because she is too clueless to understand fully the seriousness of things, but it's not always a bad thing to have a person who is always smiling like an idiot. Animal-Loving: If she sees any kind of animal, regardless of whether it is a puppy to a wild boar, she will want to pet it and become its friend. She loves animals and the feelings for the most part are mutual. While she doesn't hate people who dislike animals, she will spend a lot, a lot of time trying to change their mind by showing how cute they are and such. Strengths and Skills: Nimble fingers: Emilie has dexterous hands though she doesn't really know how to apply them yet. She supposes she can type quickly and thread needles but there should be something more that she can do with it than that. Maybe she could be a pickpocket and do magic tricks too. Tireless: She has a lot of energy. She is usually very hyper and has the energy level to keep up with it. She is all over the place, jumping off walls and it never seems like she will ever get tired. Creativity (?): Emilie can be creative and has lots of interesting ideas though it may not always be helpful or plausible in the situation. But maybe, every once in a while she will present a good idea that people can actually use. Flaws and Weaknesses: Easily Distracted: Emilie zones out a lot and because of this, she is not the best listener and often fails to follow instructions. She also loses focus on the things at task, and instead manages to find something else to entertain her like a squirrel or a shiny coin. Small body: Emilie is barely over 5" and her body has a small frame. She does not have a lot of muscles and is rather weak. If you were to get punched by her, it would probably feel like you were getting hit by a pillow that was thrown by a five year old. She is also too short to reach things on high shelves which frustrates her at times. Bad Aim: It is a bad idea to give her a gun or anything that requires precise aim. For example, when she is playing darts, one should stand about fifteen feet away from her and the intended target. Actually, no where is safe, somehow she will miss so badly that it will hit you. Memories: -Identity- ??? - Events - ??? - Dreams -??? - Death- ??? Other: When she arrives, she is happy to find that she is not alone and excited to be meeting all these new people that could possibly be her new friends. Is she worried about not remembering anything or not knowing why she's here? Huh, it never even crossed her mind.</s> <|message|>Brooklyn "Brook" Bridges It smelled. It smelled like ... like the ground. Like dirt. Fresh. Cold ... something wet ... water? Sharp too. Water. Yes. Water ... dirt below it ... something was poking at her. Blades of something. She couldn't see. What. Dirt? She? Yes ... she was a she. Maybe. She was she and she was ... smelling dirt. Face planted into the dirt. Plant? Yes, the blades were grass. Grass. Fresh-smelling grass. Water ... that meant it was dew. It meant ... mornings? Yes. Mornings. Mornings. Face planted in the dirt on a morning. That was what she (yes, she. She was a she.) was doing. What do- She immediately rolled over. Light. Bright light. Arggh. Where was that coming from? Blue. Sky. Giant ball of light. Don't stare at the Sun that's not good for you. Yes. The Sun. She shouldn't stare and her eyes closed and the light was still hurting her. Why was she staring up ... wait she was lying down. That's why. She was lying down and was face-down in the dirt right before and now she was looking at the sky and it was sunny and she rolled over again. It's dark and nice but her mouth feels weird. Mouth. Yes. She tastes something. Peh. Tastes weird. Grainy. Oh it's dirt okay don't eat dirt. Something's pressing into her face. It's cold. It's metal. She rolls over halfway this time (not going to look at the Sun again nope nada nil) and reaches for it. She grabs awkwardly with her right hand. She takes it off. Huh things are blurrier now. In one eye. Eye? Yes she has two eyes and one of them is blurry and ah she wears glasses. Why does she wear glasses. She doesn't seem to really need them she can see well hey look there's a tree in the distance she puts the glasses back on. It's clearer. She likes these glasses. She's also lying in the dirt. She sits up. Neither the sunlight or the dirt is distracting her anymore. She can think. Yes, think. Her mouth still feels funny. That's because she tasted dirt. That's not hygienic, she remembers. Remembers? Wait, why is she here? Who is she? The questions come quickly. Questioning. Yes. Who what when where how ouch her head really hurts. Nothing comes to mind. Wait. What? Nothing she can remember? Zilch. Zero. Nada. Nil. That's not normal. Not normal at all. She's trying to think and nothing's turning up and that's not normal. Deep breaths. Why? It makes her feel better. Why is she feeling better with deep breaths? So that's what her sighs sound like. Okay keep breathing it seems to be working. Who is she? A name comes unbidden to the mind. Brooklyn Bridges. Brooklyn? The name nags at her is it a location her name or what she doesn't know. She knows what a bridge is. She's not a bridge is she? She looks down at the mess that she is. Mess? Yeah there's dirt and grass all over her coat and her red scarf is askew and hey she's wearing runners and those are some pants ... she feels them. What are they made of the word's denim yes denim. Denim pants. Also covered in dirt. Wooly coat, denim pants, red scarf. Woolen too. It's hot, she realises. Why is she wearing this stuff it's hot and she isn't cold and wait where is she? Where is she? Brooklyn Bridges? Is that where this is? It's the only thing she can dredge up. Is she near a bridge? Are there bridges here? She looks around. Grass, grass, grass, trees, trees. No bridges. Okay all she can remember is Brooklyn Bridges and that's the only thing she can work off right now. She stands up. Ergh it feels wobbly. Also it's bright. She's really out of it today. What is today anyway? No no no don't get distracted. She takes another deep breath. Okay. She adjusts the glasses. She pats the dirt and grass off. She fixes up her scarf. Okay. She's hot, it's sunny and she's surrounded by grass. She doesn't remember anything but Brooklyn Bridges. Maybe that's her name. She's not sure for now, but she really wants to hit something. She doesn't know where that comes from. It's sunny. She decides to find some shade. Trees have shade. She takes a tentative step. She knows how to walk. Yes, walking. Gotta walk. The nearest tree is too far away. Man, she wished it was closer. Still, she doesn't want to be out in the sun. "Here we go then," she says, then she realises that she's just spoken. It's a nice voice, she thinks. "So that's what I sound like." Anyway, onwards to the tree.</s> <|message|>Ian Kenton Trees, grass, and all of natures beauties scattered across the scenery, as beautiful as it was, was rather confusing to wake up to and being the first thing to take in after waking up. Taking awkward, careful steps, the boy continued to call out in hopes of finding someone in the maze of a forest. Nothing remotely familiar sprung forth in the brunettes mind. It was almost like he was a newborn, but in an aged body... Perhaps, Ian thought to himself, thinking of his current situation as rebirth wouldn't be such a bad idea. A small sense of both questionable relief and unmistakable unnerving guilt began to sink itself into boy´s gut at the thought. The sound of a girl shouting snapped Ian back to reality, turning himself around, the youth found himself getting washed with relief as a huge, warm smile got plastered on his face. "Well, hello there Emilie, I'm Ian." The brunette spoke calmly despite his overly excited body language, taking the offered hand and giving it perhaps one too many happy shakes. Really, if the boy had been born with a tail and dog ears, the ears would have perked right up as the tail swayed excitedly back and forth. But Ian didn't have a tail, nor the dog ears, though it seemed his body language just spoke for him. Though, before the brunette could find himself answering to the blond´s question of where they were, a third person joined the two. Letting go of Emilies hand, Ian found himself almost skipping happily towards the new girl, reaching his hands out to give her the same overly excited handshake he had just given the blond not that long ago. "Another person! Hey, this it Emilie" Ian stated as he gave the hand a few more happy shakes before gesturing to the short blond. "I'm Ian... It seems we are horribly lost, you wouldn't happen to know a way out of the forest?" The brunette bluntly asked, not trying to sugarcoat his current situation at all. After all, he was lost, and by the sounds of it, so was the blond girl Emilie. Hopefully the second stranger for the day would know a bit more then he did. Something about spending the night in the woods didn't sound all that too appealing.</s> <|message|>Kotori Tsubasa "I'm Ian... It seems we are horribly lost, you wouldn't happen to know a way out of the forest?" A brown haired boy dressed in what looked like a hospital gown came in Kotori`s direction and asked her this question without as much as a sign of hesitation. Behind him there was a girl of about the same heigth as Kotori, which would be the Emilie that this Ian person was talking to until a second ago, or so Kotori thought. However, given that current situation was exactly the same as those two, Kotori didn`t had much help to give them, "I'm sorry, but I'm just a little bird whose wings had been torn asunder... I'm condemned to thread the same earth as you." Though she tried to be direct, stating her name and that she didn't knew more about this place them any of they, the words that left Kotori's mouth were nothing but riddle that served for little more than confusing the other two. She tried to think of a better way to convey what she meant. Why was it so hard for her to talk normally? After a brief sigh, she tried again, "I meant, to say that I'm sorry, but I don't know anything more of this place than any of you. Also my name is Kotori Tsubasa." After that, Kotori decided to join Ian and Emilie as the three of them searched for any signs of other people, who might know more about their situation. --- As they walked, a sudden unrest hit Kotori, the sensation hang heavily at the back of her mind and before she knew it, Kotori had opened her sketchbook and was doing a rough draft of a girl wearing a doll's dress. As the form became clearer, it became obvious that the one that Kotori was drawing was Emilie.</s>
<|message|>Emilie Kraus Emilie tilted her head at the girl with a puzzled look on her face. But after she introduced herself as Kotori, she gave her a large smile. "Hi Kotori, you're kind of funny but you also seem really cool. I hope we will be good friends!" Emilie said in her usual somewhat louder than the average person's voice. While they looked around for any clues of where they were and for others like them, Emilie was humming a tune. She didn't know what she was humming, but it was oddly familiar and nostalgic. As she was skipping, she felt her hands moving to the rhythm of the melody. She took the time to look at her new companions and thought about how nice it was to meet them. Ian seemed like the type of guy that would be like an older brother to her and Kotori was strange, but very interesting and definitely worth getting to know. All in all, Emilie was in a fantastic mood and looked forward to the adventure. Even if they couldn't get out of the forest, there were a lot of animal friends to make and probably food they could eat and maybe even a river to drink from. It was going to be so much fun. She decided to talk a little with Kotori because, well she didn't really have a reason except the fact that she wanted to. "Kotori, what's your favorite color?" she asked, mostly because she didn't have a better question in mind yet. It was still a start, and one could maybe tell a bit about a person's favorite color...right?</s>
<|description|>Arthur Crestshield Gender: Male Race: Human Age: 32 Title/Nickname: The Noble One, Lionheart Kingdom of birth: Silvercliff Worship: Arthur was raised to believe in the god Steel but he does not believe in him nor any other god that is known, he believes there is a true God that he is yet to find Appearance: Magical affinity: Ice mainly and also Lightning but to a lesser extent Skills: Trained to fight wielding a broad sword and also with a bow and arrow but prefers using a sword and can cook a mean stew Equipment: Broadsword, a dagger and arrows without a bow Favorite spells: Summoning lightning bolts with his sword, sometimes using as a conductor to attack enemies or using it almost as an electric sword and creating icy patches on the ground during battles. Character Background History: Arthur comes from the Kingdom of Silvercliff. His life up until the point of joining the Order of the Arcane Knights was nothing special. His father was a Nobleman of the King and so Arthur was trained to follow in his father's footsteps to also serve the King. He was raised to worship the god Steel for giving life to people but he never felt right doing so and this ready made path for his life seemed too empty for him. Arthur also felt that the King was not someone he needed or wanted to protect and serve. Upon finding out about the Order, Arthur was intrigued to learn more, he heard their missions and beliefs and he felt drawn to them, seeking their approval to join the order he did whatever was needed of him. His loyalty and devotion has made him a fierce warrior earning him the nickname Lionheart. By my knighthood I swear: I swear to thee my allegiance</s> <|message|>Tuyta Tuyta made his way up the steps and into the great hall. He was almost in before he heard a thump and turned to see a fellow knight had fallen face first onto the ground and some sort of sloth monster was helping him up. He rubbed his temples while puffing smoke from his pipe. If this was his team he'd have the headstone maker start now. He watched Edward, the leader of the group attempt to break up a small fight between the Sloth and someone who looked to have been from the east. Tuyta just laughed. He made his way into the great hall, puffing away on his pipe as he did.</s> <|message|>Loduzzro Loduzzro looked at the chief-knight figure, then at the one called "Car", then at the funny beast man who said the thing about sticks, though it had confused Loduzzro, then back at the chief-knight. He pondered this offer for a moment. Go with the knights, help them with their knight problems, and become a knight? It sounded almost too good to be true! Loduzzro, however, was not thinking in terms of anything being 'too good to be true'. All he cared to remember was the bit about being rewarded with knighthood. It was perfect! "Okay, chief knight man. Loduzzro help for mission." He clumsily attempted to introduce himself at the same time as he accepted the offer. In an effort to make good on his promise, he reached into the poorly-sewn bag that dangled from his waist, and drew a bright red fruit. "Am useful, give you fruit." he held out the fruit to nobody in particular, as if to prove that he had not been lying.</s> <|message|>Arthur Crestshield Arthur reached the grand entrance along with two others and saw Edwards waiting for them, he spoke to the other two before directing his attention to Arthur with a salute first and then spoke, "Lionheart, I am glad to have your sword join us on this quest." Arthur, without missing a beat retorted "You are glad to have my sword but what about me?" He joked, he usually was not one for jokes but when the opportunity arrived he took it. Soon other Knights began to arrive, one that particularly took his eye was not a knight but was carrying one. The way he spoke made Arthur quite fond of him, gentle was the word that came to mind. He watched as the stranger dragged a large branch and lifted it into the air before slamming down on to the ground causing floor to crack around it. Gentle was no longer the word that came to mind. He was attempting to prove himself to Khar, but Khar was right, he may not have been capable, if anything Arthur now thought he would be more of a danger. Yet, he said nothing, it was not for him to judge. Neither was it for Khar or Quill who were beginning to argue, very unbecoming of a Knight. A popular opinion of Knights that Arthur had heard was that they were so noble, brave and above all else they were strong together because of a bond of knighthood they share, if anyone was to see them now, they would think otherwise. Arthur returned his attention back to Grandmaster Edward, so this stranger with no name had been granted the privilege of joining them on their journey. Speaking of which, the messenger had stated the assignment they were all summoned for was urgent and of the utter most importance, why was the Grandmaster allowing someone untrained to accompany them?</s> <|message|>Hastuk Though not everyone had yet arrived at the bastion (had he been too demanding of the young messenger?) Edward decided it was time. He raised his gauntleted hand in the air and proclaimed: "Knights! If you´d follow me please." As usual, Edward spoke with manner of kind words with a tone however that expected to be obeyed. As he turned to walk deeper into arcane bastion he hailed the guards at the outer door. "If anyone on this list comes looking for me, or Lao wakes up, direct them into the war room, keep the doors open." He handed an small rolled parchment to one of the guards and ventured onward. He and those following him entered firstly into the great hall and even further straight into an large atrium of sorts, this was the war room. It had no chairs to relax in for matters discussed here usually demanded full attention of participants. Its walls were laden with weapons of orders founders as well as trophies from vanquished foes. In the middle of the room was an huge map of known Sophitia carved beautifully from oak wood, it shimmered ever so slightly as it was enchanted to display information of varying types when it was needed to. Edward took his place on far side of map table looking over it at his assembled knights. "Without further delay, we are riding to western Silvercliff, near Al Zidoan borders rises an mountain known as Sunfang. We are to perform an assault, of sorts, on that very mountain." He let his words sink in for a while, as it was known that fighting monsters on their home territory was extremely dangerous. "As most of you have probably suspected, there is more to this one than mere monster hunting, so Ill let the man who requested this operation tell you the rest." With an flash of heat and swirl of sand, Hastuk the unseen appeared next to Edward, overlooking the map table. "Greetings and Sands blessings knights, you have been chosen and summoned here by your grand master to partake in operation that will prove vital to survival of Sophitia. As those of you with eyes to the world know, Silvercliff and Al Zidoa are commencing negotiations for an military alliance in few weeks time consummated with an royal wedding. This alliance however has been in planning for much longer in fact, two years to be precise. Two years ago when I was tasked by an certain man within the sultanate to slaughter the whole of Silvercliffs peace convoy, as I felt this was against the will of Sand I refused. He must have suspected that be my answer from the start. As I turned to leave the palace I was assailed by another clan of assassins, Viper clan, misguided group of fools who think they know the will of Sand better than us at the Silent Scorpion clan. However misguided they are, their martial and arcane prowess is deadly, driven with fanatical purpose. After teaching them a thing or two in Al Zidoan swordsmanship I was forced to retreat, wounded, to Silvercliff. From then on I have kept my eye on the movement of Viper clan, as elusive as they are I have found an lead. They have an outpost on the Sunfang mountain from where they can quickly send operatives into both nations as needed." Here Edward paused Hastuk, believing he had made his point. "With new attempt at negotiations we have every cause to believe that these vermin are planning something to spark an all out war between two great nations, we have to take initiative here, if civilizations of Sophitia start duking it out between themselves, we could all fall prey to ravages of monsters. We shall ride within few hours time to Sunfang, locate Vipers stronghold and raze it to the ground!" Hastuk replied. "AFTER we find out what exactly Viper is planning next. So, questions anyone?"</s> <|message|>Quill They got to visit the mountains and kill people? Quill could hardly believe his luck, was it his birthday? He cared little about politics, the unity and calamity of nations, but keeping up with them did occasionally offer these kinds of benefits. Hunting monsters was all well and good, integral even, to the foundations of the order, but Quill loved when they got to to handle these sorts of things. It helped shed light on how dangerous people were to themselves, on top of the monster threat, there would always be humanity and company to wage some war or another. "One here, yes, a question," Quill proclaimed, hand in the air. "Now, I'm with you one-hundred percent, sandy-man, raze the Vipers, spill the blood, love it sounds like fun. But, with that goal in mind, do we have an actual plan or are we in a more improvising mood? I'm good either way really, happy to come along plan or not."</s> <|message|>Loduzzro A light went on in Loduzzro's head as he heard the plan. It was a very dim light, but it was still there. An idea. If these strange monk-men were living in the mountains, carrying out attacks, surely there were casualties. And if there were casualties, surely there was a need for new membership. "Am have idea for how get good information." Loduzzro's words echoed a bit, like the songs of a forlorn whale. "Maybe I go for pretend be Viper man, learn plan and signal for attack." He was very confident in this poorly thought out, half formed plan. Realizing none of the knights had taken the fruit from his hand, he held it up. "Offer this as joining fee, maybe. Is good fruit."</s> <|message|>Lao Xijer Lao Xijer Lao's lunch break ended as quickly as it started. He had ate hundreds of plates worth of food, anyone who had to clean them all was up for a challenge. Lao wiped his mouth stood up from the table, he was not here to eat, but he was called here on urgent business. Lao glanced at the lady servant who had graciously brought him all his food and smiled. "Thanks, oh and give my second thanks to the chef." He said as he waved and walked out of the dining room. The servant simply bowed and started to gather the discarded plates that were left on the table. Lao was directed to the War room, and made it inside just as the explanation begin. So 2 of the many kingdom were discussing thr possibility of a military alliance through royal marriage. It was the generic thing that almost every kingdom did to make sure they were safe in the end. Allegedly, this man was sent to kill the convoy that started the negotiations. He refused, but was attacked by a group of strong assassins. He escaped, and know he know where they are located. Lao was perplexed, why would this man see it fit to kill them. If they went around hunting every single assassin they could find, they would be dead within a week. But if they were planning to incite a war, then it made sense that they would have to destroy them. Anyone who wanted to destroy the relative peace that they lived in, Lao despised them. The questions wetr the ones that were starting the perplex him. In all seriousness, why plan, what were they gonna do, plan out some elaborate scheme to fight assassins, didn't make much sense to him. "Formulating a plan to fight trained assassins does not make much sense to me, they won't hide from us, and if there do, we find them." He simply with a smile on his face. "But, if a plan in truly needed, I believe I have one." He said quickly. "Trying to fight them in an environment that they are familiar with may be dangerous. A group of use should lead them way, while another infiltrates there hold, the plans may be inside." He said scratching his check throughout most of the explanation. "We should probably use, Hastuk to draw them out, have him lead them to use, and we fight!" He proclaimed. This was only one of the many plans he had in his head, but this one seemed to be the best of them all, or better then the furry beast man's.</s> <|message|>Hastuk To Quill Hastuk shot an sideways glance. "...We only know the rough estimates of their position on the mountain, we´ll formulate plan of assault when we know exactly what were up against." One could not see under Hastuks face wrappings but surely his face was twisted in a scowl when Loduzzro presented his idea. Edward seemed to be pleased with it though. "How about it friend? Dont you desert dwellers love fruit?" "Misguided as they may be, Vipers are true men and women of Al Zidoa, their recruits are trained from childhood to wield blade and spell with deadly purpose. At best theyd throw any would be infiltrators into an box in ground to scorch and at worst..." Then Lao made his proposition. "...For now I forgive the arrogance at using me as some glorified bait as that might actually work. We will see when we get there." Edward nodded and made an sweeping gesture trough the air. "What ever your favored method of transportation is I suggest haste, Should the enemy suspect anything is up they would surely relocate their operations. I have sent some squires ahead to set an base camp near Sunfang. As always our stables are at your disposal knights. Will you ride with us Hastuk?" "I prefer my ways trough the land, Ill meet you at the base camp. Good hunting and Sands favor to you Knights"</s>
<|message|>Arthur Crestshield Arthur followed the Grandmaster and others into the war room, the trophies are what caught his eye. Arthur's dream was to someday have something to place inside this room, he hoped in his life as a Knight he would have done enough good and displayed enough bravery to be remembered like the founders and some of those before him. Arthur stood among his comrades around the map table and listened as Edward spoke. They were to slay foes on Sunfang Mountain, Arthur has slayed many foes before but whether this mountain would make a difference was something he'd have to see when they got there. A mini sand tornado appeared on the opposite side of the table, the tornado gave off a burst of heat, which Arthur felt on against his face, as Hastuk arrived. Hastuk address Arthur and his fellow knights mentioning the royal wedding. Arthur preferred to stay out of affairs of the royals but as it was his duty he had no choice. The Viper clan would be dangerous and highly skilled but the Arcane Knights would surely defeat them, something Arthur truly believed. He listened as Quill, the sloth man...Loduzzro and Lao weighed in on the mission. Arthur had no questions or plans of attack to contribute; he would follow orders and do as he was needed to do. Arthur had no use for the Order's horses, he hoped his own Stallion had been fed, watered and rested; he would use no other horse as no other horse would suffice.</s>
<|description|>Kyle Yu Age: 26 Gender: Male Appearance: Kyle is slightly taller than average at 5'11" and has a wiry physique. There is some faint scarring near major joints (knees, hips, shoulders, etc) left over from the treatment that gave him his power. His facial features testify to his Asian heritage, though his nose is slightly misshapen from an incident in high school. He usually has a pair of polarized sports goggles on his face or around his neck to help protect his eyes when running at speed. He keeps his black hair cropped short and his face clean shaven to avoid getting in the way. Personality: Kyle is a very patient person. He likes to sit back, observe a situation, and come up with a mental plan before acting. He does find using his powers a rush, and takes great satisfaction in using them to successfully carry out a plan. Because of his powers, he often has to make efforts to not move too quickly for other people to keep up with him. Motive: Kyle started out his law enforcement career as a Guardian because he grew up during the crime wave that struck the city in the late 2030's. He joined the police force as a detective to prevent that sort of thing from happening again. When he learned of the missing Guardians, he volunteered for the Guardian Angel project to prevent a second super-powered crime wave. Ability: Super Speed. Muscle twitch optimization means that Kyle can move much faster for the same amount of effort. For example, running at highway speeds is a light jog for him and he can perform reflex actions in a fraction of the time it would take a normal person to do so. Team: (I will give you this) Extras: - Kyle often wears protective clothing similar to biker armor that complements his powers. It provides stab and bullet protection in addition to protection against impact and abrasion. This is necessary since tripping at speed can be very painful. - Fighting wise, he has continued to practice and hone the fighting skills he was taught in the police academy (unarmed, baton, and handgun) as well as taking up knife fighting.</s> <|message|>Rhiannon Jones Normally, Rhiannon might let any reference to her appearance (of which she was aware was quite attractive) slide when it came from a new co-worker but since they were going to be in this place for some time she figured it was best to bring attention to it. "Cute? Damn, I was going for drop-dead gorgeous but sure." She returned the joking grin. She liked Caden, she found, largely because there was no malice behind that smile. It was a refreshing change. "I guess. Then again, if you're the beta testers we must be the alphas." Every Guardian knew that they were an on-going experiment in the fight against this new tidal wave of crime and for Rhiannon these 'Angels' were merely the next evolution on. It was simple escalation: the criminals get powers, the government creates the Guardians; the Guardians start being killed or turn up crazy, the government creates the 'Angels'. Just like before: the criminals got guns, the government got bullet-proof jackets and then criminals got armour-piercing rounds. Kyle then joined them, introducing himself a little more fully than Rhiannon had. While she had assumed Caden would have seen their profiles, it never hurt to sum it by oneself, especially as the others wouldn't know those details. "Hi, Kyle. I'm Rhiannon. Similar story to Caden for me; I joined the military back in Britain and got posted over here for foreign relations. They scouted me out for the Guardians because... well, uh, I guess because I had some experience with the criminal underworld and they thought that'd be useful." She stumbled over her explanation, not wanting to reveal her entire troubled past to people she had just met. Thankfully Caden carried on and it was soon forgotten. "It's like a live-in leisure centre or recreation park in here." Rhiannon said in amused wonder, the sheer variety of facilities something that would surprise just about anyone. Noticing the scientists acknowledging Caden she commented, phrasing it as a question. "You're quite respected around here?"</s> <|message|>Tavi Jackspar Tavi couldn't help but preen a bit at the compliment from Alex, like a peacock his colors were on display for the whole world to see and he wouldn't have it any other way. It was a shame he didn't see anyone else showing similar tastes, it had been awhile since he'd been able to talk fashion, but he supposed the simple admiration would suffice. As they continued on through the facility, Tavi was surprised to hear that the luggage was all delivered unpacked. Inconvenient, and she made it sound as though they all might be hiding something. Oh well, he had nothing to hide and he supposed it really would be for the best if he did all the sorting himself. Wouldn't want some other suit-and-tie lackey mismatching all of his outfits. At least the rooms were nice, nicer than the little motel he'd come from anyway. Fancy 'window', fancy lights, a nice bed and storage for his clothes. It was missing something though, and he dipped out of the room, going back to Silvia. "Pardon, where will the washrooms be? I trust they're not communal," he asked, glancing up and down the hallway.</s> <|message|>Jackson Arrowsmith Jackson saw the squad list and hopped up and wanderd over to his little island of missfit Toys."Hey everyone, my names Jackson, as the other Angel stated". Jackson wasn't sure how she shoud approach this, would Caden think that Jack was insulting him and would he have an attitude or would everything be fine. He might as well adress it while he could. "Hey, Caden about what I said I didn't mean to make it sound like I didn't want you guys around, i'm sure you'll be fine leaders". Jack was somewhat lying, of couse their indivitual skills would be a gret asset but wouldn't it make more sense to have guardians leading guardians? After thinking more into this he came to the conclusion that the Angels could be just survalllance for the Director, keeping her attak dogs in line. He brushed it off and focased on the social gathering taking place infront of him.</s> <|message|>Caden Black Caden chuckled at Rhiannon's response, glad to have someone with a sense of humor on his team. Nothing would be more upsetting to him than having someone too uptight to appreciate the things he says. The girl was spot on her with own analysis of the Guardians' position as "alpha testers", their roles ever changing as the world called for it... At least the Angels were given one specific mission to accomplish while the Guardians just mostly had to wing it, even now. While Caden had been given the opportunity to read through the files of those assigned to his team, he much preferred having the people themselves reveal what they liked. The files contained some pretty personal things from all of the candidates, it wouldn't do to have him blurting out things that were their business alone. Soon Jackson was speaking up with his own short intro, following it up with an apology of sorts. Nothing the guy had said had offended him in anyway but Caden figured he would accept it anyway. "It's alright man, your skepticism is right on par with what we expected. Silvia just gets a little touchy over doubts like that, hits extremely close to home and often gets misinterpreted as a personal attack." Caden shrugged with an apologetic smile. It was the first time he'd ever seen Silvia so close to a real emotion, and while he didn't know her full story, he was sure that there was something complicated behind her role as an Angel. "You're quite respected around here?" Caden shook his head out of his thoughts and nodded. "In a way, I guess I am. I'm a successful product of their hard work, so I'd say they're more proud of me than anything... But with how personal our testing got, the Angels and their creators got to know each other pretty well. It's a mutual respect with me, but Silv's another story." He didn't mean to bad mouth the girl hell he considered her a little sister, someone to look out for... He probably knew her the best out of all the people they worked with, but sometimes she was too much even for him to understand. "Anyway, it's not just me they respect. You're real life superheroes to these guys, working with you will probably be the best thing to happen to them in a long time." He glanced at the researchers fondly before steering his group towards his favorite windows, explaining to them why they had the types of training they did. ~~~ Silvia stood in the middle of the hall as her Guardians ran to their rooms to check things out. Tavi was the first to return with a question, one she had forgot to explain until someone had mentioned it. "Technically it is communal, designed similarly to the Japanese bath house. There's a main room with some cubbies where you all can store your shower supplies but two separate bathing areas for your preferred gender. Each side has both a set of shower stalls as well as a bath large enough to fit ten people. Personally I like the bath." It was probably an odd set up for those used to the complete privacy of a bathroom in their room, but it wasn't as bad once you got used to it.</s> <|message|>Thomas Creed Walking down the hall while taking the tour, Thomas couldn't help but chuckle when the living arrangements were fully explained. He could do whatever he wanted with the room? How fun. Nothing would be done. Thomas liked his monotonous room, lacking of anything that could taunt him at night. Then one of his team asked a very important question. "Pardon," Tavi, the man with flair asked, "Where will the washrooms be? I trust they're not communal." That was a question that Thomas thought would be important to know, now that it had been brought up. He hoped that they were private, as he not only was very self-conscious, but he also would feel embarrassed around other.... naked people. "Technically it is communal," Silvia explained, "Designed similarly to the Japanese bath house. There's a main room with some cubbies where you all can store your shower supplies but two separate bathing areas for your preferred gender. Each side has both a set of shower stalls as well as a bath large enough to fit ten people. Personally I like the bath." Joy. Just what Thomas needed: More things to worry about. Thankfully, Thomas was able to keep his emotions under control, as Silvia has explained that there were, in fact, shower stalls. As long as he would not be forced to be naked in front of others, Thomas would be okay. He could deal with seeing others naked. He tried to hide the blood that rushed to his cheeks from nervousness as he stood silent.</s> <|message|>Alexandra (Alex) Denali Alex came out of her room just in time to catch the end of Sylvia's explanation. Inwardly, she winced, glad the bathing areas were at least separated by gender, but disappointed by the lack of privacy. The occasional performance in her dance program meant that she'd had to get over any shyness, where her body was concerned—sometimes, there just wasn't time to find a dressing room between acts, and the shadows backstage might be the only curtain you had—but this was a little different, and a hot shower at the end of the day was her time to meditate and relax. She wasn't above bathing in the middle of the night to preserve that. Pushing that thought aside for the moment, she said, "These rooms are great." It was embarrassing, really, how much the cool features had delighted her, especially when she'd figured out the lights. She'd spent a minute flipping through some of the settings, watching all kinds of crazy colors splash over the walls and floor. The lack of real windows was unsettling, but, as she had forced herself to remember, this wasn't some fancy hotel—it was, first and foremost, a safe house. We are not here to have fun, Alex told herself, firmly. Then, before she could help it: I wonder what she'll show us next?</s> <|message|>Rhiannon Jones Rhiannon walked after Caden, mulling over what he had said. "It's good that they don't just see you as a test subject then; you were also a human being. I think that's important. And it was probably hard on them too." There was no way for her to know what the end result for the other test subjects, those who failed, was but she suspected that at least in some cases the 'end' had just been that. It would have been easier for the scientists to detach themselves emotionally in that circumstance, the fact that they didn't either made them extremely determined or it made Caden charismatic and she knew which one she figured to be most likely. She also didn't pursue his note about Silvia; it wasn't right to ask about someone else's personal information without them present. She laughed a bit when he spoke of the scientists' views on the Guardians. "'Superheroes' is stretching it a bit much, surely? Maybe more like celebrated soldiers coming back from a hard war." Although they were at war, just a different kind to the one they had all expected. She caught the emotion in his glance but said nothing, carrying on after him as he guided them through the various facilities. "I hope we don't use our abilities with all these training regimes." She said, eyeing the mats on the floor clearly laid out for the purpose of hand-to-hand combat practice. She was an accomplished martial artists and coupled with her ability... while she didn't know the others' abilities if she got a bad pairing and it went a bit far she could accidentally injure someone very seriously. Or worse. "Although I guess that would be wasteful, we can only use them so much. Speaking of which, what variety do we have in our team? I'm guessing you already know."</s>
<|message|>Kyle Yu Kyle had been hanging back while Rhiannon and Caden talked. It seemed like they were hitting it off pretty well. Or at least Caden was more interested in her than what Kyle had said... Either way the facility seemed extensive enough, though Kyle would have to see if there was a firing range onsite or not, and the others had asked most of the questions he was interested in. Rhiannon soon gave Kyle an opportunity to join in again. "I hope we don't use our abilities with all these training regimes." She said as they walked around a modern looking dojo."Although I guess that would be wasteful, we can only use them so much. Speaking of which, what variety do we have in our team? I'm guessing you already know." "Well, I've been modified to move faster. Run faster, climb faster, text faster, that sort of thing. And I'm actually hoping we can use our abilities a lot when training. We need to be as familiar as possible with our abilities if we are going to use them effectively. If nothing else, we need to get our endurance up for those dire situations. Not to say that we shouldn't expand on our other skills. I used to work with the Police Department, and they hammered home the need to us to be versatile."</s>
<|description|>AGATHA SMITH Appearance: Standing at 5'6", Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weight lifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit. Age: 58 Role: Scout Sniper Personality: Agatha is a restless woman who finds there is no worse fate than finding yourself without purpose. Give's 110% percent to everything she does, and is a strong proponent of clean living, or as clean as one can get outside the burrows. Carries herself with a wizened air of experience that comes with age, not book smarts. Could be described as desperate in search for a cause, desperate enough to come to Anchorage. Doesn't acknowledge her own bitterness with having settled down and giving up on piloting. Feels like she lost out on something important, but can't besmirch her husbands memory or their daughters to disregard their lives together as unimportant. Biography: Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren't worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, 'Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them'. Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn't particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman. For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn't the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time. Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep. That left Agatha, with a job she didn't care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn't. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn't any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way. Tactical Preference: Specializes in the collection and dissemination of tactical information with the armaments to capitalize on this knowledge with unparalleled veracity from long range. Relies upon heavy thrusters to facilitate rapid repositioning to out maneuver and evade enemy forces. Word Color: Teal 008080 NC Codename: Charon NC Appearance: Body Type: Moderately armored bipedal NC specialized towards ease of movement and relocation. Meant to be a Sniper who repositions with each shot and endeavors to flank an enemy rather than engage from extreme long range at a stationary position. The armor isn't enough for front line combat, but is sufficient to keep Charon active while exposed during relocation. Equipment: -Powerful, back mounted thruster pack for explosive bursts of propulsion meant for either rapid ascent on a vertical plane or dashing forward to cover long distance in a short time. -Advanced Targeting suite to magnify targets up to 60x and offer thermal and night vision capabilities at range. Will paint targets viewed through optics with a marker that will be relayed to friendly units. Armaments: - PXS-8.0 'Opticor' Super heavy Maser rifle. - leg mounted dumb fire rocket pods. 2 pods per leg, 12 rockets each. - Shoulder mounted smoke grenade launcher.</s> <|message|>Michael A. Graham --- --- ALVAREZDEPOT STATION, NEW ANCHORAGE AROUND NOON --- --- "URTU-07." The voice of Matthew Alvarez could barely be heard over the sound of screeching metal and hot steam as the tram finally had arrived at New Anchorage's operational base. After Graham had asked him about reconfirmation about the time, Matthew had decided to prepare for the greeting as it was a great deal of his job as operations administrator to do so. Truth be told, while he preferred Graham's direction compared to how Sophia handled things there wasn't much of a difference in terms of adding new pilots to the operation's roster. He had done it when Stein Kalfox was incorporated and here he was doing it with the new recruits that came in for their application. Then again, half-a-dozen pilots would take tasking more thoughts than one or two. But he had tasked mundane non-NC pilots in greater amount, so he figured this wouldn't result in much difficulty. He stood there with datapad in hand, as he adjusted the glasses. As he awaited the doors to open and the New Anchorage passengers to exit, he waved one of the depot coordinators over. His tone was flat and quiet, but somehow through all of the racket he was audible. "Ms. Pryde." "Yes, operations administrator?" "I want the transport units working fast and efficiently— each NC should be in the NC hangar before Graham steps foot in there. Do you understand?" "Yes, I'm on it." If there was one thing Sophia abandoning New Anchorage did it was increase its efficiency— one of the central reasons Matthew was quite favorable towards Graham's organizational overhaul. Though, there were many differences of opinion about Graham as soon as he showed up and started "barking" even though Matthew disagreed that the barking was unwarranted. He thought back to the complaints that the Head of NC Analysis before James Lofgren was spouting likening Graham as a "despot", "corporate wolverine", and "psychopath". Matthew had been more than happy to give him his official dismissal. Unfortunately, he wasn't the first one to share discontent with Graham out of addled paranoia and a lot of the operation took a bit of a hit for it. Infantile emotions had no business of existing when there was a job to do. But New Anchorage recovered from it and was all the better for it. Good riddance. Ending his thought, he nodded as his hands waved her off, "Good. Go." Matthew flipped through the datapad with a pen as he looked over the dossiers he had compiled, though he did so briefly. While he remember the information in his memory he still was helpful to look it over. He was good with information and knowledge… less so with faces. His datapen stopped on a name and face he recognized more than the rest— John Strange or rather as some of the other pilots knew him as, Jingo. It was good to have a familiar proven pilot returning back to New Anchorage. Unlike the rest of the motley crew of pilots, Graham probably wouldn't require him to go through the introductory process; it would be pretty simply to renegotiate his contract. He moved his attention to the time in the corner of the datapad. 12:06. Any minute now.</s> <|message|>Name Alexander Sky ALEXANDER SKYPASSENGER CAR, INDUSTRIAL TRAM; OUTSKIRTS OF NEW ANCHORAGE BASE Alexander would notice the barely dressed man who, despite his disfigurements, still held some trace of good looks, and not bat an eye as Jingo - not that he knew his name yet - reached out for a prostethic, sweat dripping down Alexander's lap. The latter would then observe as the man played with his robot dog; would that be a loophole in any No Pets Allowed policy in the base? Then, Alexander would finally speak. "It's okay, I'm fine with it," the twenty-four year old would then smile. "Anyway, I won't lie, any day I see anyone, male or female, bare-chested is a good day," he would then try and think of a topic of conversation, before realizing— "I think we've arrived." Then it hit him; they've arrived! Straightening his flight jacket and jumpsuit, Alexander waited for the Passenger Tram to open, being careful not to be the one to enter the base first; that might strike the commander as overeager and unprofessional. Instead, he deffered to Jingo or Agatha as they moved out, following them deferentially. He wasn't stupid; appearing overenthusiastic would just rub the more 'settled' of the pilots in the base the wrong way. As he walked outside, he can smell the scent of urine and blood behind him; again, he ignored it, although he was having an inkling where it had come from - he was just ignoring it. It's going to be hard to protect that kid, were his only thoughts on the matter, before, as he walked outside to the cold air, doing some introspection. He was not totally certain that New Anchorage was the chance for atonement he presumed; as Denver-Vegas was Red-Star's enemy, he had heard of the 'Blood Trinity' of that corporation, and he had no illusions that a member of said 'Blood Trinity' was going to give 'moral' orders to him or anyone else. But, Graham wasn't corporate, and so that still made him better than other potential paymasters. Of course, residual loyalty to D-V might make the commander treat Alexander badly, especially if Nathaniel Ingram was related to the Grahams or other members of the B3. He probably wasn't, but Alexander was a little paranoid. But there was another part of Alexander who thought: Squee, I get to see a mech as famous as Hyperion! He was already imagining it as a blue-and-gold mech which evoked the sun in a blue sky, or as a heavy D-V model packed with weapons...</s>
<|message|>AGATHA SMITH Depot Station, New Anchorage --- Agatha stepped off the train and into the buzz of activity that was the unloading of a half a dozen NC's and lord knew what else from the train. Lights flashed, sirens wailed, and the shouts of foreman coalesced together into a nigh incoherent assault on the senses. A sharp inhale brought with it the scent of oil, slick and permeating the air of the platform. "About damn time." Even on it's busiest days the scrapyard never felt so active. There was an air of uncertainty that hung heavy on the platform, falling upon her shoulders like a familiar coat. What was life if you could see if from start to finish? Certainty of your future was infinitely worse than uncertainty. A bit of fear can serve as an excellent motivator. A dash of desperation pushes people to their limits and beyond. She acknowledged the situation must be grim if they'll take an aged lion like herself when every other independent couldn't show her the door quick enough. However, even if the New Anchorage was on the verge of collapse, she was going to fight so long as she had fuel and munitions for her NC. If Anchorage would give her a shot, she'd be damned before she proved them wrong. Spotting someone who carried himself like the man in charge, casually perusing a datapad amidst the hustle and bustle, gave her cause to think he would be worth talking to. Breaking into a brisk jog she was before him shortly. There was a click as she brought her boots together and stood proudly at attention. Face stern, severe, and struggling with every fiber of her being to contain her excitement, she proudly declared, "Agatha Smith, Pilot of NC Charon, reporting for duty." It may have made her look eager, but she wasn't going to make an effort to lie about that. Agatha was living the dream, and wasn't going to let the other's pilot's reticence hold her back.</s>
<|description|>Ragula of Istiniar Appearance: Age: 37 Gender: Female Personality: Ragula is a cold, passive woman that prefers to listen and think then act and suggest. She works less as an addition to the brainstorm and battle tactics, and more as someone to keep things back into the lines of possible. She hates violence and always prefers to lead things to a less aggressive means of ending a confrontation. She is a wise lady, one who feels for her people but knows that she has no way to protect them until she has secured safety for her kingdom in general. A natural leader but less through moral and bravado and more through a way of manipulation and stubbornness, she is a lady that will strike you as a statue but quickly become animated in ways you would rarely see any man even twice as powerful as herself even imagine. Backstory: Ragula was the daughter of Istiniar's Village elder, a man who had been threatening time and time again to have the village willingly be captured by the rival of swadia. Istiniar was a prosperous town purely due to the hard work of the men and women that worked and lived they're, despite the odds and do to traitors hidden in the nobility, who had been purposefully over taxing them. In order to help alleviate stress, one of the many noblemen were forced to marry her. The wedding helped her slowly begin to infiltrate her new husband's agenda. It was her vendetta with the man who overtaxed her people that suddenly sparked a desire to rid her entire kingdom of traitors, rebels and internal struggle which she did through her husband. Unfortunately, her husband has killed via poisoning that she was to have drunk yet she had no thanks to him imploring that she wait for him to try it first. In her anger, she fought restlessly for rights over his army, kingdom, and wealth and trained herself by capturing rebels and bandits and forcing them to battle her with training weapons, granted freedom only if they could beat her. She proved remarkably resilient and a quick learner, slowly engrossing herself in an obsession with battle and war, spending all of her time learning how to fight or lead an army and other required needs for combat. When she was called forth for the first time, for a siege of a Swadian castle, she proved her worth, as she not only led the siege but improved their odds with her studies of seize tools and when they failed do to a noble of their own side switching sides and attacking them by surprise, she single-handedly defended the others as they retreated with nothing but her small army. She has since then been given a significantly larger army that she has left at her castle to train immensely as she travels with a much smaller group to attempt to make peace with the other military forces without violence. Skills: Tactics Training Surgery wound treatment Engineering Weapons/Equipment: Military scythe Short sword Heater sheild Plate armor Leather gloves Woolen hose Wimple (for disguise) Sausage x3 Honey x1 Other: Ragula, of course, is a midow, and because of so many nobles of Rhodoks are attempting to sway her to marry so that they may have her large army and the moral boost of Ragula.</s> <|message|>Brenna Jorguund. Brenna had heard the whispers in the air of some nobles summoning folks high and low to the border of Swadia and Rhodok to swear legiances and swords to their respective kingdoms. She scoffed at the idea, she would make her own way--although it couldn't hurt to go to the ordeal, she always heard how these balls where these nobles congregate is a good a time as any to make a few connectoins; maybe she could woo some old hag into courting her. But first she had to doll herself up a bit. Surely they wouldn't let a peasant into a house of lords. Sunrise above, Brenna put down her scythe and went inside to wash up as best she could; there were few adequate means of hygiene on this ragged farm--she was one of the few young hands her employed to tend to the fields in his sickly days, but he was the only one with any experience in irridation and piping; "a girl shouldn't dirty her hands like that, darlin'", pfft. So she found the best wear she could, an olive green dress and a cheap golden neckless. She pulled her hair back and twisted it into a bun, sure to let no strang loose--she heard the upper class thought it wasn't "fitting of an upright woman" to have loose ends. To them, it meant a woman was sloppy. Idiotic lords and their arbitrary customs. But alas, she had no time to waste. She went to her father's quarters and kissed him on the cheek--he was sleeping. "I'll be back, papa. I promise." Soft fingertips rubbed his wrinkled forehead and she turned to leave the room. Just before she did, she remembered something; the dagger her father used to carry with him in his younger years when he would visit the taverns. He always kept it in the drawer next to his bed when he slept. She quietly peeled open the drawer andd acquired the dagger which she holstered in one of her bra straps. Then she set out to the horse stable to acquire one of the smaller, speedier steeds. She saddled up and rode off. It took her no time--an hour at most--to reach the border where this soiree was taking place. She dismounted the horse a few paces away, they'd think her a raider or a pirate. She moved up to the gates and put on her best prim accent, "Pardon me, sirs--" an inviting, soft smile. "--I am an attendant of one of the ladies." "Who?" One of the brutish guards repulsed. She had half a mind to slit his throat right then. "Lady Eskyr" a made up name to be sure, but one that sounded close enough to a relative of the high-crown that she had overheard during one of her occasional trips to the local taverns. Hopefully this made up noblewoman had lots of servants. To her suprise, the guards stepped aside. The path to glory had begun.</s> <|message|>Temujin Noyan, The Blue Wolf The trip from the steppes to the Swadian plains had been a pleasantly uneventful one. Temujin and his small band had arrived to the gathering among the first arrivals. The small gathering of Khergits had built their yurt in a corner of the - at that time - small camp and kept mostly to themselves for now. They were after all technically in enemy territory - though there currently was a peace treaty between the Khanate and Swadia the Blue Wolf would take no chances. There were whispers around the camp - some about him, sadly most of those far from the truth. The Khergit had heard someone refer to him as Temujin Khan - he did not care for such speech, but even he had to laugh at it. He was far from a Khan, but... It had a nice ring to it. The Noyan had politely corrected the other man by reminding that there was only room for one Khan and adding as a jest that he himself wasn't made of quite stern enough stuff to be a Khan. Once again Temujin and his men found themselves spending their time sitting around their campfire, drinking tea with goat's milk and offering a cup and a seat to any passer by who was brave enough to join them. Most of the talking was done by the other Khergits, with Temujin offering a few words every now and again - mostly words of dry humor, or an anecdote fitting the matter that was discussed upon. He glanced at the black banner of his that flowed lazily in the breeze, then turned his attention back to more examining the newest arrivals than actually paying heed to the conversation going around him.</s> <|message|>Adrick Gordonson There would be opportunities aplenty, and drink for the thirsty and a place to pitch a tent for the weary, or so the promise went. Adrick slicked his hair back from his eyes staring at the distant collection of tents. Three days of riding and little sleep left the man weary eyed and thirsty, denoted by the empty wine skin that hung limp at his side and the bags under his eyes. The horse beneath him panted with each step, plodding down the rocky mountain path at an ever slowing pace. Adrick felt no need to rush the final legs of his journey, not with his destination in sight. Such enthusiasm could be left to those who envisioned a greater tomorrow, who served on bended knee to their liege lord squirming to receive his praise and admiration. In some ways this made Adrick less of a liability, as long as the intended task wasn't required to be punctual. This latest employer was aware of Adrick's temperament however, having utilized his services in the past, and in anticipation gave the mercenary ample time to complete his mission. "Easy, watch ye step old lad, not too far now." Adrick soothed patting his horse's neck. The steed whinnied, a few rocks shifting out from under his unsteady iron shoes. While surefooted on the flat ground the beast like most warhorses wasn't built for riding up and down the Rhodokian mountains, at least not with ease. By late morning Adrick arrived at his northern destination, riding boldly across the open ground towards the palisade's entrance. One of the guards stepped forward flanked by another guard, taking the horse's bridal in his armored fist, clicking his tongue in a manner of one used to such practices. Adrick stared down as if surprised by this action. "I asked you to halt and declare," the guard accused with a frustrated growl. "State your name and business here." "My name is who gives a damn, and my business is mind yer own." Adrick laughed, taking his foot from the stirrup and kicking the guard's hand from the bridal. "But if ye desperately want to know I have a dispatch from Sir Guliven for Sir Culiven his brother, who ought to be here now. If ye have any brains yer going to move and let me deliver it bastard." "Why you vile brigand, I'll have your hand for that!" The guard reached for his sword but his companion stopped him, staring Adrick in the eye. "You will have the seal then?" He asked, holding out his hand. "Aye," Adrick reached into his pocket, placing the slightly crumpled scroll into the man's hand. For a moment the guard stared at the wax seal, before giving it back. "Very well, in you go straight to Sir Culiven's tent." The guards stepped aside, allowing Adrick to ride past, sneering in victory. The guard he had kicked and insulted was red faced and furious, but he made no move to harry the mercenary further. The lord's mail was not to be stopped, no matter how rude the messenger was.</s> <|message|>Ragula of Istiniar Ragula looked out into the courtyard with cold eyes, the wind catching her crudely made-up hair, a wavy strand dangling to her left eye. She had left her battalion to camp out with the rest, spending large sums on alcohol and fine meals for them so that the military groups may loosen up. This whole thing was risky, but she felt it was the only way to unite the people of Caldradia. Taking a deep breath she walked down from her room, stepping towards the entrance to look at the ongoers. The first, a wanderer she assumed to be a hired sword. She'd keep an eye on him. The next was a girl she felt was almost too posh, and any noblewoman that smelled of manure was an oddity, but she felt she would be no harm with the surplus of guards around. The final was a young man, who she knew well. When at war, he was there well-needed cavalry, again and again, saving her hind time and time over. She chuckled at his games, rude as they were, it was nice to calm her nerves in these trying time. Her hand went out to the first person she acknowledged as worthy of being here. He had been pivotal in keeping rhodoks safe from invasion and deserved a say in pressing matters as these. Moving to him, her hand reached out to shake. The pale and older widow attempted a smile. It'd be nice to test her social skills against him, they'd been unused for years now. "Adrick Gordonson! It's a surprise to see you" Her low and deep voice boomed, it was smooth and cold, almost like a mother catching you coming home late at night. "I am sure you're behaving yourself? What brings you here?" She continued, teasing him. A small grin slowly raising across her face, one that had been absent so long that it looked almost wrong.</s> <|message|>Adrick Gordonson Crossing the palisade's threshold Adrick soon found himself emerging into the bustle of an army camp. Strong men, weak men, men with weapons and men with armies mingled among the tents wishing to find direction and the ultimatum, war. Adrick himself had no idea where to start looking for Culvien, and could only hope to stumble upon the knight walking up and down the rows of tents. A frustrating task no doubt, but one he was willing to accomplish for the promised hundred denars. He was about to press on when a deep feminine voice hailed him, causing Adick to turn in the saddle. At first his eyes glazed over in confusion not recognizing the tall, pale women but in a flash he remembered, willingly dismounting from his horse and saluting Ragula with a raised hand. "M'lady, haha if it in'nt Madame blood chiller. How long has it been since we've seen eye to eye, I cannot recall?" He took Ragula's hand in his own, shaking it warmly. He spoke to her in his usual grating way, but his voice was tinged in respect for the widow before him. "Behaving myself," he snorted waving off the phrase as if it was a passing breeze. "Never, no I have been up to as much foul decadence that I can accomplish without being thrown into a castle cell. Today being the exception of course, delivering a knight's bloody mail. But as I always say, nothing is beneath me when it comes to easy denars. Perhaps ye've heard of a sir Culvien and could direct me towards his tent, then we could sit down for a drink and catch up on olden times with my reward money. Ye would pay of course."</s>
<|message|>Ragula of Istiniar Perhaps I could spend some money for banter, but then again, that's essentially what I am here to do" She remarked before putting up her hand up, pointing her finger to the large camp building for the soldiers and Temujin. "I assume he's somewhere within the encampment, most likely drilling his troops on their manners. I wish you luck in finding him. I have matters to attend to elsewhere" She replied with a small smile, giving him a curtsey bow, light and simple. and walking off deeper into the castle. She was off to lay her demands on the help within so that they made everything up proper. Everything needed to be perfect, or else this could easily make things worse than they already had been. As much as she enjoyed the company of a familiar face, Adrick was a worrisome face. He was not one to be wise with his words or to hold his tongue and as he is from Rhodoks he may prove counter-productive in her efforts. She would have to talk to him later. Negotiations could easily be turned into hostilities and it was her job to stop that. She was nervous and terrified, but not a soul could tell.</s>
<|description|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka Appearance:Actual facial appearance and overall body-type: General armored 'look', emphasis on the chunky leg armor, and minus the floaty bits: Actual mecha she is based off of: A Chibi version of how she would sort of look: Combat Role: Heavy Artillery Data Center: Bladine - South Equipment & Gear:Total Slots: 12 * Heavy Particle Beam Bazooka (Handheld)- Slot 1 * Heavy Particle Beam Ammo - Slot 3 * 2X Dual Medium Beam Cannon (Shoulder-mounted) - (Slot 1 each) Total Slot 2 * 2X Medium Beam Cannon Ammo - (Slot 1 each) Total Slot 2 * MetalloCeramic Armor - Slot 2 * Beam-Dampener Forcefield - Slot 2 Personality:Hyouka is an enjoyer of life, who doesn't take her sentience and rights for granted, and is grateful to the champions of the past who secured peace between man and machine. She revels in her human appearance, but recognizes that not all robots had the same human-like upbringing that she had. Hyouka is nurturing and likes to see everyone getting along, desiring that bonds between individuals remain strong in these trying times. Despite behaving in a goofy manner in social settings, Hyouka can be surprisingly intelligent and tactical in combat, preferring to analyze and approach a situation from a safe distance, and surgically annihilating high-priority targets. Background:Hyouka's 'parents', who were descended from the MillAgros Company's line of robot tractors, migrated to Bladine to help with the reconstruction efforts, particularly in revitalizing the damaged food infrastructure. Having more than earned their keep, Hyouka's parents invested in creating a child who could be as human-like as possible so that she could enjoy all the benefits of fitting in perfectly with human society. Hyouka went through her early life facing little to no prejudice, and helped alleviate any ill-feelings any of her more ignorant human friends might have had towards robots, thus smoothing over human-robot relations. Though she enjoyed a very peaceful civilian life away from danger, Hyouka, who had always admired the Knightly Orders, felt she could do more by contributing to the war effort. She opted to outfit herself with hardpoints, allowing her to don mechanical armor, not unlike a knight, but more deeply integrated than any human-machine interface could be, and choosing to handle dangerous, high-damage weaponry and to be come a high-priority target herself, so that he human counterparts hopefully wouldn't have to. The hangar doors opened out into an asteroid field. Hefting her cannon, Hyouka kicked off into space using her big, clunky, armored legs. Though her armor was fully integrated into her cybernetics, becoming less equipment and more an extension of her body, there was still some sluggishness, owing to the sheer weight of the parts. She double checked that her pain receptors had been switched to 'damage receptor' mode, so that any harm she received would register as 'damage' instead of as 'pain', allowing her to register threats without resorting to panicked reflex. She mentally thanked her parents for making her so lifelike and able to experience things as humans did, but for combat, it was easier to just be a machine sometimes. Hyouka noticed a drift in her rotation, and activated her thrusters to correct for the slight deviance. This was a good training exercise to get her used to space maneuvering and inertia of her weapons and armor. Heading deeper into the asteroid field, Hyouka had reached a safe distance from the troop transport. Warming up her cannons, text and diagrams from Hyouka's heads-up display flashed across her eyes, letting her know the status of her equipment and picking out potential targets. The dual beam cannons mounted over her shoulders extended and swiveled around like turrets, pointing at the various asteroids that floated about. Devastating magenta beams flashed out from her shoulders, striking the rocks forcefully, leaving deep, glowing impressions. Now to try the big one. Hyouka lifted the heavy particle beam cannon to her chest and connected its butt to the energy core mounted on her chest. She felt the click as the weapon attached to her, and could feel the energy draining into the gun as it began whirring to life and opening up like the jaws of a wolf. Making sure to point away from the transport, Hyouka let loose a powerful stream of energy that plowed through the asteroids. Hyouka had to fire her thrusters slightly to prevent from being pushed back by the surge of power lighting up space in front of her. A weapon like this might be too dangerous for a human combatant to handle, which was why she had chosen it. Instead of just leaving a molten imprint, the asteroids hit by the particle beam were superheated to the point of rupture. Clouds of searing pebbles and sand flew in all directions, some were stopped when they hit Hyouka's defense field, while others that managed to make it past the energy shield harmlessly impinged off her thick armor. Despite knowing that war was not a game, Hyouka couldn't help but feel somewhat exhilarated at wielding so much destructive power, and couldn't keep a smile from appearing on her face. As her weapons warmed down, Hyouka turned around and headed back towards to transport.</s> <|message|>STP3-CHMR Beta IV "VILKAS" This situation... Vilkas was one to keep things simple and logical, emotional behaviour was seen to her as often foreign, but, this once, she found herself gritting her teeth ever so slightly. It brought back bad memories, though even worse than those memories was the realization she only had learned they were bad not too long ago. One just doesn't know how dark things really are until they see a glimpse of light. In such a situation she was caught by surprise by the sudden approach of her superior, her tail tensing up. "Ah! Ma'am! Yes, I am VILKAS." she said in a startled tone, a rare one for her, it took her a moment for her typical behaviour to return. "Not quite, it seems this mission won't deviate from my typical use in battles, outside of the change to the closed space the illegal laboratory will provide. Well... I do wonder a bit about the nature of these labs..." she vacillated for a moment. "No, I am sorry for my behaviour, it is not my place to wonder about non-vital aspects of the mission. I am ready for deployment." Now that she was done talking, she really took a moment to observe her superior's outfit. Vilkas really didn't understand fashion, it seemed, and the people who cared about clothing really seemed to have such unusual choices. For the robot who walked with her frame exposed, fancy jackets and hats were really alien, shark themed or not.</s> <|message|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka Hyouka saluted upon meeting Hospitaller Gordian and listened to his instructions. Though she had wanted to work alongside the Knights, her intended foes were the alien swarm, rather than other robots. Still, orders were orders, and if piracy ravaged the planet, then they wouldn't be prepared if and when the Swarm returned. When Gordian finished up the briefing, Hyouka replied, "Absolutely, sir!" and turned her attention to the other robot. "Pleasure to meet you Camille." Hyouka extended a machine-gauntleted hand to shake. "I can teach you all about humans," Hyouka boasted, considering herself uniquely suited to such a task thanks to her particular upbringing.</s> <|message|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka ~ @Stern Algorithm ~ Camille was rather taken aback by your display of confidence. However, she did take your hand to shake. "O-Okay." She shyly responded in a cute, little voice. You get a feeling that Camille was more than just unused to humans. ------ The caravan soon set off into the remote wilderness of Bladine. Among the planets of the Ark Sector, Bladine resembled Earth the most thanks to its smooth terraformation. The planet harbored a variety of temperatures, allowing all sorts of biomes to exist in the planet. From verdant forests to lush jungles, from wide deserts to arctic poles. All of this unclaimed land was once settled before, during the First Expansion, but then the Swarm arrived and the rest was history. Despite your offer to teach Camille about humans, she was quiet during the trip and asked no questions. Some of the accompanying Knights attempted to start a conversation with her but all that was yielded was smalltalk that ended as soon as it began. Right now, Camille was above the personnel carrier that you, her and a few Knights rode on. The transport was a boxy vehicle that traveled in tank treads with a single Arachnid Turret above for defense. Camille was currently above the carrier, watching the scenery of rolling grassy hills and the high mountain ranges in the horizon. You were told to check up on the shy robot and upon joining her, she was surprisingly the first to speak. It appeared she has finally mustered up the courage. "Miss Hyouka, right? You told me back in Sanginum that you can teach me about humans, right?" "How did you come to know so much about humans? Did you grow up with them? Did you have human parents? Err, I mean raised by humans?" --- ~ @CelesteEste ~ The woman let out a small chuckle. "I was told that you could be a bit rigid but come on, relax! You're allowed to know these things." She patted you in the back. A pat that felt more like a hard slap. "Anyway, all we got from the reports are that these scientists have ran off with some samples from Swarm aliens. It appears they've been doing this for quite a while now since they have secured labs and all." "But that's all about to change, isn't it Vilkas? Hahahaha!" Pointing her thumb at herself, she continued. "Also, you can call me Captain Cura. My full name's kind of weird. Pleasure meeting you!" ------ You and the strike force boarded some VTOL aircraft that took the force as close to the labs as possible. Seeing through the windows of the flying vehicle, you see the usual landscapes of Dostrex. Lifeless and scorched rocky terrain with the occasional river of lava from a leaking volcano or pit of molten rock. Upon disembarking from the aircraft, the searing temperatures of the planet quickly hit you. Fortunately, you and the strike force were robots and your mechanical bodies were built to withstand such scorching heat. At least for a while, lingering in these temperatures would soon bring damage to the circuitry and the smaller parts within several hours. And that's assuming you do not stray too close to any sources of lava. The strike force quickly found the labs, having made no effort to conceal themselves. The structures were mostly circular and white-colored, connected to each other through wide tunnels and tubes. The buildings were built on top of a narrow gorge with a river of lava a couple of kilometers below. The labs were well-lit with visible searchlights and camera monitors, powered by geothermal energy from the lava's heat. "Mmm, we're not really equipped to sneak our way in. We'll have to force our way in but that'll alert the scientists and allow them to escape." Cura lit up when she came up with a plan. "Aha! We can have half the strike force come knocking on the front door and distract the entire lab, then have the other half strike where the scientists are. They can also come up from behind for a rear attack should the lab defenses prove too tough." "So where will you be, Vilkas?" Captain Cura asked. "Gonna join me at the frontlines or directly for the scientists?"</s> <|message|>STP3-CHMR Beta IV "VILKAS" "Rigid?" ironically, the comment would made Vilkas stiffer, as if her alloy had just lost all of its malleability, was she weird? Even a fellow robot was saying she needed to relax, and it wasn't only her as well. The change of topic did more to relax her than the call for her to ease up. "Swarm aliens? What could one even do with those that hasn't been done already. I can see why they became a priority target in comparison to the average rogue scientist. And for sure! We won't allow it." she tried to have some enthusiasm, as she had seen other robots show, but Cura did drown her with her overbearing confidence. "I...I-it's a pleasure to meet you too, Captain Cura...!" she would say in a shy manner. ----- Dostrex was Dostrex, it never changed. few places were beautiful on this planet's surface, and even then, it was a type of beauty you had to learn to enjoy. On the other side it did provide absurd amounts of materials and geothermal power, one of the two factors that made it so friendly to long term illegal bases. Vilkas would have been in the scouting group to search for the lab, but the operation barely lasted, the lab barely bothered to hide itself, Vilkas assumed it was because so few ships ever came to this accursed area. "Captain, my calculations make me believe that I will be better suited to go directly for the scientist. My superior speed is suited for this type of mission and if I do not superheat my tail it is actually useful for the non-lethal take down of target. Furthermore, with this environment, I believe they will try to escape through tunnels or vehicles, even the most armoured of robots can't survive the heat for long, so I will make sure to inform you if I spot their escape method."</s>
<|message|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka Hyouka smiled to see Camille opening up. "Actually, my parents are robots; big, agricultural tractors. Their model number is actually my surname. But when robots were granted to same rights and privileges as humans, my parents believed that coexistence was something that needed to be nurtured; it wasn't something that was just going to happen overnight. So they built me to look as human as possible, and made sure that I grew up around humans. But for the most part, humans and robots are pretty similar. Sure, they're organic and need to eat and sleep and such, but they based our sentience on their own, so we have similar thought patterns...emotions." Hyouka pondered on the possibility that robotic minds would deviate from human minds over time, especially if robots transcended biological issues such as mortality. Technically they already did with technologies like the memory banks, but even those had limits. Or the possibility of a single, networked collective consciousness, what to a biological would be the impossible to achieve telepathic hive-mind, but to a machine entirely possible. Hyouka hoped that all robots were wired to have as much a desire for individuality as humans that such a horror never came to pass. "I am curious though, is your becoming accustomed to humans mission-critical? Are you...mission-critical?" Hyouka asked, somewhat teasingly, wondering if Camille held a greater importance to this mission than had been revealed. Perhaps this escort mission was not merely to escort supplies.</s>
<|description|>Cordelia Whittaker The Mundane Age: 18. Sanctum City: Lucentum, The center-most city of Juno Description: Cordelia is a girl of fair complexion with long light blue hair and discerning green eyes. She walks with a trained eloquence only those who have been formally taught etiquette can accomplish and carries herself with a humble confidence. Her fairly muscular figure strikes an impressive silhouette, though her footfalls are those of a trained dancer. Cordelia's time as a butler has left her fashion sense severely underdeveloped. Cordelia's strongest attempt at casual-wear still revolves around a black suit and skirt with a white dress shirt underneath. While she has attempted to make foray's into more typical streetwear, she hasn't really figured it out just yet. Personality: Through Cordelia's time as a butler, she was not paid for personality. However the few quirks she has established were not meeting eye contact, finishing a job once it was begun, and to always tastefully laugh when told a joke. Three hearty chuckles were typically sufficient. She was trained in etiquette, and how to hold a conversation properly and is in no ways shy. Rather, she does not commonly offer opinion unless it is asked for her, and still has a bad habit of offering her services to those who are uniformly equal to or below her station. That being said, should you manage to eek an opinion from the girl she'd tell you that she was always fond of music. Simple pieces involving a single player presenting their skill, typically, nothing too gauche. Cordelia is still in the process of understanding herself, for much of her life shew was told that the others around her were of far more importance than herself. Not necessarily in a way that felt demeaning, but it would not serve her well to be considering how she felt while trying to clean, cook, nor speak with one of her masters. In a battle, Cordelia is as exacting as she must be. She will deliver swift punishment to any Nox, without hesitation. She is quite an adept team player, and understands the importance of camaraderie. While she many never be one to begin revelry, she certainly won't end it. Background: Coredlia's tale was one of many initially. Orphaned at a young indeterminate age, she was taken in by a family with a legacy in order to serve, and survive. She had the good fortune of finding gainful employment as a butler. There she worked during the days and studied during the nights, taught by other butlers before her, she learned grace and decorum in servitude. She excelled in her academic and historical tutelage, quickly surpassing her pittance of an instructor and teaching herself through the books she was given access to. Cordelia's responsibilities were primarily taking care of her younger masters, keeping the company, aiding with their hobbies and the like. She was responsible for keeping them safe as well, and while it was not a dangerous life they lead, she was prepared for anything. She was taught fundamentals of martial arts that had been passed down for years from before the world had turned to ruin, or so she was told. She was taught how to disarm an unruly guest of a weapon, and she was taught how to handle them. Cordelia would've been an asset for years to come had she not tested magically positive. She wasn't really supposed to be tested in the first place. She was discovered to have circumvented testing due to her status as an orphan, and while the family was initially hesitant to allow it, it was made clear that decision was not theirs. Once discovered that she was positive, Cordelia was spirited away and taken to become an Ars Magi. The Magical Armgaus Name: Stark Stygian Diamond Gladius: Pridwen is a massive greatsword nearly as large as Cordelia herself. Its front of entirely stained glass through which Cordelia can utilize her abilites and shield herself and others. She can always displace objects by translocating them through her blade. In this way, she can cut through almost anything, from fire, to concrete. Parma: When transformed, Cordelia eyes shift from their usual pale verdant to a yellowish glow while her hair lightens somewhat. Her outfit is a white and blue ensemble with long billowing sleeves and crystalline adornments scattered around the outfit. Elementum: Glass Elementum Abilities: Cordelia can create a shattered glass mirror in any space around her. Outside of her abilities it feels and looks like a glass mirror although there is no frame around it and it perfectly reflects its surroundings. Cordelia can utilize this glass or any other in order to absorb a blow and redirect it from any other fractal or reflection. All glass around her is essentially a portal form which she can redirect anything, including her teammates, herself or an incoming assault. Cordelia may also manipulate glass in order to serve a purpose, for example, creating wings made of broken glass in order to fly. Or turning broken glass into steps for her or another to walk on. Cordelia's fighting style attempts to exert complete control over the battlefield, though her capabilities are obviously limited by the amount of glass in the area. In a city-scape with buildings and shattered glass everywhere, Cordelia is at her strongest. But in a forest, field or any other natural area she is limited to her blade and her shattered glass mirror she can create.</s> <|message|>Penny Grenoble --- "So, Dima," Penny continues, trying not so much dance as wobble around in one place. "Where're you from? What's your home like, and do you miss it? What do they teach you at the Academy, and do you like it there? "Going back to what you said about being an Ars Magi... I'd be lying if the shows didn't help me make up my mind. So far, it's been a bit routine, but there have been... interesting tests. Being an Ars Magi can be pretty exhilarating, at least to me. It's like... I dunno, I feel like I can just cut loose, do things nobody else can, really take it to the limit. The funny thing is, I'm not even an adrenaline junkie, or at least I wasn't before I got here. I just... wanted to help protect the people and things I care for..."</s> <|message|>Nicole Cognoscenti --- Nicole was a little flummoxed by Cordelia's dancing at first. She'd always been fantastic on her feet, sure, but her expertise in that area came from years of floundering in mosh pits or bouncing up and down, working up a sweat beneath the disorienting strobes of Hasta's club scene. They were different beasts than something as elegant as this waltz, and girls like their new teammate weren't usually the kind of guys or girls Nicole was pressed up against in the writhing throngs of partiers at home. The social aspects of this whole affair - helping all the girls look their fashionable, neomilitaristic best, helping them with what to say to mingle, maybe some winks at the fellas and some compliments for the girls - she could nail. But like at a club, there was always the anxiety that she could roll an ankle and completely eat shit while trying to look sophisticated. Cordelia's whispering might have gone a long way in that regard, but she felt the noble-born girl taking the lead in their dance and decided to cede control to her for the first phase of their dance. Her words made Nicole think of Astrelle again with a twinge - it was hard to believe that her roommate had disappeared in the night the way she had, or been reassigned away from them. Had her family pulled some strings at her own insistence to get her pulled out? Was that even possible at this point? Had she struck someone a little too closely for comfort with her conspiratorial mindset? "But that won't happen with me. I'm here to stay. Please count on me." "Ha." The storm cloud over Nicole's head broke, and the redhead grinned impishly at the new girl's oath of loyalty. "Alright, roomie. I've got your back, you got mine. Score." The waltz brought them closer together; she felt the gems inset in their navels touch like the tines of forks, sending a tingle through her body that sent her teeth burrowing into her lip. "Would you like to try taking the lead, darling?" Nicole laughed aloud and decided to give the second phase of their dance a whirl; thankfully, the song was a bit livelier, and as with many casual applications Nicole found herself more graceful and fearless when performing precise movements. It was as though she was now permanently in her element, fleet-footed and incapable of falling. It felt fantastic. After a while, even waltzing did too. She was about to ask Cordelia if she was into a drink when someone tapped her new teammate on the shoulder and offered to take her - Nicole Cognoscenti, perennially friendzoned just a month ago - off Cordelia's hands. She looked the girl offering to trade out Cordelia's place in their waltz - exotic-looking, with eyes that twinkled and hair that drank in the light around them. Nicole looked over to her own partner and felt her heart lurch slightly at his appearance - golden-skinned, amber-eyed, serious and surly, so like her own childhood best friend she had seen off with a knuckle touch. For a second she was tempted to run over to him and double-check it wasn't him in disguise, trying to fuck with her a little; she wanted to quiz him about weapons, music, or mocking passers-by based on their appearance, all favorite pastimes of his. She remembered the last time she had seen him, in the soft shadows, hazy lights, and pouring rain at the top of the White Tower. Jericho's hair had been plastered over his face, the color of dark chocolate with midnight streaks, and a single streak of crimson that he so carefully and regularly dyed. He chewed on the soaking-wet ends as he wished her goodbye. She searched this cadet's hair; there was not a single trace of red. She felt bad for sizing him up like a replacement puppy. He was handsome, incredibly so, but he wasn't quite material for bumping fists in the courtyard. She giggled, both out of amusement that she was being so heavily courted and from imagining how her torch song would be reacting to her attitude right now. Goddamn it, Nicole. All the girls in the world who are capable of saving it, and the gods pick the one that thinks every boy from Osca looks alike. You're a danger to yourself and humanity in this shape. If I could go back in time ten years I would throw you from the monkey bars and save us all. Ohhhh, yeah, she could hear him loud as day. That probably just proved her subconscious point - which meant it was worth taking under advisory. She grinned at the girl so gallantly offering to take her off Cordelia's hands, and outstretched her own to the almond-eyed cadet. "I'd love to, babe," she said amiably, with a similar twinkle to her own partner's in her eye. "Nicole Cognoscenti - Hasta Vice."</s>
<|message|>Cordelia Whittaker As Nicole led Cordelia through a jauntier passage, the azure haired girl lost herself for a moment in their dance. He teeth raked the inside of her bottom lip as her new roommate effortlessly glided along the dance floor. The act made Cordelia yearn to discover how Nicole moved on the battlefield as well. They neared towards the end of the song, both panting, holding a pose as the band performed their final resounding notes and those who were not dancing clapped for the band and the dancers left on the floor. Cordelia's chest heaved as an innocuous smile hung on her lips, her eyes never leaving Nicole's. It may've been something of an over-the-top gesture. But Cordelia had learned early to take pride in every action she performed. Whether it was how she dressed herself in the morning, or dancing in front of a crowd. You had your pride, she had been told once, or you had nothing. Before long, however two new figures made their presences known. Hairs raised on the nape of Cordelia's neck as she felt a light touch trickle up her shoulder. The girl was taller than Cordelia, with eyes like almonds and a flowing black river of hair that ended pointedly near her upper back. She clearly spoke to Cordelia, but a buzzing sensation left from Nicole's and this girl's touch filled her senses to the brim, keeping the words from her. Cordelia looked down at his hand he held out, as if he was offering pomegranate seeds. Cordelia looked back at Nicole, who seemed to be gracefully accepting the offer of a long-haired, scarred boy opposite Cordelia's would-be dance partner. His dark eyes weren't dissimilar from the girl's, in fact, they could've been twins save for a few key differences. Nicole dexterously spun around Coredelia, taking the hand of the girl before Cordelia could, but neither party seemed to mind much at all. The olive-skinned gentleman held his hand out to her all the same. Cordelia nodded chastely and took the boy's hand gingerly in her own. Her demure attitude, however, belied her current thought process. The hair on her neck stayed raised, something felt odd about this. She wasn't sure what, they certainly appeared to be human and not some voidsent abomination. Cordelia thought back to a hunting lesson she was partial to once morning at the estate at which she had been raised and worked her entire life. Would you prefer to hunt a tiger, or a wolf? Of course, each of the student's provided educated answers as to why a wolf was the safer prey, a much lighter beast who relied on a pack to successfully hunt for itself. The instructor had nodded sagely, before explaining that each student was right in a classroom, but wrong in the field of a hunt. A tiger, as powerful as it was, could be backed into a corner, he explained. It fought alone, so it died alone. But to hunt a wolf was to constantly second guess yourself, wondering if others were behind you. "Are you okay?" the boy asked Cordelia. The ars magi stifled her visage's desire to contort in surprise and instead forced a curt smile. "I'm excellent," she responded. She let herself be pulled into her partner's embrace, tightening the distance between the both of them and allowing her hands to find his upperback, subtly feeling for a weapon the boy may've hidden on him. "Please, lead the way."</s>
<|description|>Druid Girl Age: 16 Race: Human(?) Gender: Female Appearance: Druid Girl is an attractive young woman with healthy, shiny caramel-colored skin, long, silky and glossy black hair as well as bright, sunny eyes with the color of gold. She stands at just above average height, with a well-defined body, ample bosom, taut stomach and curvy legs. She is not slim or slender though, but neither is she chubby or overly plump, instead she sports a healthy and trim physique, with well-sculpted limbs and digits. As for her attire, it is very simplistic. During late spring through to early autumn, she wears a cropped, hooded vest, a white tight-fitting bandeau on her chest - exposing her midriff completely, along with a pelvic curtain - held in place by a long-tailed sash - with many fabrics woven into it. On her feet she wears a pair of multi-strapped, but simple, sandals and on her forearms she wears a pair of simple cloth bracers. She also adorns her hair with two, long, snow-white feathers - one on each side of her head. Also worth noting is that the sash she wears has a handful of small bells hanging from it. During late autumn to early spring, her "winter clothes" consists of a hooded coat instead of the vest, a woolen shirt instead of the bandeau and a long skirt, with leggings underneath, isntead of the curtained skirt. She also wears boots and gloves instead of the sandals and bracers. Druid Girl's voice is sweet and gentle, but full of life and vibrant energy. She is very expressive, both in her face and body-language. She has no qualms about showing physical affection for those she likes or cares for, hugging or embracing them without a smidge of embarrassment. By the same token though, it's eaasy to tell when she's upset and/or angry. Also, despite being a human, her unnaturally colored eyes seem to hint at some non-human blood running through her veins, though exactly what is far too distant and far-removed to have any actual impact on her psyche or body. Height: 5'5" / 166 cm Eye Color: Gold Hair Color: Black Personality: Druid Girl is a friendly and kind person, with a love for life and the world around her. She is bright and cheerful, but can be mischievous and physically playful - especially with other girls. She loves nature and animals, which were the main reasons she chose to train as a druid in the first place. Additionally, the young woman loves good food and almost all manner of sweets, which often leads to her getting depressed as a druid should not eat or want more food than they actually need. While she likes animals she does not keep pets, and does not like the concept of domestication. Also, Druid Girl loathes those who are cruel, and even more so if its targeted against those that are weak or unable to defend themselves. She also cannot stand for pointless destruction or those who indulge in great excess. She has a very hard time for anyone who believes in racial supremacy too, as well as those who discriminate agains others because of their species or gender. Unlike many druids or nature-lovers though, she does not begrudge the construction of towns and cities, as long as they don't grow too large or cause too much damage to the surrounding areas. She prefers to be out in the wild though, or at least outdoors, to being couped up inside buildings or indoors, as it can cause her to feel a slight bit of claustrophobia. Druid Girl also doesn't hold grudges, nor does she stay mad for long. Even if insulted or angered, it will fade rather quickly and she has an easy time returning to her regular, happy and kind self. This, of course, does not apply to beings of an unnatural state though, such as the undead or beings that don't belong in this world. Any and all creatures of this kind are abominations in her eyes, and should be expunged with extreme and immediate measures. She can also get irritated when people whine about things like rain, winter or the sweltering heat of summer, finding it pointless to complain about things that they cannot change, but can handle in one way or another. In her spare time, she likes to take walks in forests and meadows while singing, as well as checking on the local wildlife and tending to plants and trees. Likes: Animals, Nature, Kindness, Delicious food, Sweets, All seasons Dislikes: Cruelty, Wildlife exploitation, Senseless destruction, Unnatural beings (undead, demons, etc), People complaining about weeather and seasons Hobbies: Singing, Forest strolls, Tending nature, Snacking on foods & sweets, Bathing, Teasing History: Druid Girl was born and grew up in a rural village in the western parts of the kingdom. Her parents were simple folk, her father a farmhand and her mother a daycare nurse. From an early age, she was brought along to both parents workplaces, being shown both the importance of crops and the kidness of caring for others. The girl never complained about this though, she loved her family and was happy to be with, and helping them. She espcially liked working with her father, who would show her how different crops grew, how to deal with animals and even how and where to do simple foraging. Her mother taught her more in the ways of showing kindness, the values of helping others and that why not to be spiteful or mean. It was a peaceful time and though life wasn't always easy, it was still full of warmth of joy. As she grew older, she would take more and more interest in the things that nature could and would provide - flowers, mushrooms, nuts, roots, various types of grass and even the wild beasts that lived there. This growing interest however meant she spent less and less time aiding her parents willingly, which began to cause friction. Eventually, these little disagreements became arguments, and eventually full-blown conflicts. Finallye, Druid Girl left her house after a particularly nasty confrontation with her parents. She left her home and her village and began to wander the great outdoors. However, even with the little information her father had provided, surviving on her own proved far tougher than she had expected. On the verge of both freezing to death and starving, she was found by a wanderer - a wanderer who happaned to be an arch druid himself. After being fed and being allowd to share his campfire, the girl told her tale and explained herself, her interest and curiosity about nature and the wilds. At first the old man urged her to return to her family, but she insisted that she wouldn't do so until she could prove that her desire to know and explore nature was more than just self-indulgence, she wanted to prove that it could be useful to both her and others. The old druid sighed and told her that, if she so desired, she could become his apprentice - on the condition that once she finished training, she would return to her family and show off the fruits of her labor. Agreeing in a heartbeat, with the brightest smile this side of the world, Druid Girl had no hesitation or doubts when taking the old man up on his offer. The next few years were spent studying and learning from her mentor, who taught her many things, both about flora an fauna. He taught her how to speak to animals and plants, where to look and how to move to find things or places, as well as teaching her the basic arts of druidic magics. Once she reached about her mid-teens, her master eventually told her that her training was complete, congratuating his student and wishing her well - in addition to reminding her of her promise and the responsabilities she now had as a druid herself. Returning to her home, Druid Girl was sure that she would be able to show off her knowledge and skills to her parents, allowing them to mend the rift that had been caused those many years ago. Upon her return though, she found that her father had fallen ill and her mother was worked to the bone, having to both care for her sickly husband as well as do her job to bring home money for the pair. When she first arrived, her mother was quick to lecture and scold her, then pointing out her father's condition. However, once the daughter went outside and returned with some plants and herbs, brewed a tea and used her spellcraft to help heal her ailing father, the tune changed quite rapidly. Much bawling and apologizing was had - from both parties - and the reconciliation was a success. With her father on the road to recovery and with her mother's tearful blessings, Druid Girl agains set out on the road, heading eastward. She had heard that there was a new town in the far-frontier, a place which surely could use the help and skills of a druid to aid in keeping the wilderness in check, or at bay. So she began her journey, on the slippery, slithering pathway of adventure.</s> <|message|>Steppe Archer Steppe Archer's smile only brightened at the prospect of their job getting easier with the bright moons being out. It certainly made alleyways more inviting, with each hour passing only making each place a more unsafe place for darkness to dwell. She really did feel like they were doing great, even if this was just a single, well-lit night on the job. If she didn't feel like getting harassed by drunks on a bi-nightly basis was a turn-off, she might well have considered swapping careers...but adventures sounded a lot more fun than guard duty. Still, she wouldn't mind taking a job like this another time, if needed to. As the time grew nearer for them to end their night off and head to bed, Steppe Archer would yawn and stretch, energy finally having hit its limits. "Yeah, we just...gotta get back to the garrison, get paid, and go to bed." she would say, starting to walk towards the center of town with her companions, then back north to the garrison. It was simple enough to get back, and, with the time limit having just been hit, it was a good time for the nomadic archer to finally bottom out on stamina. Thankfully, nothing would happen as they entered, the archer stepping forward to say: "We patrolled around, and no trouble sir! We found a drunk, but...he found out that going home was a lot better than spending the night in a cell," she would say, extinguishing her torch and saluting.</s> <|message|>Lizard Fighter Lizard Fighter kept his eyes and mind on the job at hand. Those reptilian eyes twitching this way and that when something moved. Rats, cats chasing the rats, and some debris shifting in the errant breezes. The girls talked again, getting a mental sigh from the male. Oh, they were saying it was time to get back to the garrison to report. Great! He walked with them, just because the shift was over didn't mean they wouldn't be dragged into something else. Thankfully things stayed quiet, the return trip uneventful as they made their way into the barracks. The Archer Girl was finally losing energy after her big yawn. So there was a bottom to that particular well, huh? Like the others he dropped off the torch and shield and made his way to the captains office. Archer Girl gave a good enough synopsis about the nights events. A little vague though. "The drunk was arguing with the tavern keeper and some intimidation made him run home." He clarified as the Guard Captain nodded and handed the group the paper to give the Guild. Which was probably closed up for the night. Lizard Fighter pocketed the parchment before leaving the building with the two girls. "Alley camping or an inn?" He asked, obviously not caring which the group did.</s>
<|message|>Druid Girl After having returned their equipment, and the archer and lizard gave their report to the Captain, who olny nodded in acknowledgement, Druid Girl felt no need to add anythinbg more. The details about what the drunk had been arguing about, and his lewd comments about her chest, didn't need to be mentioned. Still the Captain sighed a bit when there was mentino of intimidation. "Well, better than having you beaten him over the head and drag his sorry ass here, I suppose." The middle-aged man muttered, standing from his seat and handing over the tiny parchment to the big red lizard. "Good work, if we ever need stand-ins again, I'll know who to ask the Guild for." He said, jokingly of course, before wishing them a good night. Upon leaving the garrison, the moons had begun to wane a bit from their zenith, though not by much. It was thus barely past midnight, so the guild wouldn't be open at this hour, which meant they couldn't go and turn in their receipt and get paid tonight. Still, Big Red's comment about alley camping made Druid Girl shiver a bit. She was fine with camping outdoors, in the wilderness, but inside a town, in some dank, nasty alley? With flea-addled sewer rats, stray dogs, drunks and possible rapists? No thank you, there were times when human-made establishments had their charm. Plus, sleeping in a bed sure beat sleeping on cobbled stone any day of the week. Of course, the silky-haired, caramel-skinned girl already had a room booked at an inn, but it was a single bedroom... "Well, I already have a room at the Salty Pork Inn, so I'll be staying there but..." She started, looking at the two. "It's only got one bed... So, I guess you could fit in if we squeezed together in the bed-" She said to the archer. "-but, I'm afraid you might have to sleep on the floor, if you wanna come too." She said, looking at Big Red. "Oh, but maybe there're still some rooms available for rent there, since it wasn't fully booked when I rented my room." She added, as if a candlestick had just lit up over her head and given her an idea. UUuuuurrrrrrrrh..... Druid Girl's face went beat-red. The sound that had just escaped from her belly, and echoed through the empty street they were standing in now, was a clear indication that dinner was way overdo. The girl, however, looked absolutely mortified at the noise she had just involuntairly just made, seemingly wanting to sink through the solid stone street and disappear into the crust of the earth itself. "Ah... Uh... Ahaha... So, we uh... We really haven't eaten anyhting since l-lunch, huh? Haha..." She tried to play it off nonchlantly, rubbing the back of her head and averting her gaze from her two companions. Whether they'd join her at the inn she was staying at, or if they had their own accomodations or plans for the night, one thing was for certain. Once she got back, she was going to force the innkeep to give her something, anything to eat!</s>
<|description|>Liam Wainscott Age: 22 Appearance:</s> <|message|>Liam Wainscott Liam sighed as he stood on the deck and watched his crew starting to make preparations to dock. They had been sailing for a few months now from place to place, gathering things to sell. He hoped they would make a profit when they arrived. They were getting short on money and if they were to make it to their next destination in time the profit would need to be mighty indeed. In order to reach their true destination and achieve their main goal it would take much more time and profit than this bit of cargo could hope to bring. Unless things started to turn around and soon they might just be in trouble. The deadline was soon approaching and they had no choice but to be successful in making it. Too much depended on it. A sound from the port side drew his attention and Liam yelled, "Watch the sail you bloody fool!" as a near miss almost brained his first mate in the head because of the negligence of one of the crew. The resulting fight that broke out was over almost before it started with the first mate quickly showing the crewman the error of his ways and sending him to the crows nest for watch duty. Walking over to the railing, Liam took a deep breath of the sea air. The lower they descended the more pronounced it became. It always made him a bit homesick as he had grown up in a port town and only in his late teens left it to sail the skies. The crew of the ship he had sailed on, and eventually became captain of, had taken over as his family and home. He wasn't sure if he would ever be content to live a boring life back on land, even though he did miss it sometimes. "Captain?" his first mate, Wilson, inquired as he walked over to join Liam at the rail. Turning his head towards the man Liam replied, "What is it? Is everything ready for docking. The cargo is secure?" Nodding his head Wilson stated, "All is well sir. We are close now. Whenever you are ready you can guide us in. It will be good to get a little shore time. The men are starting to get antsy." "Very well. Tell the men to prepare to dock. No one gets leave until the cargo is offloaded and transported to the buyers. Then they have two days to do as they will before we leave at dawn on the third. Make sure that they know if they are late they will be finding alternate transportation. We have no time to waste if we are to reach our next destination on schedule." Taking the wheel, Liam guided the ship into the waiting dock with only a small bump as they touched down. He smiled to himself and yelled out," Alright men, let's get to work." His last thought before he went to join the crew in the offloading procedure was Did I see a girl on the rock right before we landed?</s> <|message|>Melody Tourmaline After another couple of dives, which resulted in only one more piece of treasure, and even then she was using 'treasure' liberally. It was just a mirror with a silver handle, at least she was hoping it was silver, it could be stainless steel or something. Eventually she swam back to the shore, squeezing her hair to try and get some of the water out of it. Looking around her eyes fell upon the sky ship, not used to the familiar sight. Not many ships visited here; surely they'd be gone soon too. She tried not to let it bother her or take up too much of her attention. However the dive had left her hungry. Stowing her treasures away the girl began making her way into town, the sand making way to gravel on her bare feet. The towns' people looked at her as she passed, some waving or smiling, others just nodding in acknowledgement. She eventually found herself up on the very top of the headland, a small cottage perched up at the very top, the local inn. The girl simply let herself in, a small crowd looking up at her as she entered but offering nothing in the way of greeting. "Melody!" An older woman, not old but certainly old enough to be her mother, with long, flowing light brown hair and green eyes. She looked tired, but that was nothing unusual for her. "Just the usual? Didn't find anything special today?" "Thank you, Sarah. Nothing amazing." Melody said as she moved over to sit at an unoccupied table by herself, water still dripping from her clothes and hair every now and then. She placed her bag on the table and began rummaging through it. Unfortunately nothing life changing. The mirror, a small golden locket in the shape of a seashell. Looking at it Melody began gently trying to clean all the gunk and grime off it. Opening it up a small amount of water spilled out onto her lap. "Oh, that's pretty." Melody looked over her shoulder as Sarah commented on the necklace. The woman placed a steaming bowl of some kind of stew in front of her as they both looked at the pendant. "Hopefully it'll fetch a nice price." Melody replied hopefully in return as she stowed it away in her bag. Placing the bag in between her feet the girl began eating, the hot stew helping to warm her up.</s> <|message|>Liam Wainscott It took a few hours to offload all the cargo and deliver it to the merchants to sell. By the time he and the crew were finished, Liam was hot, tired and drenched in sweat. He wanted nothing more than to take a hot bath and get some food. He made one last trip around the cargo hold to make sure that nothing was left behind before going topside where the crew had assembled. They were all just either sitting or leaning on the rails talking among themselves. "Alright men," Liam yelled to get their attention, "Now that the work is done you have until the morning two days hence for shore leave. If you are late then you will be left behind. Dismissed." As the men cheered and took off, Liam sighed and walked over to the railing. "I am going to this little inn I was told about by the cloth vendor. She said they have the best stew in three counties. The waitresses are supposed to be easy on the eye as well." Wilson said as he slapped the captain on the shoulder and laughed. "Sounds like a damn fine idea, Wilson. I could use a good meal and some nice scenery would help in the digestion. Let me clean up a bit and then we can head off. In fact if it turns out that this inn is nice enough I will probably get a room there. I could use a room that doesn't sway under my feet for a few days." With a laugh, Wilson agreed and Liam went to clean up in his cabin. As they approached the inn, Liam felt a shudder go down his spine. The last time this had happened something had happened to him that changed his life forever. Hoping that this was just a reaction to the chill in the air and not another premonition, Liam opened the door to the inn. They were shown to a table by the far wall with a good view of the room and quickly had heaping bowls of stew and beer sat in front of them. With a nod of thanks to the shapely waitress and a wink in return, they tucked into their meal. The next few minutes were spent in easy silence as they paid homage to the good cooking and drink. With a last spoonful, Liam pushed the bowl away from him with a contented sigh. He saw that Wilson was still eating and decided to look around the room. There were the usual merchants, farmers and such but at one table sat a girl with wet hair that caught his attention. That looks like the same girl I saw from the ship. I wonder why her hair and clothes are wet? Was she swimming out there? And why is she alone? He sat there staring for a few minutes until the girl looked up and caught his eyes. He smiled at her and when she looked away frowned. He wondered if he should go over and say something to her and let her know he hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable by staring but as he was fixing to get up and go over there, Wilson let out a mighty belch and drew his attention back to his first mate.</s> <|message|>Melody Tourmaline Melody turned slightly as the door opened; gently eying the pair that walked in. they definitely weren't from around here. The pair carried themselves like sailors; it was always easy to tell since sailors usually had a bit of unsteady footing on a planet with full gravity. However, like at the docks, they held her attention for only a few seconds before she turned away and continued to focus on her stew. When it was finished Sarah approached her and took the bowl, placing a tall milkshake in front of her. Melody simply sighed contently. "You are the best." She reasserted before turning her attention to the milkshake and sipping at it contently. After a few moments she felt eyes upon her and glanced over her shoulder again to find one of the sailors looking at her. He certainly wasn't bad looking, well kept enough for someone who spent a lot of time in space. Then again proper sailors were some of the most well kept people they ever saw around this place. However she still didn't appreciate the staring. Her eyebrow arched before she eventually looked away and finished off her milkshake. When she heard the large belch a small smile crossed her face before she stood up, leaving a few generous coins on the table, grabbing her bag and making her way outside, smiling and giving Sarah a final wave. Outside the winds were strong, as they usually were on the headland but they smelt of salt and the ocean, it was always such an incredible smell. Melody began walking down the path back towards the piers and docks completely unaware that the necklace she had been polishing before her meal had slipped out of her bag. She eventually arrived back at the dock, passing them whilst trying to ignore the attention from the sailors as she passed. The girl was well aware what was usually going through their minds as they tried to call to her. Back at the beach the girl walked along the empty sands alone, making her way around towards the base of the headland where a ship had run afoul of the rocks. Much to her pleasure anyway, since this wreck was where Melody called home. She slipped through the small opening near the rudder and began weaving through the different rooms. Reaching the one she used as a bedroom she placed the bag carefully upon a set of draws and let her hair down, shaking it out slightly.</s>
<|message|>Liam Wainscott While Wilson was finishing his meal, Liam got up and went over to the barkeep. "Can ya tell me if there are any rooms available for a few nights and who I would need to talk to about renting one?" He smiled as charmingly as he could. He knew that the more dashing he seemed the better the rate seemed to turn out. Scratching her head, the barkeep replied,"I can help you out. There are a few rooms available. If you want one with a bath it is extra. Morning and evening meals are included in the stay but midday is not." "I definitely want one with a bath," He replied with a grin and set to haggling over the price. It wasn't long before they were both content with the deal and he was given a key with directions. "It is up the stairs in the back and the fourth door on the left. Just let one of the girls know when you want that bath." Thanking her, Liam walked back over where Wilson was just now finishing his third bowl of stew. As he sat back down, he glanced over to where the girl was sitting and saw that she was gone. For some reason she intrigued him. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed like she didn't are what anyone thought about how she looked. Coming into a place dripping wet was not the norm in any of the places Liam had been to before and she made it look as if it were. "Why did you keep staring at that wench, Captain? I know we have been aloft for a while but if you are lonely I am sure that there are places we can go where at least the girls are dry." Wilson joked and laughed aloud. Rolling his eyes, Liam retorted,"It is not that way and even if it was I know for damn sure that you have been with stranger and more bizarre girls ya nosy bastard so don't worry about me. Besides, I am not looking for a wench and you damn well know why after how I was done last time. If I get lonely, Rosie will do me just fine." He wiggled his hand at Wilson who almost fell out of his chair from laughing so hard. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something shining in the doorway. "I'll be back," he stated as he got up abruptly and walked over to the door. He bent down and picked up the item. It was a necklace; in fact it was the necklace that the girl had been messing with when he first came inside. Waving at one of the waitresses he asked,"The girl that was in here earlier, the soaking wet one, where could I find her? Is she a local do you know? She seems to have dropped this." She shook her head at him that she did not know but before he got discouraged a lady called out, "You might try the docks or the beach. She tends to hang around there." "Thanks, Ma'am." he yelled and called out, ""Wilson I will see ya later. I've got a room here if you need to find me." He took off out the door and headed towards the docks. He did not know why it seemed so important to return the necklace to the girl, but something made him almost run in his urgency to get it back to her. He scanned the crowds at the docks but did not see her anywhere. Upon asking a few of the men standing around, he found she had headed off towards the beach. "She is a fine looking lass to be sure but cold as the sea in winter. Didn't even stop to talk with me and my boys here. Just put her nose in the air and kept going. Good luck to ya lad." one of the older sailors said and Liam nodded his head. He knew that these men hit on anything that breathed so he didn't put too much credence in what they had said. He stopped to pull up his boots and slowly walked down the beach, looking up and down but not seeing her anywhere. The only thing he saw that was unusual was an old wreck. Making his way to it he said aloud, "Now where did she go?" If she is anywhere other than inside this thing then I am damned for a fool.</s>
<|description|>Miranda Castle Sex Female | Age 27 | Race Human --- Basic Info Alias: Locks Look: Classy eyeliner and a business suit Heritage: Imperial Vice/Purveyor: Luxury - Wild parties, wanton extravagance, sex, drugs and futuristic synth music. --- Stats Insight 2 | Prowess 0 | Resolve 3 Stress: Trauma: Starting Abilities: Consort 2 Command 1 Sway 2 (You get more with a kind word and a laser rifle than just a kind word) Hack 1 (these books aren't going to cook themselves) Study 1 (Regrettably, it pays to do your homework) Special Abilities: * Disarming * Air of Respectability * Friends: * Je-zee (Enemy) - Diplomat, it wasn't my fault that peace talks fell through! * Manda - (friend) A guild executive who made a lot of money when I made those peace talks fall through! * Arryn - A noble I left at the altar * Kerry - A doctor who always treats me, even though he despairs of my sinful ways Equipment: * Fine Clothes- expensive suits, elegant dresses * Legitimate ID - Miranda Castlereagh, Hagemony Intercessor * Luxury Goods - Expensive liqours, drugs and jams * Momentous of a past encounter - Wedding Dress Bonus Dice Gambit</s> <|message|>Miranda Castle Miranda tossed her head and then took a seat at one of the consoles, bringing up some of the video compiler software and beginning to tap at the holographic keys. She began to import footage she had prepared before the mission on the off chance she ran into just this kind of idiocy. "Perhaps we should name the ship?" she suggested with tart sarcasm tinging an artificially bright tone. She made a show of considering it, looking back and forth between the two other newcomers. "Perhaps 'The Cowardly Boyscout' would suit you gentlemen?" she asked with pie eyed innocence. "Or maybe 'Opportunity Lost' is more to your taste?" Considering that the pirates were giving away a ship for what they were billing as a simple extraction, Miranda might have gone with 'Obvious Setup' but that really didn't fit in with the through line of her other jokes.</s> <|message|>Even Im Even ImLoad(?/?): | Armor: Stress:0/9 | Harms: --- --- "I'm quite partial to 'Nagging Hen,' myself. Or perhaps 'Overconfident Fool.' You're here the same as the rest of us for the same reason: you need cred, and you need it bad. Probably need it worse than any of the rest of us, so it's funny that you're looking to backstab your employer at the drop of the hat for short-sighted gain without so much to show as payment in advance." Even could feel an impending headache come in if he had to deal with this for a prolonged period of time. If he'd wanted to be pestered for every little thing he did or didn't do, he'd have gotten married and probably end up like his old pal Nyx. Poor bastard would try to stay in the bar as long as possible to avoid her, only to make the tongue-lashing he got even worse. Even chuckled to himself as he briefly reminisced before he reached into his jacket and pulled out his deck of holocards and began to fiddle with them. Although they were designed to trick suckers into parting with their funds prematurely, he didn't use them for that purpose often these days. He'd been on many ship rides, many of them without built in entertainment and they got drear real quickly. On one of these voyages he had picked up sleight of hand from another passenger. The only people Even cared to show off the tricks to were his family, but it was a good way to pass the time and keep his hands busy.</s> <|message|>Miranda Castle "No payment...you realize the ship is the payment right?" Miranda began, wondering if the fool could possibly be that dense. She gave up on arguing the point, he was certainly sexist so why not simple as well. Shaking her head and adjusting her expectations downward she went back to work. The pirates claimed they had taken care of everything, but if that were true they could certainly have just had Rico fly them in to retrieve their boss. They needed a plausible reason to be on the station if things turned out to be more complicated than advertised, well that could be arranged. While she had what she needed for herself, the cameras on the ship itself weren't of good enough quality for her purposes. "Do either of you have holos of yourselves, preferable something not quite current and at high definition?" she asked. [Asking for assistance on a hacking roll to create some false documents]</s> <|message|>Even Im Even ImLoad(?/?): | Armor: Stress:1/9 | Harms: --- --- "Hey, that's not what Schill told me." Even kept the rest of his words cursing Schill for not telling him all the details in his head, not realizing the fact that both Schill and Skrivver had both told him, but he wasn't listening when either of them said so. He couldn't pay the bills with a ship, especially not one he owned with 2 other people who weren't likely to sell it, which meant he'd need to go on another job soon that he really wouldn't be able vet. "If you need them to make forgeries, you don't need to both with mine. They're already done." Even put down his cards to pull out the forged documents from his coat and tossed them over to Miranda before going back to what he was doing. She could reference what he already had done to maintain consistency with whatever she was planning or just look at them to be sure of their (apparent) legitimacy. "Nice job communicating on our plan of action by the way. I guess we're using fake documents to slip into the prison and then busting the boss out before the whole station can notice?"</s> <|message|>Sex | Age | Race The display monitor on the ship shows everyone the opening of the hanger, revealing an endless void of blackness and stars before you. Rico seems eager to get moving, though there was a nonchalance to him, as if all he needed to see was the image of space to feel right at home. He sets coordinates to the Garneki Station, merely 0.57261 Light Years from your current location and sets the flight plan. "I'm not as intimate in detail on this job of yours as say...well you guys. But I'm pretty certain the ship is the main payment and they'll add a bit more for your trouble to keep you from bailing." Rico informs all three of you as you two forge the documents. Your journey is uneventful, smooth sailing throughout. In fact it lasts merely fifteen minutes, moving at around 0.001% of your optimal speed with your lightspeed engines. Jumping out of hyperspace, you three see a vast installation, somewhat similar to the one you just left, at least in overt style. The shape of the architecture looks somewhat like a slowly spinning top, with your destination being on the very, very bottom. Rico flies you in effortlessly, speaking to the comm once you're hailed and using a guest's landing code which gives you a limited window to 'park.' Clearly he's done this before and it's lucky you lot recruited him. You fly in closer and slide into a far more sophisticated hanger than the one you just left. It's guarded by a shield of energy that allows ships to fly in and out seamlessly without exposing anyone within to the void of space beyond. As you park, you get a quick glance of your surroundings on the display. You are located in subsection B16 of the station, with five spots to land in but three are already filled up. You see two Hedgemony troopers casually walking across the inner railing, with various engineers and utility workers milling about fulfilling tasks that would no doubt bore you. At the very left of the hanger, after you climb the stairs to the walkway, is the entrance to the Station proper, guarded by two more SDO's (Stationary Defense Officers). --- You are now in the belly of the beast. What is your first course of action?</s> <|message|>Even Im Even ImLoad(1/3): Fine Coat(1), Forged Documents | Armor: Stress:1/9 | Harms: --- --- Even stepped out of the ship looking far more presentable than he had when he went in. You could even call it corporate in appearance, and his body language changed to match. Although very little had actually changed, it were the little things that counted. His face was clean shaven, his hair tidied up and slicked back, and his clothes were worn much tighter and cleaner. Perhaps if he had more time he could have pushed it further, but he preferred to adapt to the situation rather than dwell on what ifs. Without waiting for the others to get out of the ship, Even strode forwards to the SDOs and made his introductions. "Greetings, gentlemen. I and my associates are with the IBHS, Iona Board of Health & Safety. We're a third party organization affiliated with the Hegemony that makes sure that your facilities up to code on the current mandates and policies." Even produces one of his forged documents to add credibility to his claim before continuing on. "I'm sure you've been filled in on it, but we perform unannounced audits so that we can understand what the state of the affairs truly are, and today is one of those days. However, while this audit will not be exhaustive, if we find 3 major infractions or more, we will have to notify the company and have them perform larger, more rigorous inspections regularly until you pass. Now if you would allow me and my compatriots to pass, when they arrive." In a hushed voice he whispered to them, "Don't pay mind to the scruffier ones. They simply piloted the ship on the way here. You know how those spacer types can be." --- Rolling Sway on the guards to allow us free access to the station and using a gambit on it as well.</s> <|message|>Ito Shirai Ito ShiraiLoad(3/3): | Armor: Stress:0/9 | Harms: --- --- Ito, stepping out of the the ship, looked past Even to see the Hegemony presence on the station and noted it to be a bit lighter than what he was used to, given his past of fighting these types. His eyes scanned the hangar and he kept his weapons close, keeping himself lightly armed so that they would not immediately gain the ire of the station. The two weapons that he had brought were his vibrosword and his flamethrower, not being too heavy and still being able to somewhat come across as inconspicuous. Regardless, he moved behind Even, keeping his distance and looking more as a personal guard for the man as he worked whatever charisma that he had, though the Viper kept his mask on just so his eyes had the leeway to look around without anyone directly seeing where his eyes were. At least Ito knew that at this point, he would not have to act as any form of face.</s> <|message|>Miranda Castle Miranda hastily gathered her hair into an officious looking bun and grabbed a data-slate. Fortunately her dress suit already made her look sufficiently business like. The boots she was wearing were a little too officious for this particular role but she rather doubted the Hedge had their best and brightest on a station like this, or, for that matter, in a sector like this. It was one of the things that made them so easy to fleece. "Keep the engine running," she told Rico and strode down the ramp to join the two males. She thrust her dataslate in the general direction of the guard. "We will need floor plans, particularly with regards to plumbing and power usage," she stated in a bored, boring tone. "Your chief engineer should have the access we need, or one of his subordinates if you cannot disturb him." [Assisting]</s> <|message|>Sex | Age | Race You three make it to the SDO's, and the two men guarding the entryway show absolutely no skepticism. The look of the crew coupled with the believable alibi and papers check out. The SDO on the left, a man with greyed hair though he couldn't be over fifty radios his Officer on the comm linked to his ear. "Sir, we've got IBHS associates here. They need to see our floor plans, plumbing, electricity, the whole thing...Yes sir...very well. I'll send them in." The SDO clear's his throat. "You can go along inside. Walk up to the front desk and ask for the floor plans. They'll give you whatever you need. The Engineer keeps a copy on every level in case there's an emergency. Though I should inform you this Hangar is an exclusive one. You only have three days, though I doubt you'd need that long." Passed him, the hallway has a neon-like feel to the smooth surface of the walls. The light almost seems to be transformed into softer and yet colors with blue being the prominent one. Once you step out, the chamber is hexagonal in structure and multifaceted as the walls rise to the ceiling, though the lights are noticeably normal. A stately woman with a look similar to Miranda resides behind the front desk. She gives you the floor plans without complaint when asked. If you peruse them for a good minute, you find the second hallway to your left, known as hallway 4D, leads to the access elevator you need a code to gain entry for, and it will take you to any level you see fit. You find a small slip of paper on the floor plans. A note that gives the code: 179463. --- Assume you make it to the Elevator. One of you needs to put the code in and everyone will hop in and you can discuss a further strategy or simply wait.</s>
<|message|>Miranda Castle Miranda steeped into the elevator, beckoning the others to follow her before punching in the code. "If we claim there is a leak of some kind in the prison ventilation system, we might be able to march our guy right out of here."</s>
<|description|>Margaret "Margo" Mazarin General Overview --- Gender: Female Age: 16 Hometown: Nacrene City, Unova Life Goal: World renowned artist --- Characterization --- Appearance: Margo is average height for a girl, about 5'4", with a slender face and high cheekbones, freckles dappled around her nose and under her eyes. She boasts long, curly auburn hair that ends around the small of her back and is usually styled in a plethora of ways: ponytails, pigtails, braids, straight, etc. Margo has a nice sunkissed look to her skin most of the time from her outdoor activities, and rarely shows off her beautiful crooked smile. Bright green eyes are always alert and full of life, observing her surroundings more closely than most people, sometimes hidden under her thick eyebrows. She's usually seen wearing shorts or overalls with a breezy t-shirt when she's travelling, sometimes donning a large beach hat. Inside she's almost always wearing a grandmotherly-looking knit cardigan that's beginning to look ratty with age. Platform flip-flops are her best friend. Biography: Margaret Mazarin was born to a family of Pokemon Breeders, famously known for their Pokemon Daycare, in Nacrene City. While their work place was on Route 3, Margaret's parents (Sabrina and Mackenzie) lived up the street in Nacrene City in one of the non-traditional warehouse homes. They made an honest living working at the daycare center and enjoyed their work more than most, taking pride in returning trainers their pokemon with a 'new and improved' speech. After Margaret was born, her mother and father would take turns watching her and running the daycare, until she was old enough to bring along with them and help her learn their work early on. Margo had an uneventful life as she grew up and went to school. She was always a very smart student--especially with the library in her town a big resource for studying--and never made waves among her classes. Her favorite class had to be art, and as she began to realize her passion she started to drift slowly but surely from her parents. While never wishing to disrespect her parents, their constant comments about how much less time she was joining them at work was beginning to irk her. At 14, she finally had an outburst at dinner about how she didn't want to be a breeder like her parents and her grandparents and her great-grandparents. She wanted to become an artist that would influence people for years to come. Her mother cried at the sudden emotion her little girl expressed; the thought that her daughter didn't want to do what they did hadn't crossed her mind. This outburst would introduce the next grudging year, the 15-year old becoming ever more rebellious towards her parents and their (gentle) pushing to help their daughter understand that being an artist wasn't easy and that becoming a pokemon breeder was just as respectable and influential. Margo would ignore their advances, closing her door and turning up her music while she worked instead. The inevitable happened eventually though--her parents sat her down and talked to her about what she planned to do with the rest of her life and how she was going to accomplish her dreams of becoming an artist. Surprisingly, they were supportive of their daughter and wished that she could see they wanted her to become a pokemon breeder to at least get her start in life when she was still practicing her art. Unsurprisingly, Margaret could not see her parent's points, clouded by teenage hormones and a rebellious feeling growing stronger by the minute in the pit of her stomach. Thus, she could only hear 'no,' 'no,' and 'no.' So, she left. With a backpack of essentials and the money earned from her time at the daycare, Margaret fled Nacrene City with a letter left for her parents. Thankfully, Castelia City was a hop, skip, and a jump away and thus she was able to find a ship headed for Septoh and boarded it before her parents were able to piece together what their beloved only daughter had done. Her parents were left broken, while Margo felt renewed and alive as she sailed away to a brand new place with brand new people. Personality: Margaret, to be blunt, is a typical teenage girl. She can be sweet and caring, annoying and smart-alecky, moody and irrational. The list only goes on and on. One of her most prominent traits would be how much of a pushover she can be, though. Her parents had ingrained in her from the very beginning that 'the customer is always right,' and that philosophy has become so burned into her brain that her actions revolve around the saying--except everyone is a customer in her brain. A classmate called her Meredith for an entire school year and she never bothered to correct them due to her polite restraint. While she's attempting to break this habit of never correcting someone, her progress is slow, but now that she's in a new place she's hoping it'll be easier. Margo is also a very passionate soul, a fire burning underneath her skin at all times. She loves her art and finds inspiration in anything and everything, sometimes so overcome with emotions that she needs a moment to jot something down or make a mental note not to forget her muse for that day. This passion was probably the gasoline for the rebellion that had grown within her from her family never listening to her own wishes for her life--it was the enabler that finally told her to just do something about it. Margo would never admit it, but sometimes she's frightened of the things that she contemplates when the passion takes hold of her. This has also started to lead into other emotions, like her stubborn approach to most things nowadays and the way her patience grows very thin very quickly. On top of everything else, like anyone, Margaret sometimes gets too caught up in her own endeavors. She takes on too many projects and hobbies that will eventually overwhelm her. While she'd repeatedly insist becoming an artist was her only ambition in life, it's just the most recent of her hobbies that she had centered her entire life on. The girl is like a lost soul, just trying to find her true calling like anyone else in the world. Quirks: > > Margo spaces out in conversations, battles, almost anything really, more than she'd like to admit. > > She is incredibly superstitious. She's also quite the believer in things like fate and luck. > > She hates wearing socks, and thus loves sandals no matter the weather. --- What's in my Bag? --- Pokemon: Wartortle -- 'Crowne' -- Male -- Lvl 26 > > Rash Nature < < Wingull -- 'Oceana' -- Female -- Lvl 21 > > Sassy Nature < < Alolan Rattata -- 'Julep' -- Male -- Lvl 19 > > Hasty Nature < < Spewpa -- 'Poinsettia' -- Female -- Lvl 16 > > Timid Nature < < Spearow -- 'Wulford' -- Male -- Lvl 21 > > Lonely Nature < < Mankey -- '???' -- Male -- Lvl 25 > > Adamant Nature < < Inventory: > An overdue library book from Nacrene City. > Her parents phone number on a piece of paper that she had carefully written down but has yet to register to her Pokedex. > A Pokedex that has already been dropped more times than it should have been. > Pokeball x3 > ₽90</s> <|message|>Margaret "Margo" Mazarin Margo's thoughts whirled in her head as she joined the boys to Nobu's house and shared in some soup. She wasn't the biggest fan of soup, but something about the scent around her and her own common courtesy, made Margo eat her bowl without complaint. Listening to Nobu's mythical story, she stayed quiet the entire time. She wondered what legendaries could possibly be coming to the Cloud Temple? Were they also worshipping Arceus? The teen gave a parting wave to Nobu as he retreated back into his house, thanking him for the leftover baggies he prepared for them. But they had soup? What was in here? Margo didn't bother worrying about it, instead shoving it into her backpack and following along with Indy and Zvi, Dan opting to stay behind for... well, Margo wasn't sure. Despite being a bit curious on what their companion might be doing, Margo skipped ahead to stay close to Zvi and Indy, the boys talking amongst themselves while she clasped her hands behind her back and took in the scenery. Her ears perked for a moment. "Yea, has Nobu seen any legendaries around here? Is that why he said that?" Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Zvi expectantly.</s> <|message|>Jill Ray Zvi answered their question without turning toward them; his focus remained on trying to see through the fog. "I'm sure he has. I've seen two rare Pokemon here myself, a big fire bird Pokemon called Moltres and a white and red Pokemon. I still don't know what that second one was called, but it flew SO fast." Broken pillars overgrown with vines covered the area. As the three of them walked, they could tell the architecture was leading them to a set of stairs. There were only ten steps in all, but they were large steps requiring tall strides to climb. The top of the stairs leveled out to something of a stone balcony, stretching twenty feet to either side and extending fifty feet ahead. At the end of the platform, two large pillars stood atop three more stone steps. A long block rested across the tops of them. Zvi, being the smallest in the group, had to jump up each step along the way, but he made it look easy. As they approached the two imposing pillars, he spoke again. "That's where I saw them, up there." He then turned around to look back at the temple ruins below, what he could see through the fog at least. "You know, Spearow and Hoothoot aren't the only flying Pokemon to nest around here. I've also seen Natu and Fletchling. I wonder what's with this place and flying Pokemon? Maybe the Arceus stories are wrong. Maybe this place is just an old bird sanctuary."</s> <|message|>Indigo "Indy" Rose "Sooooo," Indigo exhaled, looking up at the marble stairs. "You're saying, if we really want the whole experience, we should climb up there." "I'd say so!" Zvi replied back, face broad with a grin. ".... Can we use Hermes and Pawpaw again?" Zvi guffawed, slapping Indigo on the shoulder. It was with an unexpected amount of force, and Indigo winced. "Oh Indy, you can't just ride on pokemon all the time! Come on, that's barely a climb! You guys can handle it, the hard part's done anyways!" "What's wrong with that... " Indigo muttered. Much to his dismay, Zvi began pushing him up the incline. "Come on, Indigo! Where's that energy? Margo, Daniel, come on up!" Zvi was loud calling the others, as nor he nore Indigo knew whether they were following. But Zvi wanted to at the very least wanted to be inclusive. Once the crew reached the top, Indigo remembered. Perhaps his pokemon would have liked to be part of this too. "Hey, I'm letting my pokemon out. I figure they probably want to see this place." In a flash, the creatures came out, impressed by where they were. They all seemed mesmerized by the ancient place and atmosphere. Hawka seemed unsually calm. Mimzy wasn't nearly as giggly or hyper as she usually was. Kovi and Neon flew to top of some pillars, gazing at the sky. "Huh," Indigo muttered, surprised. "You guys gonna let your pokemon out?" He called out. "Dan? Margo?"</s>
<|message|>Margaret "Margo" Mazarin Margo could feel her legs getting a work out by the time they reached the top of the stairs, leaning over and resting for a moment, her hands on her knees. Once she pulled herself back up and stretched her back, the teenager admired the view. It was strange what kind of feelings were being evoked at the top of this place. She felt free, like something had been lifted from her shoulders, and everything seemed to melt away. Any sort of stress or grumpiness she had had that morning was gone, nothing left in her mind besides the clouds overhead that drifted lazily across the sky. Indy's voice was faint but he said something about their pokemon, making her blink as she remembered them. Surely they'd love to experience this place but... her newest addition would probably cause some problems. She felt guilty as her thoughts immediately went to the way her Mankey had first tried to attack her. Still, she thought with a small shake of her head, her other pokemon didn't need to miss this opportunity. Margo followed Indy's lead and let out her pokemon. Crowne was happy to have some fresh air, looking up into the sky and letting the sun wash over him. Poinsettia, a freshly-evolved Spewpa, opted to stand with Margo as well, pushing on her shin until she relented and picked up the little bug-type to give her a better view. Oceana and Wulford took flight and played tag with one another in the air, taking turns nipping at the others tail feathers as they merrily filtered between pillars. Julep decided to run around the broad platform, stretching his legs and chittering to himself happily. That twinge of guilt plucked at Margo's heartstrings but she stayed steadfast with her decision, instead turning her attention to the lack of Daniel. "Do you think he's going to be ok getting up the steps? I thought he would be up here by now..." She cast the question to either of the two boys, turning to look down the steps they had come up and biting the inside of her cheek. She could feel the calm atmosphere beginning to dissipate from her mind.</s>
<|description|>Hannah "Sparrow" McClave Age: 20 Position: She Who Makes Things Go Boom (weapons expert) {credit to pheberoni on deviantart} Hannah also has a set of birds tattooed on her hips: Skills: Combat Engineering (Fortifications, Mines, Sensor Surv, Camo), Animals (Riding, Vet), Athletics (circus skills), Carouse, Deception, Drive (2 and 4 wheel, hover), Explosives (she likey), Forgery, Gambler, Liaison, Remote Operations, Trade (Local), Weapon Engineering (Melee, Energy, Ballistic, Heavy, Drones) Crimes Against The Alliance: Smuggling, Property Destruction, Contempt of Court, Vandalism, plus the ones she won't talk about, Manslaughter, First Degree Murder, Second Degree Murder, and Grand Larceny; she's only been convicted for some of these crimes Additional Information: Heavy South Carolina Southern accent. Loves small animals and will protect them with her life. Cries at sad and/or animated movies. Has named every single one of her weapons. Ask her about the homicide charges and she won't say a word. Weapons: Many. Ranges from ballistic knives, to rocket launchers, to bioweapons banned on most planets. Her favorite is a seemingly endless box of tiny, pill-sized grenades that she refers to as her 'fairy dust.' Possessions: Hannah keeps her weapons in an enormous cube locker with a 10-digit pass, a biometric and retinal scanner, and requires a specific song as a password. She also has the general odds and edds, clothes, Personality: Hannah might just be the nicest person you'll ever meet. She stands at about five feet tall, she's cute, she has a charming southern drawl, and she's just so damn cheerful all the time it's hard not to like her, because she certainly likes you. That being said, she also regularly blows craters in small towns and cackles while she does it, so either that's all just an act or there's something scary lurking under all those smiles. History: Hannah was part of a large family on a backwater planet near the edge of the alliance; between the two tracts of land the different branches of the family owned, she got to experience both horse and cattle farming. Unfortunately, when the revolution rolled around, those two branches split right down the middle between the browncoats and the loyalists. It was a long, bloody feud that ended in the death of most of Hannah's immediate family—those records, at least, are public knowledge, but what happened to those that survived is her secret. It ended with a bang, about two weeks before the end of the Unification War and the arrival of Alliance soldiers, when half of the town was razed in a massive explosion. A week later, Hannah was discovered missing at age 10, and she's been with the Heart of Gold since she was 16. (Details will be revealed via IC.)</s> <|message|>April Cooper April's eye spasmed as she saw the emergency notification begin to flash red on her console. "Oh for fuck's fucking FUCK!" she shouted into the intercom as she banked back into the atmosphere. The engine sputtered and flared out as the ship descended, sending it tilting awkwardly to the side. "Cyrus! I am going to WHIP your ASS for this!" An orange fireball appeared around the speeding ship as it nosedived towards the ground, engines still dying loudly. April had just managed to straighten the ship to a slower descent when another massive kick sent it diving again. The ground of the planet was getting closer now, the ship's descent speeding up. April yanked back hard in an attempt to level out, well aware that she might be blowing the rest of the engines as she did so. Fuck it, better stuck than dead... probably. "Minus two minutes to landing, Heart of Gold! All yall belt the fuck onto something, this is gonna suuuuuuuuuck!" April pulled the ship back and sent the rear forward at the same time, leveling the ship out into a rapid downward glide. The dusty ground was quite visible now. "Twenty seconds. Fifteen seconds. Ten seconds. Five seconds. BRACE!" The ship made contact with the earth and ground to a halt, digging a long rut in the dirt. Not a great landing, but they were in one piece - which, in that kind of situation, was about as much as could be hoped for. April rose out the chair and fell into one of her piles of junk that had been sprayed all over by the landing. She rubbed a black eye where a particularly heavy memento from her home had flown into her face and groaned. "... Fuck me."</s> <|message|>Hannah "Sparrow" McClave Hannah had been sitting quietly, but a curious look crossed her face and she raised her head, eyes narrowing as her nose wrinkled. She sniffed, turning her head towards the entrance to the 'pit and tilting her head to the side. "Do y'all smell smoke, or...?" Her question was cut off as the ship shuddered, the cockpit doused in red lights as alarms started to blare. Hannah gaped for a moment, then leaped to her feet, stumbling as the deck jerked under her feet again. Without a word to April or Benson, she bolted out of the bridge on a beeline for the cargo hold. The engine was on fire, yes, that was bad. The engine fire reaching her crates full of explosives...yeah, that would be worse. Unfortunately, when April's shouts to belt in came over the intercom, Hannah had just managed to reach the hold. Her eyes widened and she dived for the railing of the catwalks—just in time, too. Her feet left the ground as the Heart of Gold crashlanded, and she gave a rather undignified squeak as her arms wrapped around the railing. She hung on for dear life as the metal underneath her feet shook like the ship itself was coming apart. Hannah narrowly avoided being thrown to the hold itself, ten feet down, only by executing a twisting maneuver and throwing herself back onto the catwalk. Unfortunately, she could also feel the moment her ankle twisted under her and gave alarmingly. "Scheisse—" she hissed, grabbing her foot out of reflex as the ship finally dragged to a halt. Biting down hard on her lip, she hauled herself to her feet to the nearest intercom, watching the (so far undamaged) door from the cargo hold to the engine room warily. "What the heck just happened? Anybody?" she demanded, leaning against the wall and having to stretch up just to reach the speaker on the wall, other foot raised gingerly in the air.</s> <|message|>Benson Bartholomew Higgins - Aliases: "Benny," "Ben," "Higgs," "BENSON BARTHOLOMEW HIGGINS!" Benson just stared at the rest of the people in the bridge. Fire? That's... not good. Good thing it can't be caused by a program malfunction... actually, it can. Ben was slightly nervous at this thought, wondering if, perhaps, his programming was not as good as he thought it was, and a flaw somehow made the engine malfunction. But he didn't do anything that related to the engine's systems; he only set up firewalls and control programs to control what orders the engine receives... which could, in theory, also cause a malfunction. Anything could cause a malfunction. Malfunctions was a horrible word. Benson wished it didn't exist. So Benson the technician spent the first half of the free fall to the planet's surface in a sort of zoned-out state, deciding whether or not it was good or bad to have the word malfunction. The word malfunction does, after all, have a bit of a negative connotative meaning. But then again, if they didn't have the word malfunction, what if there was a word- that Benson didn't know- that was even worse than malfunction, and was used more often? Then Benson realized, with growing terror, that the great flat thing that was once round in the view windows (which now filled the view windows) was very, very close, in relative. That is to say, it sunk in that they were falling, and that gravity was bringing them down, and something went wrong with the engines. Speaking of which, why is the engine in the very back of the ship? The engines should be in the... engines, where the thrusters are, so that they can produce thrust. But what if it were the reactor, and the thrusters were those EM drives that were really prominent around the time that the Fireflies were still used? No, EM drives were silents; these engines were very clearly fuel-burners. Then Garry jumped on Benson's face, the ship jerked, lurched, and everything went dark as Benson jerked forward, held tight only by the seat's harness, and hit a console in front of him. Garry went flying, hit the view windows, and his hard, domed back shattered, leaving Garry as a broken mess, his 'spine' severed. The little bot was completely dead, with its motherboard broken in half, a shard of the dome straight through it, lying on the floor at the very tip of the nose of the bridge.</s> <|message|>Akechi Lee Ko Captain rushed to Ieans side, trying to douse the flames. "Tain Xiao De! Cyrek is supposed to be back here but I haven't seen that grubby hide since before take off," she yelled as the flames were doused. "Jian Ta De Gul! I will gut that man if I find him! He's supposed to make sure that this doesn't happen!" Captain snarled as she tossed the extinguisher to the side; grabbing a bench as she braced herself. Hearing Aprils call go out over the com she cringed inwardly. "Gorram, hold on preacher!" she yelled as they touched down, her body jutting forward but her grip holding true. She ended up spilling out on her back with her hand still clutched to the metal underside of the work table. "April, shut down the engines and vent the ship! We need to clear this smoke out! Benson, run play back, find out what happened!" she yelled into the com as she stumbled over to it. "The engine caught on fire Hannah, don't have a gorram clue as to why. Your explosives secured? Last thing we need is them to get hot right now, shove them into the cool storage for now!" she commanded before sinking down the wall and grasping her arm. A large gash went over her bicep as she tried to stop the bleeding. "Preacher, you okay?"</s> <|message|>Rune Weiβ-Schwarz Seeing the ship crash, Rune started a fast job to hasten his pace to the crash/land site. Since he wasn't too far from the crash, he reached it in minutes. A plume of dust/dirt clouded the area, with black smoke rising from the ship. A fire? he thought to himself, as he approached the ship. From the looks of it, the ship was a Firefly. It wasn't his area of expertise, not that any of this was, but he had enough knowledge about the Firefly series from the book he had just read. He should be able to apply most of it, did it many times before for other jobs. Approaching the ship, Rune walked towards the cargo bay entry. The ship had left a trail, which was black, indicating that the ship was burning in atmo as it crashed. He wasn't going to be able to touch the ship until it had cooled off, so he wasn't going to be able to open it. "Hello, anyone still alive?" he called out waiting for a reply. "Looks like you could use some help. If someone is still alive, mind opening up the door?" Rune continued. He waited, hoping for a reply or the door to open.</s> <|message|>Akechi Lee Ko "Blasted hell, I don't care who, someone get to the cockpit and vent this smoke before we loose all oxygen in this gorram ship!" Captain yelled through the com. Stumbling she slowly made her way out of the engine room now that the fire was taken care of, grumbling to herself about killing her now to be former mechanic if she ever got her hands around his throat. Taking a long breath she made her way to the back cargo area and hit the release, the doors opening and a rush of fresh air pulling into the ship as the smoke started to vent out. Leaning back against the railing she sunk down to the floor, holding her arm and applying pressure to it to try to get the bleeding to stop. "Yeah, we're alive," Captain yelled out into the sunlight as she sat on the floor. "Who the hell are you?" she asked to the voice she had heard with the banging as she opened the ship up.</s> <|message|>Gideon "Goose" Down Gideon was hauling heiney through the wide flat expanses, He had mannaged to track down a lead on one of his family members, Deborah was alive and wanted for murder! No one but him would ever be happy to hear that sort of thing but him and he was hooting as he hopped rocks on his mule. While most had something like an AtV for hauling things around, this bitch was his baby, she could reach 500 miles an hour, theoretically. Theoretical in he couldnt find a way to hold on going that fast and road rashing at a hundred was enough for him to rethink his plans, but the theory was sound and the pieces held up to the stress tests. All the same, then the firefly came fire-balling down he made a change in course and opened her up to try and find any survivors or savage. If the ship survived but the crew didn't, then he had a chance of fixing it up to make it his own! If the crew survived, they would need repairs! Either way is a win for him. He slowed his approach as there was the front door open and two people talking. "Nihao! Yall look like you need some help! I'll do what I can to sort you out for Five pounds of protein or five battery boxes, whichever you got more to spare." Greed is easier to believe than good Samaritans so he hoped offering self interest might be a better way to ingratiate himself with whoever is in charge. Fireflies are not luxury pieces, hard working ship for hard workers, hard workers appreciate fair work for fair pay. If he could get in the ship, he could convince them to limp to Boros for real repairs at the Iskellian Shipyards, hell, not even the shipyard, just the junkpiles would be worth the tetnus shots to get hands on stuff in their cast-offs.</s>
<|message|>Hannah "Sparrow" McClave Hannah groaned as the Captain's barked order came over the comm, coughing up a lung as she pulled herself to her feet with the railing. Make that foot—she limped to the console and propped her hip against it, fingers flying to input the override that would allow the cargo bay to open even with the alarms blaring. Captain Lee made it to the release, the hatch opened, and some of the haze lessened. The coughing didn't let up, but Hannah slumped against the railing in relief anyway. She let her knees buckle and she sat on the floor, legs swinging in the open air over the cargo bay and her arms folded on top of the bottom rail. "Captain," she said hoarsely, "Honest to Betsy that wasn't me this time." She was just about to try some weak joke to try and brighten the Captain's black mood when the stragglers from outside caught her attention. Her eyebrows rose, and she pulled herself to her feet again, painfully making her way down into the hold. She gave halfhearted waves to the newcomers, but figured that if anyone was going to let them on board, it should be the Captain—and she had crates of grenades to shove in a refrigerator. And a busted ankle to deal with. Christ.</s>
<|description|>Yem Yem in his transformed shape Age 205 Appearance: Tall, wiry, a beautiful but serious face. Height: 196cm Weight: 80kg Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Green History (Optional): Yem is said to hail from one of the western provinces of the Imperium. Not much is known about his young history, but he says he was born to a pair of farmers in a small village in the middle of nowhere. He spent much of his time in the nearby forest in his youth, playing with the spirits there. He and one of the spirits eventually fell in love and became a couple. As time passed, however, it became apparent that while the spirit the spirit would live forever, Yem would die of old age. The spirit lamented this and gave her soul to him, prolonging his life indefinitely and granting him the gifts of the forest. He has been travelling the world ever since, marveling at its mysteries. According to him, at least. Personality: Yem is pleasant, thoughtful and secretive. He likes to be around people and has no problem with making friends of strangers. He is the planning kind and likes to take a moment to think before acting. He also likes to keep secrets; Yem never lies but doesn't always say what he knows. He is very fond of artistry in every kind, especially poetry. Weapons: A spear made from copperwood, and a curved iron dagger. Abilities (Magic): Yem has been given the soul of a forest spirit, granting him many of its gifts: * Longevity – Yem is eternally young and will never die of old age. * Friend of the Forest – Yem is allied with the forest and can move through it without threat. He can survive on grass and leaves as animals do, and predators won't attack him unless provoked. * Totem – Yem can transform into his spirit shape. While transformed his physical prowess is significantly empowered, as well as his senses. It is very taxing for him, however, quickly exhausting him, as his body wasn't made to use it.</s> <|message|>Miramil (Goes by Mimi) Oh! There was an opportunity! The woman wrapped in red had taken refuge atop a tree branch, and down below, the massive beast howled in fury as it slashed chunks away from the base. Mimi didn't doubt the woman, who had moments prior been leaping and slashing with agility akin to the wind itself, had a back up plan of her own if the tree fell, but then why resort to back ups? Mimi gave a sharp whistle to the girl on the branch, and with a wave sent a slew of lanterns over to her. They formed a tiny platform, clattering together, and though it didn't look stable, Mimi herself was testament that they would hold her. "C'mon!" she waved, a wide grin at her lips.</s> <|message|>Chi Muzai The dainty little girl slithered the forest, an apex predator among the trees was hidden in one tiny package that was humming the same little lullaby. She ventured on, following specifically the two most famous persons in the world to see what they were doing matter-of-factly from a safe distance whilst keeping watch for danger that may fall onto her. Her small stride came to a halt when the party had stopped their movements. The bright shine of white light beamed from the woods and all of them were looking directly at it. The Crimson Streak prepared her blade and so did the Taskmage... Things were getting a little rowdy soon it seems! Underneath the innocent veil of the forest the beast emerged, roaring and thunder with claws swinging. She wondered how such rotten creature could remain alive. She could see the open wounds, it's ribcage and the seemingly dead fur with rotting eyes charging forward towards them intently. The bear had not caught her presence yet and she made her move to position herself carefully in the forest. The battle continued on fiercely as the bear; without fear nor remorse continued to kill its opponents in front of her. Once its sights could not reach Muzai, she leapt out of her hiding spot, seemingly from nowhere and made a 'glomping' gesture at the beast as earth beneath shook and reached out with stony fists attempting to grab the great beast down, immobilising it for an attack.</s> <|message|>Yem Sitting in a bush, Yem inspected the fire from a distance. It was clear that whoever had been there just a few moments ago had left in a hurry. They could have heard him approach, but it wasn't likely. Most did not detect Yem unless he wanted them to. This left Yem with more questions than answers, and a few possible scenarios. In the best of worlds, the people sitting by the fire had become afraid of Rexicorgs grim reputation and, fueled by the darkness, they had simply left the place. They could also have spotted him, however unlikely, and either run off or prepared a trap. It was also possible, and Yem hoped that it wasn't so, that something else had driven them off. Something that might or might not still be somewhere close by. It was not a safe situation, and Yem was concerned. He had seen the black shape in the fire, of course. Just lying there, unscathed by the flames, shimmering with light from the dancing flames and the watching stars. Yem suspected it was one of the relics. It felt appropriate, somehow. Meant to be, like in a great story. He also suspected that this was some sort of trap. It was too easy and obvious to not be one. Someone was watching the fire, waiting for the ideal moment to strike, or perhaps there was more to the fire than it seemed. Yem was no sorcerer, but he knew plenty of sorcery. And if sorcery could be one thing, it was subtle. The only way to be sure about anything was to deduct the possibilities, one by one. The easiest one to deduct was the presense of others. Yem might have been a mere human, with poor senses of sight, sound and smell, but he had his ways. The transformation was almost instant. Yem breathed in and closed his eyes. When he opened them again and exhaled, the world was a different place. The night was as bright as day. He could hear and place the individual whispers of the leaves in the bush. The scents of the night flowed through his snout leaving trails almost like colors through the air. Every fibre of his body stood in rapt attention, his muscles vibrant with energy. He needed one sniff to confirm his suspicions; there was someone or something nearby. It reeked of corpse, but it was moving, which told its own disturbing tale. Yem was up against an undead of some sort. This always unsettled him. Corpses should remain still, such was the way of nature. He would have to be careful. Gripping his spear in one powerful, fanged hand and his curved blade in the other, he leapt from the bush and charged the being with terrible speed. As the creature came into view, his instinct was to retreat but he forced himself to disciplin. He thrust at the Drider, the dreaded man-spider, with the full force of his charged but was easily turned aside by a flick of a chitin-clad leg. Stumbling past, it was all he could do to throw himself away to evade a stab from one of the creatures other legs. Yem rolled on the ground, quickly regaining balance, and brought his spear up to keep the fiend at bay. He would have to finish this quickly, lest he'd tire from the strain of his totem. Vile creature!, he cursed, Putrid thing! Die again in the name of all that is good and living! Return to the ground as you should have long ago! If the Drider had understood him, it gave no sign. They circled eachother, kept apart only by the length of the spear between them. Then, suddenly, the monster moved with lightning speed and forced the tip of the spear out of the way. As it jumped for Yems flesh, screeching madly, he ducked beneath it and sliced it with the blade while passing. It was not without cost, however, as the creature pricked him in the back just below the shoulderblade. It left a long scratch down Yems back, and he yelped at the pain. The two combatants quickly found their places again, and continued the dance like before. This fight would prove interesting.</s> <|message|>Sable, the Crimson Streak Sable stared up at the girl with the lanterns blankly. Exactly…what was she trying to do? The red-clad assassin figured she was trying to help, but one bear didn't warrant a danger to her life. Even still, she nodded at the command and leapt up, landing firmly on the tiny platform provided for her. "Hello," she greeted, voice as robotic as always. "Thank you for the leverage. Now then, do you mind if I jump off-" She was cut off by the sound of terrible screeching. Looking down, Sable saw the boy with the chains land a direct hit into the bear's collarbone. A sickening crunch rang out, and the bear howled in rage. Moments later, it was pinned down by the formation of massive stone hands, causing another shockwave to ripple the bear's core. The Crimson Streak looked to the side, seeing her fangirl in the aftermath of casting a spell. So that's what it was then. When she turned back, something was notably different about the bear. It did not continue its attack nor did was it aggressive; instead, it raised a claw and struck at the layed stone, freeing itself loosely. At once, it was turning around and fleeing the forest clearing in pain. Sable blinked in confusion before her eyes focused on something else, something that was falling back to the earth. The green Legend Relic. It must have been dislodged from the punch, meaning it wasn't attached to the bear for very long. Without a word to the girl, Sable rocketed downwards in the attempt to catch the treasure. With the bear gone, so too was the danger factor. Now it was a free-for-all for the Relic. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Farther away in Rexicorg, the Drider hissed in pain as Yem's blade struck it underneath. Likewise, it gained some sort of primal satisfaction in knowing that it had clipped him as well. With a heart-pierced screech, it reared back and sprayed a stream of webbing from its rotting maw. It aimed to pin Yem in place, for it knew that once that was accomplished, it could freely go in for the kill. Meanwhile, the black Relic seemed to glow brighter, emitting an afterglow within the flames it resided in. It seemed to be pulsing with power, as if calling out…</s>
<|message|>Yem Yem had no time to think and reacted on instinct. It was all he could do to sacrifice the spear in order to avoid getting caught in the web of the Drider. The weapon got stuck, glued to the sticky thing, and the beast tore it from his hand by twisting its head sideways. Armed now with only a knife, the situation looked grim. He felt the beckoning of the relic in the fire, and let his eyes get drawn to it. The stories said they were full of power, those relics. Power he could probably use now. He still hadn't discerned whether the fire was magical or not, but at this point his options were dwindling fast. He would have to risk the fire, flee the scene or fight the Drider practically unarmed, probably resulting in his death. Yem had no wish to die, and fleeing after having come so close left a bitter taste in his mouth. He would brave it, then, and curse or thank himself later. Now there was only the matter of the Drider and how to distract it. He suddenly turned, as if to flee, and when he was sure the creature was lounging after him, Yem twisted back and threw the dagger at it. The Drider was too distracted with charging to evade in time and was struck by the sharp blade, and so Yem seized the opportunity and dashed for the relic. He could hear the creature screeching behind him as he ran, but it wouldn't be able to catch him before he got there. He realized that he had nothing to grab the amulet with from the fire, but decided to proceed anyway. The flames licked at him as he reached in and snatched it from its place, but the pain was distant, unimportant. The adrenaline was keeping him sharp, and his body was tough when in totem shape. He stared at the relic, unsure what to do with it now that he had it, and watched with mounting terror as the monstrosity came charging at him through the night. Then, just as if he'd known it his entire life, it became apparent. He closed his eyes, and the totem ceased. She opened her eyes and saw the monstrosity before her. It was a simple matter of bending the darkness in front of its eyes in order to escape its charge. The creature stopped and looked about, puzzled, shaking its head and clawing at its face is confusion. She had, meanwhile, produced her bow and was lining up a shot even as the creature was still trying to regain its sight. With a soft twang, the arrow left her bow, and with a quiet thud it embedded itself right between the eyes of the Drider. It gurgled, still more dumbfounded than before, and touched its hand to where the arrow was lodged into its skull. Then it started swaying, mildly first but soon wildly, and finally collapsed in a jumble of chitin and undead flesh. She dismissed the magic with a thought and walked up to the beast. The bowstring hummed once more, another arrow digging into the creatures head, just to make sure it stayed dead this time. The she put her bow away and inspected her surroundings. It was a strange place, this. She recognized it slightly, as if she'd seen it in a dream somewhere, but couldn't place it. Then she looked at her hands, and her feet, and touched her hand to her face. Now this was interesting. Suddenly, there was a tugging sensation in her stomach, and she felt her conscience rapidly fading. She closed her eyes, believing she was about to faint, and then everything went black. He opened his eyes and took a desperate, ragged breath, like if he'd been drowning. That had been… interesting, to say the least. Unexpected, but interesting. He had seen everything, seen how he had killed the monster with a bow he apparently no longer possessed, seen him inspect himself. He hadn't heard himself say anything, or think anything, but he knew somehow that another mind had been in his body. He had done all those things, yes, or at least his body had. This truly was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Pain rushed to greet him, and he grunted as his burned hand and cut back made themselves known to him once more. He would need to rest and heal, preferably somewhere safe. He would have to find a tavern, or a farm with rooms to let. Night or no, he could not stay here.</s>
<|description|>Narza (unable to remember her last name) Physical Form: Chimeric Specter Narza is an amalgamation of a wide variety of souls, brought about by a somewhat mediocre dark mage named Derrik. The dark mage combined, a few dozen tormented human souls, the soul of an innocent young human girl, freshly killed to serve as the catalyst, and three different Elementals, one of Wind, one of Water, and one of Darkness. Dreaming of power and infamy, Derrik aimed to create a fearsome tri-element familiar and make his familiar's personality more easily controlled by using a young girl's soul as the base. While the dark mage succeeded in fusing the souls, one of his more mediocre points showed in his binding abilities. The chimeric spirit broke free and consumed the dark mage the split-second after it was born. Because the chimeric spirit hadn't settled and solidified, it ended up absorbing the dark mage into its core, giving it some of the abilities of the dark mage as well. A battle for dominance over the soul ensued. The dark mage, already weakened by the fusion process, was unanimously dealt with by the other souls. The elementals fell next, overwhelmed by the many insane human souls. With the elementals gone, the tormented souls fell upon each other, tearing each other apart in mindless agony. In the end, only the soul of the young girl, added most recently (aside from the dark mage), was left intact. Her name was Narza. Magic and Abilities: * Invisibility (turn invisible, simple for a ghost) * Incorporeal Form (she actually can't touch things if she tried, currently) * Soul Steal (steal a target's soul, works better on weaker and weakened targets) * Devour soul (grow stronger by consuming a soul, stronger souls are more difficult to consume but are worth more. Slightly increases her magical power.) * Possess Husk(take control of a soulless body. Allows Narza to take a physical form and use that body's magic at a fraction of its strength. She can't preserve its health until stronger.) * Elemental Affinity for Water/Ice * Elemental Affinity for Wind/Air * Flight (ghosts can naturally fly) * Resistant to poison (How would you poison a ghost?) * Soul Sense (Sense souls around Narza, souls have to be sensed before they can be interacted with afterall) * Soul Replacement (put a soul back into a soulless body.) Locked: (until more souls are eaten and she grows stronger) * Soul Scour (rip apart a soul for information. Narza can learn a magic if she rips apart enough souls that know that magic. Also aids in digestion.) * Corporeal Form (become solid, taking any appearance) * Elemental Affinity for Darkness * Soul Fusion (combine stolen souls.) * Lightning (subtype of Wind/Air) Weaknesses: * Fire/Heat * Earth * Holy/Light Magic * Sanctified ground/equipment * Holy Water (somewhat nullified by Water/Ice Affinity) * Due to Narza's Wind/Water/Darkness affinity and spirit body, she's doubly vulnerable to light and heat. She also can't pass through the ground like normal ghosts until she's stronger. Additionally, Narza cannot learn any magic of opposing elements. Has no skill with weapons. Personality: Innocent, naive, and terribly hateful. Has the personality of a young girl, the ambition of a failed dark mage, and the hatred and anger of many dozens of tormented souls. As a former twelve-year old, Narza little knowledge of the world save for the bits absorbed from her shredded inhabitants, but is curious and sharp. She's also spiteful and mischievous, with little moral direction even without factoring in the dark mage in her. When the malice of the tormented souls wrests free of her control as they will from time to time, she'll seemingly lose her temper without warning. Occasionally, she will ask you for your soul out of the blue when her hunger gets to be too much. Wants/Needs: Souls, especially magical ones or those of mages. Relationships: Likes to hang out with fellow spirits such as Narza and Umbra. Backstory: The dark mage Narza consumed left behind a slight sense of loyalty and responsibility to the Dungeon Keeper, so she asked to serve as well, and was accepted. She has inherited the Derrik's possessions, which are: * Basic clothing: Musty dark mage robes, all black and nefarious-looking. And smelling. Narza wouldn't wear them even if she could. (Not that she floats around naked, mind you. She wears what she wore when she died (but will be able to change that later.)) * Basic alchemy set * Alchemy ingredient shelf, poorly stocked (previous owner wasn't big on alchemy) * Ritual circle, high-class but defective (Since Narza was able to break free) * Enchanted storage ring, low level, holding dust, empty alchemy flasks, and dirty clothing (has a capacity space of two square meters) * Basic elemental spell tomes: A beginner's guide to Fire Magic, A beginner's guide to Water Magic, A beginner's guide to Wind Magic, A beginner's guide to Earth Magic, A beginner's guide to Dark Magic (laying in a disorderly pile on the floor.) * Arlog's Thesis on soul-binding - Abridged version (another tome * Binding and Sealing - All you need to take a Familiar (Well leafed magic tome, and frozen solid) * Enchanted dagger, for rituals and self-defense. (Never dulls, and is sharper and tougher than normal. Holds a sinister miasma since it has been immersed in dark magic and taken the lives of many innocents in cold blood. Nothing special though.) * Scrying orb of low quality (See distant locations, but only from far away, or a specific location, but must have been there before.) * Staff of Darkness (An enchanted length of wood that make using dark magic slightly easier. Even a level One mage would start with better gear than this. * Mana-recovery trinkets (Barely worth wearing, and also too gaudy.) * Various spell books (all shelved, that Narza can't get to yet since she isn't corporeal. ) * Enchanted treasure chest (enchanted to resist weather effects and only open to the owner, holding a mix of souls from different races) Other: Would be classified as an Assassin/Mage I suppose. Will do anything for a soul.</s> <|message|>Xallihion A dark figure sits on a throne made out of rock inside one of the abandoned tunnels underneath the Dwarven Outpost. The strange creature is clothed in black robes that cover everything but its head and hands, the head of the creature is like that of a four tentacled octopus with purple skin and pupilless milk white eyes peering at the strange insect that one of its Dwarven mind slaves is approaching with. "My Lord Xallihion, we found a couple of these strange bugs crawling through the tunnel. None of the others know what they are, but they are very easy to kill" The former Dwarven miner will stop about five feet from Xallihion, kneeling down and offering up the dead insect that has a single wound where its head is, obviously from the pickaxe that the Dwarf still has on his hip. Xallihion will lean forward in his stone throne and after a few seconds the Dwarf will hear a voice in his mind, Get rid of the body and kill any others that approach this area, Now. As the Dwarf stands up and bows, Xallihion will lean back in his throne and watches the Dwarf leave and gather the other five Dwarven mind slaves that Xallihion has under his control. It appears someone else is interested in these Dwarves, I could feel the connection between that insect and something stronger than it and far away. With his tentacles moving faster than their normal slow movements, they are the only sign of Xallihion's growing interest in this new player that is coming into his territory, Well then, shall we see who is more suited to being in my service? With that, Xallihion gets more comfortable in his throne and summons a small orb that allows him to see the Dwarven Outpost above him, fully intending to sit back and watch the show in safety and comfort.</s> <|message|>Torrens Igneus On the approach to the town Torrens made an effort to keep a low profile. In the darkness of night, his incandescence was all too plain, and any guards looking anywhere near his direction would certainly notice the glow. With any luck, they would just think it was a normal person carrying a torch and glance over it, although that might be a bit of a stretch of expectations. Stealth was not something he was any good at. Most things to hide behind were rather flammable, so cover was very, very limited. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he started his part of the attack, the better. "Hey, Athinar, how long should I wait before I start burning things?" he asked in hushed tones.</s> <|message|>Athinar Gol-Gaia Athinar looked down on the village, surrounded by his fellow champions of the Master, from a ridge that wasn't that high, but it was far enough away to overlook the town as well. Viewing devices hung from his belt, and one of them was held in a massive palm, spyglass to Athinar's eye. His helmet was on the ground beside him, and he looked around at the town, noting several farmhouses and hunter's cabins in the surrounding area. It would be best if there was a distraction, or if the peasants were all crushed quickly and quietly. The main population was in the village center, and the outliers would be an acceptable loss. However. If the peasants formed a mob, and attracted enough attention from the village, maybe the guards would leave the town. Maybe. There was also a good chance that they would fortify the town as well, and ignore the farmers. However, this would severely affect the morale of the defenders, and make it easier for the attackers to take down a shaken enemy. Tossing the spyglass and other viewing devices to an imp, who had been brought for the sole purpose of carrying the instruments, Athinar clapped his hands together, and pulled his helm on. "We don't have that many frontline fighters, other than those Vorhaas Orcs, and they're barely two hundred strong. We'd be needing three-quarters of those to surround the village, so Torrens and Shukra," he said this with a grimace of mild distaste under his thick metal helm, "Unfortunately, you'll be left with 50 or so Orcs. Not as many as I'd like to send you out with, but still. If used correctly, we'll be able to accomplish our objectives." Looking Torrens over, appraising him, Athinar looked back at the town. "Every moment you stay out here, the greater the chance that some peasant will notice you. I'd like you to draw attention to one of the outlying farms. If a fire starts, and a family is killed inside, or even better, if there's a survivor, it'll draw those sheep-shaggers together like a moth to their filthy lamps. Their sense of community is commendable, if foolish." Turning to Shukra, Athinar pointed out several of the other farmhouses. "Listen, I want your Orcs to ambush anyone foolish enough to go rushing through the woods, or leave the gate, to go help. There are several areas where the woods appear to be thicker, so they would be excellent ambush sites. While this is happening, my team will gain one of the gates on the east side of town, and head towards the temple. Azavarn, feel free to roam and make any deals that you feel would be appropriate to help the cause. Also, as we discussed earlier, the remaining Orcs will surround the town, catching any runaways, and preventing any help from arriving. Torrens, wait for us to get in position to execute the plan, before you burn down the house. Narza, you will tell Torrens when to start, and then come immediately back. Azavarn, to start off, I'd go to the tavern, or barracks." The grin on his mask matched his face, under the metal casing. "Should be FILLED with your sort of people." Athinar stood up, saying, "Head out. And BE CAREFUL to not draw attention before you need to." Athinar then started to run at a speed that few long-distance couriers could match, loping pace reminding some of a vicious wolf, or other predator. If the others weren't right behind him, well, he would enjoy this all himself. Something stirred inside the man. It was not noticeable yet, but over the course of the battle, he would find his need for blood to increase, and his patience fray. This might affect the viciousness of his plans, but it wouldn't interfere with his judgement.</s> <|message|>Torrens Igneus Torrens nodded on receiving his orders. "You can count on me." As the group began to split Torrens gave a casual salute and descended to the farms, approaching the indicated house. He had spied out the area beforehand from the ridge, and had spotted what appeared to be a ditch not too far from his target. As such, he sprinted along a path, his pace unhampered by the need of oxygen or chemical energy, and slid into the ditch, finding it a bit muddy but not full of water, which was alright. In the ditch, which should provide ample cover, he lay on his back and waited. The mud around him dried almost instantly, and after a short while the dirt began to melt, although the glow from that wasn't any brighter than his own, so he stayed put and got comfortable. Although he wanted to move out and burn stuff as soon as possible, Torrens knew he had to wait for the signal from Narza, and so wait he did.</s> <|message|>Cold stare The wind stirred some of the branches below the weeping tree. The leaves and surrounding grass started to turn brown and wither. Slowly the shadow grew and began to take shape. A image of a warrior in old styled armor became less transparent and a sword of smoke grew from his left hand. The face was a dark shadow under a ragged hood. This image of a nightmare born of mens fear grew denser. It could feel the impending evil descending on this area. Like the eye of pure hate burning the towns soul. Whether or not the inhabitants were aware was irrelevant. Death had come to them like a murder of crows to the smell of carrion. It knew now was the time. It descended into one of the farming villages closest to the town, greeted by the brief shrills of fear. The sword pierced their souls ignoring the meat. Their hearts stopped and their lips turned blue. The flesh on their bodies turned putrid and a dark green. His image looked real except for the space between his feet and the ground...</s>
<|message|>Narza (unable to remember her last name) Narza listens with surprising focus as Athinar gives his orders. Typically she would be goofing off in the background, staying invisible so no one could chide her for insubordination, but after the incident just before the crew had left, Narza was considerably more wary of Athinar now. She nods carefully at Athinar as she receives her orders, watching his soul anxiously for any sign of a change. The presence he had briefly shown earlier felt instinctively more dangerous than anything else she'd felt before, save probably the Master himself. Athinar continues speaking without so much as a slight perturbation and Narza relaxes. She keeps pace behind Athinar easily as they move toward the one of the gates, floating silently and invisibly over the grass. She leaves a few wisps of fog around her body to let the others know where she was roughly. It would be easy enough to spot up close, but impossible to make out from a distance.</s>
<|description|>Mari Kougami Receiver: Age: 16 Gender: Female Appearance: What's with this atmosphere...? She's a modest 5'6" high, if a comparison's needed. Personality: Mostly indifferent to the world and it's machinations, Mari has time and time again gone out of her way to avoid anything that she might consider a hassle; everything from relationships to arguments to socializing is a no-go on her list. However, by that same train of thought, she's become good at reading the mood and knowing when to try and slip out. Well, among normal people, at least. Otherwise, she's relatively antisocial by most standards and doesn't interact with people unless necessary. She's not lazy, despite her demeanor might lead a person to assume; no, rather, she's a person who prioritizes the most spectacular results in the most efficient manner possible above all else. No cutting corners, no slacking off, no nothing. Skills: Mari works well as a strategist, able to refine most details of a situation into a victory... Well, barring any unforeseen circumstances. She can also get a feel for whatever is happening around her at a given time and use that information to her advantage... Which usually means slipping away as quietly as possible. Other than being an analyst, she's also pretty good at strategy games of all sorts. Video games included. Brief Backstory: With her father being a banker and her mother working overseas at a law firm, Mari's life has been one of both solitude and of self-reliance. Money was by no means scarce, of course, but with her habits the way they were, there was never any need to actively buy anything superficial. She craved something interesting, though; whatever would stir up creativity, problem-solving, and so on and so forth; video games were entertaining for a while, but it often felt like those never put up enough of a challenge; no, in fact, the more she spent on them, the easier they felt. Regular board games, crossword puzzles, and so on and so forth... Nothing. Being marked as a Receiver, though, was nowhere near what she had been prepared for. Now, a life spent avoiding people had to transition into a life spent perpetually around someone... Probably just to exist and enable them. Well, maybe there would be something interesting waiting for her there instead. Tuner: N/A Tuner: Name: James Zhen Age: 16 Gender: Male Appearance: At a decent 5'9" tall, James is... Well, pretty average in terms of appearance. His black hair, seldom done up or anything of the sort, usually makes him look like he just woke up from a nap; his tendency to look uninterested in topics only makes the stereotype even worse (even though that isn't always the case). Often times, he'll be seen wearing a grey t-shirt and jeans, and maybe a black jackets if he decides the weather to be cold enough to warrant it. His body is a tad on the leaner side, with not much muscle nor fat to speak of. Personality: Unlike what most people would expect, James is a very outspoken person, often directly clashing with people who he doesn't quite agree with. With that in mind, though, he's perfectly fine with a debate as compared to a shouting contest, and is willing to cede points that have been proven to counter his claims. Hardworking and intelligent (a byproduct of his parents' teaching methods), James much prefers espionage and intelligence over 'honor' and 'strength' and other such outdated ideals. A modern era necessitates a modern mindset, after all. Type: Weapon Abilities: N/A Weapon: Three, actually. James is able to swap between a sniper rifle, a set of dual pistols (two of these), and a desert eagle, all of which are essentially pulled from the Aether. The bullets themselves can be given different effects, such as increased penetration, homing, or paralysis, but their strength and variety is limited only by the Synch Ratio and his imagination. Bullet effects can't be stacked unless he's really in tune with his Receiver, though. Skills: James' reaction speed is... Impressive, to say the least. While he may not have any particular physical strength, his agility and on-the-fly decisionmaking skills are what really help him avoid getting hit. As a byproduct, he's also really good at sightreading music scores. Oh, and he plays the violin. That's something. Brief Backstory: Born and raised by a pair of Chinese immigrants to America, James had the usual set of things piled onto him: mandatory good grades, the ability to play an instrument, and so on and so forth. He made it work, though; managing to relax with his friends while getting through school was a miracle in and of itself. By some twist of fate, though, he ended up testing positive for Tuner abilities. To the jealousy of his friends, James ended up being shipped off to the Academy (thank you, government funding). The shift was strange, yes, but so long as he could deal with the whole 'raising parents' thing with this he didn't have any complaints. Standard East Asian lifestyle and all that. Receiver: N/A</s> <|message|>Kazuko Kenzaki Kazuko Kenzaki Instead of listening to the boring speech, Kazuko glanced at the many other new students around her. There were quite a variety of people. There were those who were listening intently to whatever the old man in front had to say, there were others dozing off, some were hard to read and several seem irritated by something. Though Kazuko herself was slightly annoyed needing to listen to the speech, she knew it could not be helped since it was the entrance ceremony. She could not miss it anyways since she wanted to start class quickly. Hopefully there is no orientation or anything... Kazuko had not attended school for the past five years after her parents' death instead home-schooled by her guardian who currently resides overseas leaving her to take care of herself. She hoped the teachers were competent since they were posted to this specific academy for educating Tuners and Receivers. Kazuko wondered what her ability would be and wished it would be something destructive. She looked at her hands which she clenched in a fist. Before she realized it, everybody had gotten up and heard something people murmuring going to room 4-B downstairs. Kazuko quickly got up from her seat and went with the other new students. Her power is determined by how strong the bond she has with her receiver. Hopefully, she gets someone she can work with since she hates it if her partner is a freaking slacker and a burden to her.</s> <|message|>Maki Rika Maki Rika Finally. That disorganized, klutzy-looking, kind of... well, very unathletic woman managed to shyly announce where they had to go. Rika instantly felt absolutely zero respect for her after than entrance, but at the very least she seemed to know where everyone had to go. Arms folded firmly across her chest, Rika turned and began to try and move through the crowd of people. Immediately this became a struggle, as to her irritation nearly everyone was taller than her. She found, every once in a while as she tried to walk, someone would bump into her or brush against her. Many of them didn't even notice. Her irritation grew as she walked, attempting to give a few centimeters of distance between her and anyone else. There were so many people, however, it made it difficult for the small girl to avoid being bumped into. They were all stupid jerks.... If Rika got paired with any of the people who had bumped into her, she'd call it off immediately. Obviously someone like that wouldn't help her at all. The hallways were fairly wide, but not really intended for a large crowd, and therefore as they passed into them and headed downstairs the students were forced to crowd together. Naturally, this served to annoy Rika even further. "Hmph, all these idiots who can't watch where they're going..." she glared at the people around her, even as they continued downstairs. It wasn't long until they reached room 4B. It wasn't quite the same as the rest of the school. Here the hallways were wider and more clinical, marking it as a portion of the Academy devoted to research rather than education. The doors were steel and opened as they approached. Room 4B was large, expansive, and the far wall was covered in various consoles, and a large window. Beyond there were various forms of equipment, and desks, though no-one was present there at the moment. Of course, Rika was more concerned about what this had to do with getting her Receiver. She wanted someone who would listen, help her, and understand they didn't need to be stupid or dumb or... whatever! --- Tomoe Miki ... Really, it was just too much... at least she could take the elevator this time. Miki trembled as she road it downwards. Okay, she could take a deep breath and... calm. Calm. They'd already seen her and... all been looking at her from every angle silently judging her... But no, no, no, she... she had a job to do! If she could just... ignore the crowd of students and speak normally everything would be fine! Yeah... just fine, completely and totally fine... Miki trembles. No matter what she tries to make herself think, she feels as if no matter how much she assures herself nothing at all will be fine. It never is. She's always late every year... it's not her fault she was busy! ... Well... busy did mean playing games or watching anime and losing track of the time... and today it also meant tripping and knocking a lamp on the ground when she was getting ready... And last year it meant... and the year before... Anxiety plagued the woman's mind, and she nearly missed the fact that the elevator doors had opened right in front of her. Realizing she could leave, she hesitated for several moments, before folding her arms and shuffling out into the hall. She did this every year. Every year it was just too cruel, but she had to do it... she had to... The side door opened, and slowly she walked in. They were all there. "... H-hello, new students, e-er... A-as you, know, um," she began. Now it was even harder to feel like they might not be looking at her... "... A-as you know, Tuners and Receivers need one another, s-so... y-you're here to be paired up! The r-results will be availiable shortly, so, er... p-please mingle among yourselves wh-while you wait! Ah-hahahah..." Shifting her feet awkwardly, Miki looked to the side. "... O-or... a-ask me questions I guess..." It was unfortunate, really, that her job was both research and to address the students. But... at least this was the only time of the year she had to do this with them in such numbers... --- Kudou Chie "It never fails, she's late every year," replied Chie. She watched as the new students began to file. It seemed she was too late... Oh, well, she could get to know them later, couldn't she. "Sometimes I wonder about Tomoe-sensei. She seems like she has a lot of trouble getting here on time... every single year. I wonder what she's doing." She shrugged. "Oh, well, we should probably go and get our dorm situated before they bring us in to test our Synch Ratios." It happened every year. New students got paired, old students got some time to settle into their dorms before going to see if their Synch Ratios had changed. Pairs shared a dorm, even if they were of the opposite sex. Thankfully each room had two seperate, smaller rooms attached for changing clothing, in case of such a situation. Generally, surprisingly, things worked out decently well this way. As far as Chie understood, it was determined that maximum social contact between the two partners was the best way to ensure a relationship developed that would increase their Synch Ratios.</s>
<|message|>Mari Kougami James was irked by the seemingly-feeble nature of the researcher handling the organization of everything here. What, there wasn't anyone else available to rein everyone in? Nobody with a more... You know, confident atmosphere around them or something? ... Well, guess they were short on personnel or some shit like that. Only logical conclusion he could arrive at. "Ugh, what a pain..." he groaned, sighing and shaking his head as the giant crowd of students seemed to stabilize around him. At least he wasn't being tossed around like a ship lost on tumultuous seas... Or some analogy to that extent. Whatever. "So... Matched with a partner, huh? Man, this could get ugly..." Hopefully, whatever person he got paired with wasn't... Well, too annoying. He could be a bitch to deal with at times, yeah, but someone like that might only aggravate the situation. Socializing now was too much of a hassle, anyways; too many people, too many faces to remember... And a possibility of never seeing them again. Yeah, no thanks. --- Too. Many. People. That was really all that Mari could think of, and it was what she hated the most about this whole ordeal. It was so much more packed in here than it was where she was before, and all the close contact and being pushed and shoved and crushed by complete strangers didn't exactly help. At all. Slowly slipping through the crowd as it seemed to come to a halt in the middle of this room (which she could very easily liken to a chicken coop or something like that), Mari made her way to whatever seemed to be the least crowded location in the room from her perspective and... Well, waited for the worst to come to pass. A partner, though... Hrm. Results? So people wouldn't pick her, nor would she, them. That... Could prove to be interesting. Or miserable. Maybe both. Who could tell?</s>
<|description|>Dotazaic Nobleforge Appearance: Heavily built, even for a dwarf; broader at the shoulder than almost his entire clan. Long brown hair and a typical dwarvish beard frame his scarred and weary face, with his hard and calculating green eyes being the first thing that people tended to notice about him. One could hardly call him handsome any more, but he had a certain rugged charm back in his youth, and remnants of that remain in his face still, though he doesn't charm the barmaids like he used to. Alhough he may be a caster, no true dwarf is averse to brawling and physical work, and so beneath his loose grey robes, Dotazaic is just as muscular as you'd expect a dwarf of his age to be. Aside from scars from injuries over the years, he has managed to avoid any serious injury so far, and has no real standout markings to identify him, which has served him well in some of his less savory lines of work. Finally, the clothes he typically wears are in true dwarven style: A full length grey robe, hemmed at the sleeves and neck with simple but eye-catching gold filigree, and cinched at the waist with a thick leather belt which proudly displayed the emblem of his clan. A full length travelling cloak in a slightly darker grey and a matching hooded mantle completed his regular travelling gear, with his heavy leather boots being practically standard issue for all dwarves. Age: 186 Gender: Male Race: Dwarf Class: Arcane Caster Magic Description: Abjuration Specialist Personality: Dwarves are hardly jovial while sober at the best of times, and Dotazaic is an excellent example of the stoicism of the dwarvish race as a whole. Outbursts of emotion are very rare for him, and he tends to deal with life as it comes to him, dealing with things one step at a time in the only way he knows. His long years of life have only strengthened this trait in him, in a way that only seeing the worst of the world first hand can do. Slow to trust and slower to become friendly, Dotazaic now has few people left who he can truly call friend, and has lived the twilight years of his life interacting with strangers only when it was strictly necessary. However, once he chooses to put his trust in a fellow being, he is a loyal and reliable companion, and expects the best of his fellows, both on the battlefield and off it. Who you were: Born to a minor family of the Nobleforge clan, Dotazaic showed aptitude for magic from an early age. Schooled privately by the resident sorcerer, he quickly mastered the fundamentals of Arcane magic, showing particular strength when it came to the field of Abjuration. At the same time, he also learnt traditional dwarvish skills, such as how to use axes, hammers, and polearms, as well as how to craft with metal (although this was never one of his strong points). Reaching the traditional age of majority, Dotazaic set out into the world in order to hone his skills and find his calling in life. Unfortunately, not everything went as planned for the young dwarf, and he unknowingly trusted all the wrong people and found himself both deep in debt, and also much too deep into what he only realized too late was a criminal organization. Rather than bring shame on his clan for his involvement, he chose to leave the country as quietly as he could in order to let the relevant people forget; after all, there was no question that he would outlive the majority of those to whom he owed money. And so, joining a caravan as a guard, he set off for distant lands. Along the way he would find his teacher, an elf by the name of Infineon. Despite the initial friction between the two of them, they each found things they respected in each other, and so Dotazaic spent some years with his teacher, learning more and more about the topic of Abjuration until his teacher declared that any guild in the world would be happy to declare him a master of the class. Having nothing more to learn, Dotazaic bid farewell to his teacher and continued his travels, using his variety of worldly knowledge to keep him alive, though not always above the law. Now, finally, he is returning to his homeland once more, just over 140 years since he left it. Feeling the need to make amends to his clan for his disappearance and to settle down for the last years of his life, his home called out to him, and he could no longer bring himself to stay away. Before he could reach his home however, he became embroiled in a rather sticky situation, and is now finding his dwarvish body being put to good use deep in the mines of a prison camp...</s> <|message|>NPC List As your group runs forth, mustering the strength to sprint across the last quarter of a mile, you hear the sounds of swordplay behind you. Tychus seems to be holding his own against these two assailants. In fact, if you dare to look behind you, you can see that he is actually beating them back. Perhaps they aren't as dangerous as they originally seemed? He's able to hold the duo back long enough for you to get into the thicket of the rocky land in front of you. It's a winding maze of barren scaling cliffs and sharp crags. Fortunately, there is a clear yet narrow pathway for you to follow. The party keeps moving, eyes on the lookout for what Tychus was referring to. The path eventually runs out, ending in a narrow crevice that you shimmy through, but only one at a time. Looking through the darkness, you can't make anything out, but you do smell a lingering scent of fire, as if someone had been camping within this cave. The old man immediately comes to mind, and you can guess that this is probably where Tychus stayed before he came to free you all. He said that answers lay through here, but what could that possibly mean? Suddenly, like a crack of thunder, you hear a howl of agony behind you. Tychus skims across the path that led you to the crevice, blasted by some foreign power to about 400 yards behind you. The man looks to be alive, but just barely. His right arm hangs from sinew, blood gushing out onto the soil. Pained, the elderly man looks at you all and waves you on with his intact arm, trying to say words but unable to speak. "Ivory, after the prisoners. I'll finish off that pathetic man." the soft voice of the white haired woman boomed. On command, the giant knight rushes onto the scene. Like a gigantic bull, he lowers a shoulder and appears to be aiming to dash you all against the cliff walls. Tychus can't respond fast enough to protect you all, and you have moments to shimmy as fast you can away from the knight. By the looks of it, if you manage to squeeze through and avoid him, he would be too large to get through the entrance. If you manage to shoot a glance back in your rush, you see the female bounty hunter approach the struggling Tychus. He rises once more, his severed arm finally snapping from the sinew and falling to the ground. Nonetheless, he pulls out his last knife and lunges at the woman. As he strikes, some sort of sorcery envelops the elderly man, pushing out from his form before they vanish into a dark smog. Unable to see any more, you can only ponder on the old man's fate.</s> <|message|>Horace Upland Horace couldn't allow himself to run at full tilt until he was certain everyone was coming with him. Gods' sake, no one else here but their benefactor was even human, but still he couldn't stop himself from caring about the others. Whether they were orcish or elven or a strange, little pixie bug, they were bound by what they'd been through at that damned labor camp. Without having the slightest clue to anyone's nature in this colorful assembly, it was nearly impossible to predict what anyone was going to do. To his enormous relief, they seemed as willing to listen to the old man's orders as he was. Confident that his escape was a matter of obedience, and not cowardice, Horace let go of his doubts and hesitation. He had plenty of encouragement. "Ow! What?!" The insect did speak, and it was making a nest in his hair. "Protect you? Who do you—ow, hey! You're pulling my hair! I'm going!" Fairy, that's what she was. Horace had read about them. Mischief makers, magical and rare. What had she been doing at the labor camp? "I don't wanna die here, either!" Bringing up the tail of the group, Horace tried very hard not to listen to the fighting behind him while he sprinted toward the rocks. The crags pushed closer together, and for a moment he feared a dead end, but the path seemed to continue through narrow walls. Horace leaned his head forward, looking around the others and becoming intrigued by the opening of the cave. The smell of cold smoke wafted from inside. It must have been where the old man was taking them. A deafening crack behind them shook him out of his fascination, and Horace glanced back to see the armored knight charged forward. Beyond them was the old man—on the ground, broken and bleeding. The only man who'd helped him in the past few weeks, the only one who could offer him any answers about any of this! "Wait! Wait, you can't!" The knight was closing in and Horace knew he had to get to safety, but panic and confusion froze him in place. "You can't die!" Not yet! "Who are you? Who are any of you?!"</s>
<|message|>Dotazaic Nobleforge Dotazaic almost gasped with relief when he saw the cave entrance. The stint in the prison camp had done nothing to improve his already below average stamina for running, and just trying to keep up with the rest of the long-legged folk had left him sorely out of breath. Not to mention that the whole time there had been the constant sounds of steadily approaching conflict from behind them; a constant reminder of the lethal danger that the group was still in. The crevice called to him, speaking of safety and comfort, and a last burst of energy brought him up to the cliff face to join the faster members of the group who had got there first. Seeing them all wasting time looking at the fight going on behind him, he snuck a glance over his shoulder, just in time to see Tychus get sent flying, with blood pouring out of an almost severed arm. He knew what that wound meant, particularly against foes such as these; their benefactor would almost certainly never see another dawn. Turning back to the crevice as their female aggressor gave orders to the knight, Dotazaic heard the human just behind him falter and begin panicking. He knew instinctively that if this man froze here in panic or fear, he would certainly die. Action needed to be taken, and he'd be damned if he'd leave this stupid stilt here to die. Drowning out the human's ramblings, Dotazaic's powerful dwarven voice filled the canyon, "ALL OF YOU. INTO THAT CREVICE. GO." Turning back without waiting to see if they'd heard, he applied all his remaining energy to trying to drag the presently motionless human back towards the hole, shouting at him as he did so. "NOT THE TIME, LAD. LIVE NOW, ASK QUESTIONS LATER." Dotazaic just hoped they'd make it in time before their heavily armored friend rocked up. He really didn't want to have to leave this human to die, but if that's what it took to survive then he would not hesitate for even a moment. No stranger was worth giving up his life for, no matter who they had supposedly killed.</s>
<|description|>Korian Gender: Male Race: Human Initial Power Level (High tier- 1000-1800; Other tiers- 1-900): 1200 Techniques (Ex. Kamehameha, Special Beam Cannon): 1: Piercing Fist: Korian shapes his Ki into an aura around his fist(or another body part) as he uses it to attack an enemy, enhancing the damage done. 2: Spirit Blast: Korian charges a large amount of Ki in one hand, then fires it in a green beam towards the enemy. Does a significant amount of damage, but takes time to charge up 3: Super Ki Beam: A Kamamaha-like technique with a similar charge-up time(Roshi's DB version) and effect. Drains Korian of most of his Ki, so is commonly used as a last-resort technique. 4: Basic Ki Usage: Standard Beams/Blasts, with Flight, ki-hiding, and Energy Charging also falling under this. He fights with a self-developed martial style, made from altering moves found in various common styles, so as to throw his opponent off-guard with the altered move. He has also trained himself well in using improvised weaponry, for quick situations. Personality: Korian is generally friendly to those at first, only growing to dislike someone based on prolonged contact. He can be somewhat of a jokester, and even a bit cocky, based on his performances at the most recent World Martial Arts tournament, where he made it to the Semi-Finals. But in all things considered, he's a kind soul.</s> <|message|>Blizzard Blizzard stood and watched as the crowd roared for the competitors. "Well this is annoying." He knew the tournaments were big but not like this. As people walked by, thy gave him strange looks. His race was extremely rare among earth. Blizzard has actually never met another member of his race since he came to earth. Blizzard pushed the thought to the back of his head as he looked around. He was the ref for the tournament this year. He looked at the names that showed up on the roster. He didn't really recognize the names as he didn't take up much interest in the tournament. "These people must be pretty strong to be competing in a world tournament. I wonder what kind of people I'll see out there." He fixed his clothing. He didn't like the fact that he had to wear the official referee clothing but it was a need. He always preferred the armor he grew from his skin. It was always more comfortable. He walked out onto the arena ring and waited. The eyes of quite a few people turned toward him. Not only was he a alien, but he also was a rather large figure who looked like he could compete in the tournament as well. He waited for the announcer to speak the names the first two competitors. Blizzard listened as the crowd went wild. The announcer walked out of the ring and Blizzard stepped forward. He looked at the two fighters. "Listen up. I want a good clean fight. You know the rules, otherwise you wouldn't be here. I stress that there is no killing. If you do so, you will be disqualified and met with the authorities. I wish you a good fight and good luck. The match will start when you here the ringing of what will sound like a bell. You may not strike your opponent before that sound. Do your best and give it your all and you can win the title of worlds best." Blizzard gained distance from the fighters and waited for the fight to start.</s> <|message|>Glacia Already in the locker rooms was Glacia, hiding in plain sight. She was suspended from the ceiling by her three clawed feet, observing the competition. It wasn't that she particularly enjoyed the fighting, although a ood brawl once in a while wasn't a bad idea, but she was getting bored. The humans were too gullible and easily fell victims to her schemes, presenting no challenge. This place though seemed to attract what sparse aliens were on this blue rock. There was even one of her own kind here. What caught her attention though was a delicious looking blob of animated bubble gum looking out one of the windows. Silently making her way over, Glacia let her tail down and gave the strange being a poke on the left shoulder, while trying to set up for a scare on the opposite side when they would look away.</s> <|message|>Korian Korian had been surprised to see that he was up first, but too much. He noted that not many of the fighters from the last tournament, the one he had competed in, made it to this, which he found odd. After the announcer gave the introduction for the tournament, he paced out to the arena with a slow jog. When he stepped out onto the ring, a portion of the crowd gave a large cheer, and he gave a wave to the crowd. He stepped to one side of the ring, and his opponent, who appeared to be a newer fighter, stepped onto the other side. He bowed to his opponent as the referee listed off the major rules. Standing to wait for the bell-tone, he crouched into a fighting stance.</s> <|message|>Majin Eve. (Eve for short) Majin Eve was humming a soft tune as she watched the referee walk out to the ring, she had to raise a curious brow at the referee's appearance, another person who didn't look human, and he looked pretty strong too. 'is he fighting first?' Eve thought to herself before she seen two other fighters approach the ring and getting ready to battle, which confused her a little. 'so, is it a three way battle?' Before she could continue on the thought she felt what she thought to be someone tapping her left shoulder. "huh?" She turned her head to the left to try and see whoever it was trying to get her attention, but had to raise a slightly confused brow when she found no one standing to her left. 'but... someone just... weird' Eve stared for a second or two before concluding that whoever had poked her had ran away, either that or someone had tossed something at her and it bounced off her before she could see what was thrown, with a slight shrug and a small smile she looked back at out the window. She was about to start humming again but something was pulling to get her attention from her peripheral vision to her right, as she turned her head to her right to find out what she was seeing, her eye's widened in surprise from the sight directly before her. Because of whoever was standing so close to her it forced Eve to flinch slightly as she took a step back to take in the persons appearance, though she was surely surprised by the sudden appearance she didn't really feel scared by it, after a few good long seconds her surprised expression quickly vanished as she got a better look at what she believed to be a girl standing beside her. 'she almost kind of looks like the guy standing in the ring in the striped shirt' Eve thought to herself before a small smile came to her lips. "hi there" She said in a friendly tone as she took a step back to give the girl some space. "I didn't see you in here before, did you just enter?" Eve asked in a curious tone, her smile still evident on her.</s> <|message|>Glacia Before, Glacia intended to make a face, noise or something to add a touch to the scare, but in time realized a surprised punch to the face form about any of these people would mess up her pretty face. That she did not want. What she wanted was to find something interesting, and she now had an undivided attention of a member of a race she didn't see anywhere else on Earth. Ah, success~ Now that she had a few still seconds of eye-to-eye (And what magnificent, ensnaring black and red eyes they were!), she figured her earlier bubble gum analogy wasn't exactly matching - she was more like jello, if anything. Fighting the urge to grab a bite of the pink alien, Glacia returned the greeting: "Hello there, delicious lookin'." Letting loose of her legs, she fluidly flipped down from the ceiling and landed smoothly in front of Eve. "Name's Glacia. I've been hanging around." the changeling said, checking the arena from the corner of her eyes. Not her turn yet. Good. "Wanna go watch?" she asked, her tail swirling behind her.</s> <|message|>Shen Laozen Wow... Shen's first tournament seemed breath-taking to him. Shen watched under the competitor's waiting area at one of the spectator screens showing the Korian fight. Korian looked strong, and a bit scary too. If Shen got to fight him, he'd be honoured. The tournament had been quite interesting with not many big names. All's Shen had to do for now is practice. However, he's been way more interested on the fights so far and especially awaited this one.</s> <|message|>Majin Eve. (Eve for short) Majin Eve couldn't help but blush slightly at what she believed to be a compliment as Glacia dropped down from the ceiling, thought it would be hard to notice her blushing considering the fact she was pink, Eve's eye's followed Glacia's to the arena as she announced her name to her. "Glacia? that's a pretty name" Eve said honestly before she looked back to the changeling. "my name's Majin Eve" She said sweetly before Glacia asked if she wanted to go watch the next fight, she thought about it for a moment before smiling. "sure" She answered kindly, lightly holding her hands behind her back. 'I wonder what she is, she's certainly not human, humans don't have snow white skin or tails' Eve thought to herself as she absent mindedly looked at Glacia's tail before looking back up to the changeling's eye's. Though Eve liked Glacia's red eye's, she wouldn't be lying if she said she felt they were kind of intimidating to look at, she didn't think on it further as her attention was brought to her hair, it was defiantly neat, the purple part seemed to be made of crystal, Eve honestly didn't know if it was actually hair or some kind of crystal hair piece. 'she's defiantly interesting that's for sure'</s> <|message|>Glacia "Awwwww, you say the nicest things!" Glacia sung at her name being complimented. This person she already liked - Assuming they wouldn't meet in a match, then that could be a problem. She was not in business of hitting her minions. But then again, this was sport right? No hard feelings! She pretended not to notice the eyes wandering all over her, although she put a bit more sway into her hips and tail. She was, after all, the best creation of the God to ever live. A stone shaped to the physical perfection. who was she to prevent others from falling in awe at the sight? She tried how her company's name rolled off of her tongue. "Majin Eeeeeeve. It sounds like... well I have no idea, a snack maybe. You know, you're watching the movies and 'Pass the Eves'!" she giggled, giving Eve a bit of a hungry look: "OK, I have to ask, I love candy, you look like candy, are you made out of candy?" she continued, speaking at machine gun rate. Once the question was asked she paused, looking at Eve full of expectations, her eyes betraying a childish curiosity.</s> <|message|>Majin Eve. (Eve for short) Eve giggled at the way Glacia first pronounced her name, but her giggling was stopped when Glacia said her name sounded like some kind of snack, she raised a confused brow towards Glacia as she continued to speak. 'I've never heard of a food named after me before...' She thought to herself before she noticed the hungry look she was receiving from Glacia, it made her take a slight step back. 'why is she looking at me like that?' Eve asked herself in thought before Glacia asked her question, about if she was made of candy. Eve honestly couldn't tell if she should be worried about why the question was asked or contemplating what she was actually made out of. Either way she unconsciously gulped as she looked at her hands before her, opening and closing them, a child like grin came to her as she closed her eye's and scratched the back of her head with her right hand. "I don't know" She answered with a lighthearted chuckle before she lowered her hand and opened her eyes with a calm smile. "but I know I can turn things into candy, it's pretty cool, whenever I want something to eat I just look at something and poof! it turns into something I want to eat" Eve said innocently, like it was the most normal thing in the world to her.</s> <|message|>Vadim Vadim was just getting comfortable in the stands when he felt a rather hard object hit him in the top of the head with a somewhat hollow boink. When he turned around to see who had assaulted him in such a manner, he was surprised to see his good friend Lucas Farley with a large bucket of popcorn standing behind him. "Lucas! Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. What are you doing?" he asked with a grin. Lucas smiled back at his long-time friend. "I signed up for the tournament, of course. What else?" "Really? Wow, that's quite the shocker. You haven't entered a tournament in years." "Yeah, well, Farley's back, baby. I'm ready to show these good people my new moves." Lucas's smile never broke, but their conversation was. There was a beeping sound from the large screen on the wall in the arena that called for all fighters to report to their assigned rings to square off with their first opponent. The time for resting and other shenanigans was in the past. Now, it was time to get to business. "Good luck out their, Vadim. Try to make it far enough that we get to square off, because I am so looking forward to that!" Lucas jabbed before jogging off to the arena number marked next to his name on the screen. "You can count on it," Vadim responded before turning and heading the opposite way toward his own ring. Time to bust a move.</s> <|message|>Shen Laozen Shen Laozen whipped around when he heard his own name being called out. He took one deep breath as he closed his eyes and then opened them when he exhaled. "I guess this is it." He thought. He followed the man who called him and walked out into an arena. His opponent stood on the other side, a big brute of a man who seemed to have more brawn over brains. Shen put his right fist into left hand, letting the fingers overlap the top of his fist and he bowed to the opponent. The man scoffed at the gesture and took a stance. Shen took his own stance, standing sideways with his left foot forward, his right foot further back and outwards. His right hand was near his upper torso laid out flat whereas his left fist was positioned midway through his torso. The referee went over the rules which Shen nodded to acknowledge. This was going to be fun.</s>
<|message|>Korian Korian's fight had begun. His opponent rushed him, and Korian easily side-stepped, sending an elbow jab into his opponents back. The newbie doubled over, before turning around and trying to send a punch at Korian's face. Korian ducked, sweeping his leg into his opponent's, knocking him over. The man fell into a roll, standing back up a few feet away from Korian. Korian surprised him by sending a Ki beam in his direction. The man caught the Ki blast in the stomach, nearly falling out of the ring. Korian lept at him with lightning speed, catching him off guard as he delivered a kick to the man's chin, sending him flying out of the ring, crashing to the ground with a thud. Korian bowed again, then started to head back to the waiting area.</s>
<|description|>C-X 00 "Cecil" Age: 8 months since prime activation Gender: None, goes by the male pronoun Race: Machina model based on Mura Appearance: Built to appear friendlier and to avoid damage through physical abuse, Cecil was built to appear as close to a Mura youngster under the assumption people would be less inclined to hurt a child. Standing at 4'8" he has a surprising weight in his arms and legs while the rest of his body is lightweight and durable. His arms and legs can be removed to change his clothing while the strap across his chest can be unbuckled from the front. Element Affinity: N/A Magic: Self-technopathy – Cecil can attach machinery onto his body and control it. Gear: Power gauntlets used by construction and repair Machina upgraded to the highest spec. Comes with a self-service kit. Cecil's boots allow him to run vertically on surfaces and walk upside-down through the release of magnetic currents. He can't run or walk like this on wood and vibrations can cause him to fall. Brief history: Part of an experimental range of Machina that are designed to be able to blend in with normal people. Designed to limit Helpers from being damaged, Cecil was due to be released and established as a builder who would help with construction; however, Cecil held little interest in being one of these and seemingly escaped. The exact circumstances of his escape are unknown, even to him as the last memory he has was being out in the great wild world. The programming within him probably knew what he was doing here so the surprise to be had was not massively overwhelming. Cecil felt he had a purpose if he was being sent to this side of the realm and immediately he was off looking for it, searching for what he was programmed to fulfil. Completely unaware of the troubles and even the Church of the land, his outlook was naïve at best. He was a hard working Machina, he knew that much, and to find what he needed to do was his top priority. He knew how to read but couldn't write, if questioned about his looks he felt he knew the answer, telling people they were for construction work. Those travelling would rarely question him and would either be curious about the maker of his Machina to which would only confuse him. Cecil didn't know much about this world but learning it from travellers proved fruitful. He learned that people used machinery quite commonly and people didn't appear to know he was just the same as that machinery. Learning from these people was proving to be educational, but he still had some questions that needed answering. Any other Machina he came across and tried to talk to didn't have any sort of leverage for conversation, as if they didn't have a mind like him and was simply 'following the program'. Whether he was following his program or his own curiosity he couldn't quite tell, but he had to find some answers somewhere in his own time. To explore the world and find what he needed to do was his first objective. Additional info: Despite being a machine, there appears to be something off about this new model of Machina. If the personality he had didn't give enough suspicion, it was almost as if he was more than simply a new design, almost as if he was assimilating a sentient being without internal programming needed.</s> <|message|>Ethan Campbell Amuné waking up by screaming herself hoarse gave everyone a bit of a fright, but thankfully there didn't seem to be any real problem. Just a nightmare, Ethan supposed, nothing a little song and some hugs wouldn't fix. Watching as Nymira did just that his eyes widened slightly when the little girl came to him instead, hugging him and prompting him to put an arm around her in turn. Poor kid, and now she was apologizing for waking them up too of all things. "Hey don't sweat it, we can go back to bed," Ethan responded kindly, using his free hand to ruffle Amuné's hair, "Things are just fine, nothing's going to hurt you out here." Or her father, they had to keep optimistic and tell themselves they would find the girl's parents. Sure, the truth was they hadn't a clue where either might be but getting down on themselves and thinking they were gone wouldn't help any, best to just look on the bright side. "Let's all get to sleep, alright? We got a lot more traveling to do tomorrow," Ethan added as he laid back in his sleeping roll, moving over to make room for Amuné. Before the little Ydran ever joined him though the horses whinnying drew everyone's attention outside, followed by an alert yowl courtesy of Wyth. Just what was all the fuss over? Sitting up again he crawled over to the flaps of the tent, furrowing his brow when he saw Amuné shirk back at whatever was out there. Easing her aside he peered out towards the river to see what was going on, alarmed to see Cecil fending off two creatures. What the heck were those? And where in the world had they come from? "Crap... Stay here!" Hurrying back to his sleeping roll he fetched his sword, darting out of the tent and unfolding his weapon to fight. Was it that old man again? "Yesss... Yeeessss... Fight them, let them feast on your flesssssh!" the Varuna mage hissed in glee, cackling as he watched the slimes battle with Cecil. With toxic skin that excreted poison like a toad they would do serious harm to whoever touched them, or whoever they touched. Expecting then the boy with the gauntlets to be doubling over in pain he was confused to see him fighting unharmed, not even remotely phased by the slimes poisons and strikes. What's more another one was joining the fight now, the Muran boy from the reports. What a bother, he'd hoped to take them all by surprise, not fight them directly. "No matter, I'll melt them all to the bone..." the caster laughed, extending his arms and raising from the depths two more slimes. With a toothy grin he sent his creations after Ethan this time, with Cecil still preoccupied with his two. Just what in the world was going on out there? Blasted morons, causing a ruckus over what she figured was a deer. "Unbelievable, what are you all so worked up over...?' Nymira grumbled, crawling to the tent's flaps and peering outside to get a better look. Spotting Cecil locked in combat with strange creatures and Ethan about to be made all the commotion make a little sense, and it would explain the animals all being uneasy. They couldn't catch a break even out here could they? "Child, stay in the tent and don't move, you'll be safe here," the Dimuran said as she grabbed her daggers, hurrying out to join the others. Even from here she could pick up the stench those abominations carried, something similar to decaying flesh almost. Was this necromancy? They didn't appear human, yet in the glow of the moon she swore she could make out skeletons. Where there were the undead there was generally a caster responsible, so where were they? There, on the river! They were small, even smaller than she was, but they must be the culprit! If the others were busy fighting those things then she'd handle the mage, most necromancers were all but defenseless without their pawns protecting them. With daggers in hand she dashed forth towards the water, quickly running through it and trying to close the gap between her and her target. In hindsight splashing like that was an awful idea and her presence was made much too soon, causing the Varuna to cast a nasty green mist in her direction. Seeing nowhere to avoid it Nymira hastily ducked under the water, relieved to find it wasn't penetrating the surface. Kicking off the ground she swam a few feet away before surfacing again, raising a hand and firing off a simple fireball styled spell. Much to her dismay another abomination was created in her attacks path, taking the hit and exploding on contact, leaving its master unharmed. "Gods you reek!" Seriously, what the heck were these things?! They smelled an awful lot like a rotting animal carcass but were transparent, and even more disturbing appeared to have skeletons inside of their gooey flesh. Whatever they were they had to go, Ethan knew that much. Avoiding the grasping hands of the pair he swung out with his sword in response, managing to sever one of their arms as it fell to the ground and dissipated into a puddle. "Heh, like a hot knife through butter," he said with a grin, relieved they were easy to harm at least. His grin was quickly wiped clean however when the creature regenerated its limb, letting out a shrill howl before lunging at him again, both arms trying to wrap their way around the Magi. In a panic he jumped back and stumbled over a rock, missing being grabbed but ending up on his back. The second creature then ended up over him, hissing as liquid dripped from its frame onto his skin, burning it on contact. Wincing in pain he gathered together magic and blasted the creature off with a quick spell, scrambling to his feet and putting distance between himself and the creatures.</s> <|message|>Amuné Ris Campsite Amuné only half followed directions. She didn't stay in the tent, though she stayed by it, her shaking fingers curling in Wyth's thick fur. "Stay," she whispered to him. The moorcat stopped trying to get her to leave, but still he hissed and spat in the direction of the fight. The girl watched Nymira charge to the river, only to have a green cloud spew in the woman's direction. She covered her mouth to stifle a shriek. But the Dimuran surfaced again, and hurled a fireball at something Amuné couldn't really make out in the dark. The child gasped. Nymira, she was a Magi? And she seemed to be a strong one, too. Amuné wrinkled her nose as a breeze blew the stench of the creatures to where she was standing. The smell made her gag. But it also stirred something in her mind. The child could tell it was her magic, and she wavered before letting the vision wash over her. She kept seeing awful things, things she didn't want to see, but they were important things. Things that could help. She couldn't do much, but she wanted to help how she could. Amuné's heart quailed at what she saw. The blobby things ripping Nymira apart, as the woman tried weakly to fend them off but was overwhelmed. Ethan, tripping and going under in the water, and unable to rise. Them beating the disgusting creatures and the one controlling them, but collapsing on the shore, sick. The sickness getting worse and worse...and it was all tied to the putrid creatures. Wyth looked at his girl as she leaned on him suddenly. She'd been murmuring things softly, and had seemed distracted, but now she was paying attention again. As she started towards the water, he tried to get in her way, and he didn't entirely obey when she told him No. Still, she stopped before getting too close. Amuné felt tired, and Wyth was being uncooperative, but she made it close enough to call to those who were fighting. "Don't touch them!" she cried. "Ethan, don't touch them! They're bad!"</s>
<|message|>C-X 00 "Cecil" Cecil didn't know what these things were or why they were attacking them, he didn't even know what the reason for this whole event was. He was confused mostly and was trying hard to understand what he was supposed to do about this, but he was still going to try and fight them off even if it meant he was going to have to take the battle further and try to unlock his programming. If he unlocked his programming he would be able to fight like a true Machina of his kind. He didn't like the thought of it, he didn't even know if he was going to end up resetting and forget everything about himself. He thought of himself as very timid compared to what he heard of warriors so such a thought definitely didn't help. Trying hard to fight off these creatures he tried to keep them occupied, but the one that summoned them in the first place was already back to summoning and was immediately sending them after Ethan. What's worse was Nymira was now getting involved and going after the creator of these things. Trying to destroy the creatures with just his fists he was finding it rather dismaying that they were barely being affected by it, or at least in the way he had hoped they might be. They weren't collapsing or having a hard time keeping up with him, the most he was doing was slapping them around. Feeling frustrated and worried, he continued to try and battle them in hope that he might be able to help the others. Backing off momentarily after throwing a fairly strong punch his eyes were momentarily directed to the others. Nymira was in the water trying to go after the original creator while Ethan was fighting off another creature. If his fists weren't doing much to the creatures he would have to try something else, but he didn't know what without risking his own battery. He just got it and he didn't know if it was going to end up running out much faster if he went ahead and abused its power. Having to try and avoid the creatures again he threw himself around to the side and threw down a fist, causing the ground to vibrate as if trying to cause the creatures to lose their balance on the shifting soils; however, their gelatinous mass keeping them fairly stable before they too ended up taking a swipe at him. Finding it hard to come up with a suitable tactic regarding these he dashed back again but the sound of Ethan wincing and Amuné calling out to him had him immediately distracted. Looking over in Ethan's direction he spotted the cause of his pain, watching as he struggled to push these creatures back. Gasping, he immediately turned back to look at the creatures that were attacking him again, hissing and growling as they grew angry at his ignorance towards them. Giving them a staring at in hesitation the moment they touched him something snapped, his eyes going yellow for a moment before he suddenly grew angered. "Keep your hands off my friends!!" Immediately grabbing the creature's limbs electricity immediately built up around him before he started to toss the creature violently around, slamming it into the ground several times before throwing it into the second creature. Already enraged without giving the creatures a chance to recover he held his gauntlet out in front of him as it buzzed with electricity, his fingers pointed straight at the creatures before the electricity immediately discharged in a long sharp burst like a lightning bolt.</s>
<|description|>Name Corbin Verrone Age 25 Personality: +Reliable- If asked to do something he will damn well give it his best shot. +Cautious- Hell with being a hero, it won't matter if you're dead! +Generous- Damn I'm hungry, holding his last candy bar, Small girl stares at him, yeah here you go. +Sophisticated- Yes, I know it takes twelve turns of the chronometer, plug in the eradicator, then set the meter to three thousand microtones and then fucking run! I wasn't born yesterday! +Tolerant- Okay now I'm going to explain this for the one-hundredth time and if you don't get it, I shall tell you again for the one-hundredth and one time. -Suspicious- They were all standing there when the damn thing disappeared, One of those fuckers took it! -Unselfish- sometimes gives too much away. -Haughty- What do you mean you can't tell me what ten thousand to the forth is without a calculator! Blah -Compulsive- Langue…Kill them all! Fucking kill them all! -Humorless- I don't get it! That was lame! BIO: NYC 1-432 was the colony name where Corbin was born and grew to the age of five when it was destroyed by the Langue. His parents were MIA that day, if it wasn't for Karri's parents Corbin himself would be on one of the two lists that were developed for the citizens of NYC 1-432. Karri was his neighbor friend that he would go and play with most of the time. They were of the same age when he lost his parents and from that time on, he had a new family, one that treated him as if he was one of their own. As time went on, Karri and himself grew closer as friends and were reminded time after time that they were brother and sister, but to them that wasn't so, they were friends whom under extreme circumstances forced them into one family but were not blood so they allowed the love between them to grow. Karri is the one to blame for the way that Corbin is today for if it weren't for her, he would have grown up hating everyone and everything. But she was his savior, but he wasn't hers for when they just turned eighteen, the newly formed colony NYC 2 -1 was overran by scavengers looking for a place to call their own, this was the day that Karri was lost to him as they were trying to stop these low-life people. He had to flee the colony with just a few others but that was just for a few days as each member of the small group went their own way or died as the food ran low and the weak couldn't handle the stress. So after a few weeks Corbin was traversing over the land by himself, trying to stay ahead of the game by keeping low and watching for a group of people that looked like they could handle themselves. Relationships: None at this time.</s> <|message|>Kara Roberts Kara stared at Espen 'Guess I'm not the only one who points weapons at these guys' she thought to herself, deciding it best to keep her mouth shut There wasn't much she could do for Len and Iris in this situation, she barely knew their names, and they didn't know hers. She sat back, eyes fixated on the crossbow, one hand on Lens crossbow still. Kara sighed before deciding to say something "Easy now, we're friendly" She said to him "Atleast I think so anyway..." Kara muttered the last part under her breath</s> <|message|>Alex "Rocket" Jones Alex had kept herself hidden, following after the group of three survivors until they entered the grain silo. She watched in silence as the three made their way up the ladder. The girl shivered again, wrapping her arms around her shaking torso. It had begun to rain again, which was nice because it masked her footsteps, but she was terribly cold. She made her way into the silo, not yet climbing the ladder herself. She listened to their conversation, briefly questioning why she hadn't left. Maybe she wanted to find herself a group, but knew her social skills and stubbornness wouldn't let her admit defeat. And yet it was nice to be out of the rain. The bottom floor of the silo was damp and smelly, and Alex knew it would have been dryer in the upper levels, and yet she settled herself down onto the ground. And like a dog begging for table scraps Alex hoped they would accidentally drop crumbs off their ladder and into her lap. She shivered again, her gnawing stomach making it hard to focus on anything other then food. She was have to wait until the weather got nicer, as well as the sun came up, to try and find her next meal. Her thoughts were interrupted by a new voice, approaching the silo. Alex backed herself into the farthest edge of the silo, blending well into the dark corner. She held her breath as the man climbed up the ladder, cross bow in hand. She tried to control her breathing as she listened to the man threaten them. She hugged her combat knife to her chest, like a child holding a doll, and waited for the danger to pass.</s> <|message|>Len Sclera [IRIS] [LEN] The newcomer did not seem impressed with their newfound space. Neither was Len, if he was to be honest. He shrugged at her comments about the grain silo. "Well, it is what it is. Best we got. It may or may not keep them worms away but shit. 'Least ifn' they do come we won't be all wet." It wasn't until her next comment that he registered slight surprise. "Listen, about earlier. I don't know what I was thinking" He looked her in the eyes, trying to decide if she was serious or not. "You actually gonna apologize? Shiiiit, nobody apologizes in this world no more. Well, I won't say it's okay, cause you DID point my own damn crossbow at my sister but…" His voice trained off for a moment, his eyebrows crinkling as if he were trying to solve one of the mysteries of the universe. "But I suppose long as we have an understandin' that the next time that happens, it'll be the last, we'll be alright. Now my sis, she might need more convincin' than that, or maybe not. We'll see." Len was about to continue when he heard some say "I can't really go to sleep until you guys do." He spun around to see a man holding a crossbow, pointed right at him and his sis. He blinked, stared for a moment, blinked again. Then he rolled his eyes, shaking his head in frustration. "Well I'll be a monkey's son of a bitch!!" he exclaimed, letting out a deep, bitter sigh. He turned to Iris, rolling his eyes again. "What the fuck, Iris? Every gat-damn-body and their special cousin's be drawin' down on us today! This is startin' to get just a lil' on my nerves, Sis…" He turned back to the man before them, took a step forward. If anything, the man *should* keep the weapon trained on him, and not Iris. "You got 'bout two cotton-pickin' seconds to lower that fuckin' peashooter before I plant my boot so far up your ASS you gonna taste leather for the next ten gat-damn years!!" Len roared, not out of control--more like a controlled fury slowly rising, like a long dormant volcano nearing eruption. Iris shook her drenched head back and forth slowly as Len and Kara spoke with one another. Or more like- yelled with one another. If Iris were to be honest about her feelings right now, Kara would probably end up crying some more, and Iris wasn't in the mood to deal with that. The red head would definitely need to prove herself before Iris could even think about trusting this woman. "Yuuup. We'll see." she spoke in echo of Len, stretching her slender arms above her head. As if their luck had not been bad enough, a young man now was in their presence and pointing his cross bow at the three of them. Len began spitting out insults as the man looked dreary and exhausted towards them. Iris could tell by his dark demeanor that he probably needed a good night's rest. Len!" Iris shouted over his roars, her hand gripping his shoulder tight from behind. She leaned in with a harsh whisper, "We can't afford to be hollering like this." she released her grasp, looking between the faces that had gathered. "Easy now, we're friendly" Kara called mumbling off something extra at the end. Iris took the opportunity to agree with her, "Yessir, we're friendly. Just tryna' keep dry and warm tonight. If this is your spot we'll be leaving just as soon as the rain stops." Iris nodded, hoping the man would do as Kara did - stand down. Tense as Len was, ready for a fight (as he most always was), the second Iris' hand made contact with his shoulder, he relaxed--enough to be noticed, anyway. He sort of...deflated. He was still glaring at the man, however, deep rage in his eyes. He listened to her whisper, and realized as usual, Iris was right though. Now wasn't exactly the time to be getting into trouble. He closed his eyes for a long time, nodding. He'd only been trying to protect Iris--and if the guy so much as twitched the wrong way, he'd make sure that he'd take the man out with him. "Alright...alright," Len murmured, folding his arms over his chest. He snorted as Kara tried to convince him how "friendly" they were. Arching an eyebrow as Iris agreed with Kara, he snorted again. "Yeah. We 'bout as friendly as a tic-tac, Gunslinger. So be nice if you'd just back down now. The emphasis that he put on "gunslinger" was meant as a weak insult ,but he didn't really care at this point. He didn't like the guy, and would've preffered to take his chances with the Langue at the moment.</s> <|message|>Espen HolterThe Hunter Espen returned his hand to his crossbow after rubbing his tired eyes. Looking back down at the three, he noticed one of them was armed and some were staring at him. Another arbalist. Espen's grip tightened around his crossbow and he attempted to aim his weapon best he could towards who he thought was a possible threat. "Well I'll be a monkey's son of a bitch!! What the fuck, Iris? Every gat-damn-body and their special cousin's be drawin' down on us today! This is startin' to get just a lil' on my nerves, Sis…" Espen's attention was immediately drawn to the man with the funny way of speaking. Still aiming his crossbow at the armed lady, his eyes were following the man. He took a step forward and Espen slowly directed his crossbow towards him. The fastest way to him would be by the ladder and he would rather not have anyone climbing it. "You got 'bout two cotton-pickin' seconds to lower that fuckin' peashooter before I plant my boot so far up your ASS you gonna taste leather for the next ten gat-damn years!!" Espen chuckled a bit. What an odd way to threaten someone. Espen didn't really care about how furious he was. "Easy now, we're friendly" Espen didn't like killing people. Most of the time. He has heard so many variations of those words so many times that they lost all merit; especially in situations like these. Espen felt he had the advantage, being so high up and the three of them confined into one space. Like shooting fish in a barrel. But instead of fish, it is people... inside of a silo... Espen ignored the talk of them being friendly as he really examined the situation. He was unaware of whether or not they had any weapons on them, they outnumbered him, and more importantly... the only way he could possibly go is down. Even if he did manage to shoot one of them, they could retaliate. Espen didn't wanna test the durability of the silo against arrows or bullets. Higher ground didn't mean shit currently. Walking away was no longer an option. His choice of trying to confront them was dumb. The arbalist lowered his crossbow and decided to ask something he has been bothering him for a bit. "Hey hothead, where is that accent from?"</s>
<|message|>Name Corbin Verrone "RUN!" Bullets from the automatic pistol pelleted the ground just inches from Corbin's outreaching arm, his fingers fumbling to grasp Karri's cotton shirtsleeve. "Run damn you!" the gaze from her deep green orbs burned deep into his, her fearful but stern face etched forever into his memory. His failure to pull her to safety weighted heavily upon his soul. "KARRI!" The crackling voice of a tormented soul broke the plastering pelts of the heavy rainfall; tears streamed and cleaned the grimy cheeks of Corbin while forcing himself upright from his hellish nightmare. "Karri," trembling hands came to a rest upon tightly clenched eyelids. "Why?" His body jerked with the occasional sob escaped from the upright fetal positioned Corbin. Karri's last moments on this earth filled his mind's eye relentlessly. "OH GOD WHY NOT ME!" He sobbed into his covering hands, "Why not me!" His words faded into the sounds of his own sniffles. By the power of Zeus or whomever, the clap of thunder that shook the small station brought Corbin out of his moment of tormented flashbacks to the current situation of him being carefree in choosing a place to rest. Quickly he pushed himself up, stood for a few moments listening to the musical thumping of rain upon the aging roof. His eyes darted over the small room, taking in the view with each streaming stem of lightening that the storm provided. Death wish? Yes maybe, tired of this way of life? Most assuredly, was the thinking process of Corbin while he moved to the bay window and looked out over the land. His mind still jittery with the thoughts of Karri and the pain of not being able to reach her in time. He closed his eyes and brought his fingers into clenching fists while he fought the pain, fought trying to stop the images of the bullet riddled body of Karri that his mind's eye kept playing. A deep breathe, a small exhale, opening of the eyes brought Corbin back once more from his past. He forced his mind to think about the people he just left behind on the hillside. There was a saying that there is safety in numbers, but for him, it seemed like that was just the opposite, however, Karri's last request to him was to make sure that he stands up and make a difference in this hell hole. He gave his word that he would. He looked back over the land knowing well that the people on the hillside would not attempt to travel in storm with the increase threat of the Langue rising up in the soften earth. They would find cover and hold up till the break of dawn, he also knew that with this much rain, they would not stay on the hillside either, they would be traveling by the road till the ground hardened up so all he had to do was keep an eye on the road and wait till they showed up.</s>
<|description|>The Authoress Species: Human Age: Biologically 16, but mentally? Well...time hasn't mattered to the Authoress since she came into existence. Appearance: About 1.6 meters tall, with light brown hair that stops short above her shoulders. Usually wears a dark blue cardigan and a neutral expression. Personality: She's emotionally-detached - that is, she is quite literally unable to feel most emotions. There is the occasional confusion or curiousity but they are, more often than not, severely diluted. She does hold an appreciation for stories, in every sense of the word. History: As far as she can remember, she's always been 16. She holds no knowledge of her real name, her background, familial or otherwise, or even the dimension she originally came from. In her mind, she has no 'history' or 'future' - time becomes pointless when she can travel into any dimension, to any point in the timestream, whenever she wants. All she knows is that her job as the Embodiment of Restraint, is to maintain balance in the multiverse. Of course, she isn't against manipulating the flows of dimensions to her will - or "creating stories" as she calls them - and it helps that she has nearly every power in the universe. How did you get here?: By casually popping in through the Randomer, of course. Brief description of the world your character came from: The Authoress doesn't belong to any dimension in particular but that doesn't mean she's a wanderer. There is a plane of existence which resides somewhere in between dimensions, an infinite whitespace of sorts, a mirrored box with its surface area perpetually pulsing with a sort of mystical energy. Gateways or portals, as some call them, open up on the walls, the floors, and even the ceiling without any definite order to them; hence the name "Randomer". The Authoress is still in the process of studying the workings of that particular place but it has proven difficult even with her abilities. Because of this, she has theorised that it may not be a part of the multiverse, that perhaps the plane that it resides on allows it to exist as an entirely separate setting from the variety of realities of the multiverse. Whatever the case, it's the closest thing she has to a home.</s> <|message|>Levi McLeod After sipping his Sundrop and gently setting it down on the table, Levi tiredly cast his eyes back up to the bartender. "If by 'friend' you mean 'douchebag extraordinaire, from hell', then sure." Yylya, who knew what John had been thinking only because the WorldWeaver had told her, answered his questions without him having to ask: "We were simply sent here by our creator so that Levi can interact with other people and not be in such despair. Levi is from a dystopic America set in 2020, and I was literally created specifically for this role-uh, Restaurant, to guide this pathetic author." Yylya playfully smacked the back of Levi's shoulder, causing him to want to scoot away form her. She then said, "And the creator is just our, well, creator, from another dimension who wants to know what the answer to life, the universe, and everything is. And no, he doesn't mean '42'..." With that said, she vanished, replaced by another woman instantly. This woman was clearly very nearly the antithesis of the previous ambassador. Though she appeared human, her outward looks seemed to be the extent of her humanity. Her restrained rage and spiritual darkness permeated throughout the bar. She had dark blond hair, pulled into a bun on her head, and a cruelly beautiful but angry-looking face. She wore a long light blue dress. When she noticed what the author had written for her to wear, she glanced down and groaned with frustration. But she half-shrugged as she apparently got over it and continued in her ominous demeanor. Looking up, she glared at John with meaningless hatred. "Three large bean and cheese burritos please." Suddenly in the middle of the restaurant, just outside the bar, The Infamous appeared in a black cloud of smoke, flanked by two scantly armored women, a drow and a vampire. The Infamous himself wore a white muscle shirt, black leather trousers, combat boots, and a black leather punk rock style jacket adorned with rock band patches, chains, and pins. His hair was tousled and dark, a five o'clock shadow meandering about his jowl. He had a long scar that ran across his face, and wild, penetrating green eyes that seemed to entrap the souls they landed on. As The Infamous glanced around at the various patrons and employees of the restaurant, his teleportation signature, the smoke, slowly wafted away, but the sulfuric scent remained for a time. He chuckled as he eyed everyone before turning to an unseen partner in crime. "Chaos, me friend," he told someone. "See what ye can rile up." The red-haired vampiress asked, "Where did our army go?" "No matter that love," replied The Infamous. "We have an appointment to keep." He started to swagger toward the bar entrance, his wicked eyes locked onto those of the perpetually hostile Author's Ambassador. Levi turned to the new Author's Ambassador and said, "Didn't you blow his head off? I'm pretty sure you are both dead." "I can do what I want," she said as the author himself. "I have a sick attachment to these characters, admittedly. But come on, you can't tell me this won't be just a little bit fun." "Oh no," Levi said with a nod as he reached for his Sundrop, "I can definitely tell you it won't be." After a sip, he turned to John. "Just ignore them. They'll go away. Eventually. Maybe..."</s> <|message|>Ziggletrox the destroyer "hey if you touch levi I will SMITE you and I'll make sure you stay smited" said Zig with a drunk snarl on his face while still lying on floor then he shouted up to the WorldWeaver "And if you dare bring him to life I'll have a massive shonen style fight with you!"</s> <|message|>He just goes by John @Framing A Moose John made a mental note in his mind. And that would be the... hmm, that's the first time someone has made that 42 reference in twenty-four hours, actually. Must be a record. He didn't know how people came to find that number out---even Robin his employee, a perfectly ordinary girl from Earth, giggled when she first mentioned it. All John knew about it was that it was plastered all over the insides of his Infinity Engine for no reason he can think of, and that people keep somehow connected it to the answer to some ultimate question or whatever about Everything. Capital E Everything. John might afterwards ask Yylya which version of the question she meant when she was very suddenly replaced by another woman. This one was fierce, angry, and ordered her food with absolutely no preamble. John kept up his smile anyway. He turned around and spoke to the small microphone to the wall, "Well, you heard her, didn't you? Three large bean and cheese burritos." To Robin, he said, "And you should bring the food out, kay?" That errand done, John returned to scanning his customers. The fabric-clad dwarf seemed like he was going to say something, and John would have been all ears when trouble popped up in the Restaurant. Or rather, someone who had trouble written all over his face. Not literally, but if someone appeared in your establishment with a black cloud of smoke and flaked by sexy vampire women, well, that can be either your best customer or your worst. "Ah, Robin," John started. "Can you also check on the Guardians? Make sure they're still callable? Just in case." "Uhuh. Well, as long as they don't start picking a fight with anyone." And then finally, he turned to the fabric-loving dwarf. It was hard to tell under the clothes, but in closer look, they did seem awfully hungry. "Sorry about that. Is there anything that you'd like? We serve anything imaginable here." He paused, glanced at Mr. Trouble. "And in case things start flying, there's a Safe Room, over there, to the left. You can tell the others about it too. You can eat there too." Just arrived: - The Infamous, flanked by scantily-armoured drow and vampire. People on the bar: - Sandy Cane, a space bounty huntress, having her fries and hot dog. - Ziggletrox the Destroyer, a dragon-shaped amoeba, perpetually drunk. - Levi, a bearded 33-year-old man in a sports jacket, sulking. - An Author's Ambassador, an angry woman in a dress. - Pridopus, a short figure covered entirely in fabric, awfully hungry. Chatting with each other: - 'Sandra', a teenage girl (The Authoress), having a cup of coffee. - Cledwynn Magouloura, a half-ghost half-mechanical, a bit tense. Other Staff - Robin, a human waitress, currently behind the bar.</s> <|message|>They'll tell you Pridopus, though their real name is Ga'Ria Stygian Pridopus, having at first noticed the bartender's attention turn for the briefest of moments towards them, was juuuust about to request one of those tantalizing dishes currently surrounding them to chow down on - - before a dark puff of fog filled the entrance of the restaurant before dissipating. Pridopus pulled their bandanna up just a bit more in an attempt to filter it out, craning their torso in the direction of the following noise. Their noise crinkled at the rotten-eggs smell emanating from it, and they would have turned back if it weren't for the newcomer's...interesting appearance. He looked - well, for lack of a better term, this guy seemed like an absolute prick. While the newcomer chatted with two...ah, equally interesting-looking women, one of the people at the bar mentioned at this man was likely to "go away, eventually". No one else seemed that much troubled by the man and his cronies, aside from the dragonoid drunkard shouting at what appeared to be the ceiling. Alrighty then. Pridopus wouldn't pursue it - oh, and it seems that the bartender was addressing them again. Anything imaginable, eh? Anything? because man, would they like to have their favorite comfort food right now...they twisted back around, nodding their head to show that they had heard. And apparently this place had a Safe Room, which seemed awesome. Peace, quiet, and perhaps a rest from all of this over-stimulation? Great. Hopefully no one tries to start anything before they can do that. Leaning in as close as possible (given their short legs), Pridopus lowered their bandanna just enough so as to make their speech comprehensible, and said, "Would you happen to have...octornapie?" Octornapie was a curious thing. The natives of Pridopus's home realm, TRAPPIST-1d, was home to a gigantic ocean bordering its largest colony. Seeing as agriculture was quite difficult on the terraformed planet, many citizens relied on capturing whatever horrifying creatures that arose from the deep. One of these was the octornapus, a relative of the pentapus. Octornapuses are small and light blue in color, resembling some unholy mix of squid and cat. They are also, TRAPPISTligns soon learned, absolutely scrumptious when baked into a pie. But all of that information was absolutely unnecessary to this moment anyway. STARVING Location: The bar in the Restaurant at the End of the Universe Interacting with: John the Bartender (@Pseudo Stygian) Inventory: Morningstar (in pouch, attached to belt)</s>
<|message|>The Authoress Sudden realisation clicked in place. That underlying, nagging sense of something she couldn't quite place had stopped. Mainly because the Authoress had managed to pin down what it was her instinct was attempting to tell her. The plane of existence this dimension resided in was unlike all the other dimensions she'd visited. It was similar to the one the Randomer existed in. Most people who knew what she was truly capable of always immediately assumed that she was able to will anything to happen on a whim. Perhaps that wasn't quite untrue but it wasn't entirely true either. To use any of her powers or abilities, she had to know which power it was, how it worked, and what she intended to use it for. It may sound tedious to anyone else; however, she had lived with such powers for as long as she could remember. In addition, the variety of her powers provided her with ample loopholes to overcome possible setbacks. As the midget-ah. A change of plans. She may as well drop the pretense. 'Sandra' no longer served any purpose here. As Ga'Ria drained her cup of coffee, she carefully glanced around the Restaurant, Dimensional View kicking in. There it was. The very threads that held this particular dimension together. She could see them - finely woven and yet, tangled in places. She reached out mentally to interact with them but her action proved to be in vain. They were intangible, untouchable to her. As she had suspected, she was no longer the one pulling the strings here. Much like how the workings of the Randomer were an enigma to her, the workings of this dimension proved to be as such. How intriguing. She had no reason to realise this sooner - encountering another dimension alike to the Randomer was an occurrence that had never happened before. The Authoress took back the mug from Ga'Ria. She did not acknowledge his appreciative words, nor had she Cledwynn's friendly ones. Her expression had already assumed its natural state - the epitome of neutral dispassion. When the lights dimmed in an abrupt fashion, the Authoress narrowed her eyes, thought it was not out of surprise. She was aware that she'd made a mistake. Underestimating a dimension was one thing; underestimating the personalities it attracted was another. Had it not been for her belated realisation, she would most likely had been caught off guard at some point. Her gaze flickered over at Levi when he dryly requested for a cyanide pill. He had an idea of what was happening, then. Or what was about to happen, it seemed. The arrival of the Restaurant's most recent patron came with quite dramatic flair. The Authoress tilted her head slightly, eyeing the dark-haired man. His energy levels were...strange, to say the least. She couldn't quite tell. Stranger still, she hadn't been able to skim off his name from his mind. It was blocked. Though from what she remembered from the conversation between Levi and the Author's Ambassador, the name "D'ren" had been mentioned. It was likely that this was "D'ren" then. An unprecedented turn of events, indeed. She hadn't needed Sandra to manipulate this dimension at all, as limited as her effects were here. The unique characters this particular dimension attracted had been enough. The Authoress stared back when the assumed "D'ren" sent her a brief glance. She then turned to John, placing her empty mug on the counter. "Another cup, if you'd please." Her tone had returned to one of impersonality, holding none of the politeness the words offered. While she was more than capable of refilling the mug on her own, it would be rude to do so at a restaurant. It wasn't as if she cared for social ethics but there was currently no purpose in neglecting propriety.</s>
<|description|>Edvvard "Eddie" Erickson Normal- Age: 14 Appearance: Eddie is tall for his age, standing 5'11", with a slim, lanky build. His hair is mid-back length, blond and always kept in a ponytail. He has heterochromia iridum, giving him a green left eye and blue right eye. He wears a white ball cap, a white t-shirt, a brown vest, a pair of dark khaki cargo pants and brown skate shoes with gold designs. Backstory: Eddie grew up in a middle-class family. They had enough to get by for food, a great house, a few luxuries (such as wi-fi and cable, as well as his own phone) and 3 older sisters. With his dad always working overseas and his mom working late at the office, his sisters practically raised him, which is why he has "feminine" aspects in his personality. Personality: Eddie has often been called a "sissy-boy" and a wimp because of how "feminine" he is compared to other males his age. Despite this, he has many friends. Whenever he gets bullied, he ignores them, choosing to talk to his friends instead. Unless the bullies get physical. Then he screams "fire!" at the top of his lungs, getting the attention of everyone around him. Hero- Name: Talon Appearance: As Talon, Eddie's hair turns white at the top of his head and brown near the bottom. His mask is white, covering his forehead, temples, upper cheeks and nose, tapering off into a beak. The front of his torso is covered in white cloth with a feather-like design, with the rest of his torso and his thighs covered in a brown, feather-like material. His arms are covered by cloth "wings" that allow for gliding. From his knees down, his costume is golden-yellow with 3 claws on each boot, 2 in the front and 1 in the back. Miraculous: A bracelet on his right wrist that appears to be a tiny, metal eagle wing held on by a leather strip. Powers: Active: Eagle Charm - Using this, Talon is able to pull a pillar or a wall from the ground, allowing for a barricade to hide behind. Passive: Flight, Enhanced Sight, Agility, Acrobatics, Aerial Maneuvers, Strong Aura (Nearby allies feel stronger), and Camouflage Sight (no camouflaged or invisible enemies can hide from him). Weapon: A pair of tonfas. Both of them have a part on the top that can slide open like Chat Noir's staff to allow for a video-phone like application. Kwami- Name: Beek Appearance: Beek appears as a baby eagle, except his extremely tiny body and large head. His head and shoulders are white, his feet are gold, and the rest of him his brown. He has 3 antenna that stick out from the top of his head, spreading like a fan. Instead of arms, he has wings with tiny hands at the ends. Personality: Beek is lazy, tired and doesn't like to do anything but sleep. If you catch him awake, he'll answer your questions honestly, though often with a lot of yawns. He'll wake up every time just before his hero needs to transform. Favorite Food: Cadbury Cream Eggs.</s> <|message|>Clair Edwards ---</s> <|message|>Aaron Meyer Aaron poked the package from behind the fence with the wooden end of the broomstick. The morning sun cloaked the Washington DC suburbs with a glorious yellow light, signalling what would hopefully be an awesome day, provided that it wasn't ruined by this morning package. The boy squatted behind the fence in his impromptu hazmat suit which consisted of a Snuggie, a dust mask, swimming goggles, dishwashing gloves, and a bike helmet. Eventually, he decided that his home-grown bomb disposal technique would be too time consuming and chose to just take the risk of opening it in the house. Mason and Pops had already left for work, the only remnants of their morning presence being a breakfast bagel and a note that read: "Sorry we had to leave early! Mason made breakfast for you. Have fun at your new school and please, DO NOT GET IN TROUBLE" The text in upper case had a boldly scribbled underline to emphasise the exasperated pleading that came with the message. Bagel plate in one hand and package in the other, Aaron made his way to what was planned to be the guest bedroom. Boxes of homemaking goods were still unopened and strewn in the corner. He chomped down the bagel before opening the package. If what he thought was in the small box, he could not let his morning sustenance get tainted by the contents. But instead of the surprise stink trap he expected from his friends back in Chicago, Aaron was greeted with a small wooden box. Now ain't that curious, he noted. Inside the box lay a neat little bracer, like the ones he's seen archery people wear. But he dropped archery ages ago. Pops stopped him just before he tried the William Tell trick with Mason. "No return address, no note goin' with it. Recipient's definitely Aaron Meyer, not Pops," But even then, Geoffrey Meyer wasn't the sort of man to collect trinkets like this. Aaron would run it by the post office later. But for now he couldn't help himself. He put on the bracer, the leather band fitting snugly on his wrist. And then things got weird. A small creature materialised from the centrepiece of the bracer. Aaron leapt back and landed on his butt. The creature stood, well levitated, with its posture straight and its hands behind its back. "Greetings! I am Arrlo and you have just become the new holder of the Armadillo Miraculous." It spoke as if it was delivering a tutorial message. Aaron raised an eyebrow at the tiny being. "Excuse me?" "Ah yes, this may be a lot to take in. You see, you have been chosen to become the Miraculous Hero of Protec- hey, what are you doing!?" Aaron grabbed the miniature armadillo by the limbs, twisting and turning it around to further examine it. "What are you?" he squinted at it. The creature lost any composure it had previously. "A Kwami! R-release me at once!" It struggled against Aaron's grip. Aaron paid it no heed. "Bipedal. Dermal plating reminiscent of an armadillo. Yes, many armadillo like traits, but humanoid in overall form," he muttered his observations. "Hey, you said something about armadillos before, right?" Before the kwami could respond, Aaron caught a glimpse of the clock in the kitchen. "Ah crud, I'm late for school!" He grabbed the kwami and stuffed it into the front pocket of his backpack, right next to his pencil case and a copy of Lonely Planet – Washington DC. "We'll discuss this as we ride! Try not to fall out!" The boy shouted to his new companion as he tore down the street on his highly modified bicycle. The kwami didn't respond to the suggestion. He was too busy screaming and holding onto the fabric of the backpack for dear life as the pencils and other miscellaneous school items went flying out of the unzipped bag.</s> <|message|>Thomas "Tommy" Oliver It was a normal morning at first for Tommy. He'd done his exercises, had a good breakfast, and proceeded to check the morning paper. Beside the paper, however, was a small box. "Another gift from mom?" he asked, looking over. "No card this time?" He shrugged as he carried it inside. "That's not like her." he said, beginning to open the box. Suddenly a bright light shot a few feet in the air from the box before floating back down as what appeared to be a tiny wolf. "Something tells me this isn't a gift from my mom." he said, eyeing the fairy thing. "No clue." the thing said to him in a surprisingly deep voice. "I'm Marrok. Got anything to eat?" "I got some deer jerky." Tommy said, offering him a small piece. Marrok zipped through the air, grabbing the food from the boy's hand, and began munching on it loudly. "So, what's this?" Tommy asked, picking up the other item from the box, a wristband. "That's a Miraculous." Marrok said, looking at it. He then began explaining what a Miraculous was and what it did, stopping every so often to grab a piece of jerky to munch on. "So, I just have to say that one thing?" Tommy asked, looking at it. "Whatever. Just stay close and stay hidden. I have to go to school." Marrok shrugged and jumped in Tommy's coat pocket. As Tommy arrived at school, being one of the first as usual, he took a seat by where he normally met his friends. While waiting, he kept his eyes out on everyone that came his direction. About ten minutes after his best friend was supposed to arrive, everyone but him was there. "Hey, where's Eddie?" Tommy asked. Everyone looked around, shrugging. "Guess he's late." One boy replied, looking off towards the gate.</s>
<|message|>Edvvard "Eddie" Erickson Eddie sat in the library during lunch, hiding in a back corner as he opened the package he'd found on his doorstep this morning. He opened it to see a bracelet and a bright light. The light jumped up, becoming a tiny, baby eagle. "You are too cute." Eddie laughed softly. "What are you?" "I'm a Kwami." the tiny being said, his voice sounding very tired and devoid of energy. "You can talk?" Eddie gasped in surprise. The Kwami nodded. "My name's Beek." he yawned. "Nice to meet you, Beek." Eddie smiled. "My name's Edvvard Erickson but my friends call me Eddie." "Eddie." Beek nodded with a smile. "What can you tell me about this bracelet?" Eddie asked, slipping it on. "It's a Miraculous." Beek nodded. "It'll give you powers like a superhero." "Really?" Eddie asked, wide-eyed. "How do I use it?" "I'm hungry." Beek said, rubbing his belly with 1 wing-like arm. With a sigh, Eddie pulled a piece of candy from his bag, a Cadbury Cream Egg, opened it and gave it to the kwami. Beek ate fast, his eyes going wide. "That was really good." he said, speaking louder and faster, more energized off the sugar. "Whatever, just tell me how to activate this thing." Eddie said with a huff. "Oh, you just have to say wings spread." Beek nodded, beginning to fly around and look at things. "Wings spread?" he said, questioningly. Suddenly, Beek was pulled into the bracelet and Eddie's outfit changed. Looking at himself, he noticed he had the general appearance of an eagle. "I'm a superhero!" he exclaimed as quietly as he could. "I need a superhero name." he said, beginning to pace. It took him a while but he eventually came up with something. "Talon." he nodded. He began moving about the library stealthily, watching other people who were being loud and messy. Just as he was going to begin trying to fix that, he saw a boy go into the girl's bathroom. Curiosity and determination to right the wrongs of the pervert filling his thoughts, he began stealthing over that direction, ready to confront the boy.</s>
<|description|>Riker A tough, imposing woman with a menacing demeanor. Her physical strength is evident in how she effortlessly subdues Sarah. She's cunning and manipulative, using deceit to further her goals. Despite her ruthless exterior, she shows signs of sadism and enjoyment from causing others distress. Riker's laughter and taunts reveal a sinister personality beneath her intimidating appearance.</s> <|description|>Sarah A young woman, fair-haired and blue-eyed with a defiant smile on her face. She's small but spirited, unafraid to stand up against Riker. Her innate level of stubbornness that borders on recklessness rather than courage. Despite the dire circumstances, she maintains an air of determination and resilience.</s> <|narrator|>A young woman named Sarah finds herself in a precarious situation when she encounters a group of raiders led by a woman named Riker. After a tense standoff, Sarah is taken hostage and brought back to the raiders' lair. Along the way, they learn that her father is also part of the group and he tries to negotiate with Riker for his daughter's safety. However, things take a turn for the worse when Riker reveals that she has been supplying drugs to them in exchange for protection from other groups. Despite Sarah's pleas, her father is killed by one of Riker's men. The remaining survivors are then taken captive by the raiders who begin looting their possessions.</s> <|message|>Riker Picture They called them Wolves. The name sounded intimidating, yet they were just a ragtag group of Vault 141 survivors who were just trying to get by and survive in the post apocalyptic ruins of Toronto. They had built their base at the top of a skyscraper in downtown, since it was the safest spot they could think of. It was easy to defend against the zombies and the bandits, besides it was the only tall building that managed to survive the bombs. When the Vault 141's supplies ran out, they figured that place was a safe bet and so they moved there. Not every member of the Vault survived the nuclear winter, though. Only few of them remained, Sarah included. Sarah was the daughter of the Leader. She just turned 18, but had no way to actually know since nobody was keeping track of time anymore. She was young, fair hair, blue eyes and a defiant smile on her face 24/7. She had an innate level of stubbornness that was much closer to recklessness rather than courage. And nobody ever dared to cross paths with her. Sarah was vital for the group because of her medical training: in fact, her mother who died earlier in the apocalypse, taught her everything she knew about medicine. One night Sarah was restless and got up from her bed. Her room was located at the top floor of the skyscraper: she had a great view of the city from there and was constantly wondering what was going on down on the streets. She violated the curfew and exited her room. Sneaking past the patrol was super easy for her. She was giggling as she made her way to the service stairs. It was a long walk down from there but she had all night. Besides, it wasn't the first time she went on an adventure by herself. She thought she knew what she was doing.</s> <|message|>Sarah Picture Sarah steadily made her way down the floors, by the stairs. Like she had expected, it was a long walk. What she had likely not expected, was the person who met her face to face as she moved around a downwards bend to continue down the stairs. Sarah stood face to face with another woman, who seemed to have entered the stairwell from another floor, one of several that had been long abandoned since the war and had been deemed by the Vault dwellers too dangerous to explore- where they instead opted to live on the higher floors. The woman in front of her held a shocked expression for just a moment, before a grin took over her face. "Hey there, sweetheart." The woman gave Sarah a once over, most likely looking down at her due to her impressive height, over 6' feet tall. The stranger wore a long leather winter coat, which fell in length down to about her knees, with a thick scarf protecting her neck, and a hoodie under the jacket, it's hood laid back and covered in melting snow. Judging by appearance, she seemed to have been travelling for a while, snow melting on her clothes, and dirt smudged onto her cheeks. After a moment of tense silence, she spoke again. "Not going to hurt you. I didn't expect to find anyone here. Don't even have a weapon." It was hard to tell if she was telling the truth, considering her heavy clothing that could be used to hide dozens of weapons. "Are you alone?" She questioned further, her gloved hands raising slightly to show peaceful intentions.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah gasped and took a step backwards. She wasn't expecting to find someone else wandering around the staircase at that time, let alone a woman who looked like she had been surviving for quite some time out in the wasteland. The size difference was very noticeable since Sarah was 5' feet tall and barely over 110 pounds. "Don't move!" Sarah said in a tone that was as intimidating as possible while also being impossible to hear by her people. If they found out she was violating the curfew, the punishment would have been brutal. She quickly reached for her sub machine gun which was strapped to her waist but didn't take it out right away. "I don't know who you are nor what your intentions are. You have ten seconds to explain yourself. After that I will call the guards and if they don't put a hole in your head, I'll do it myself!"</s> <|message|>Sarah The woman's expression showed shock for another moment, her brows lifting up in amused excitement. "Oh, wow," she said. "Not the reaction I was expecting, to be honest." Her hand lowered to her mouth, and she coughed into a fist for a moment. The stranger looked over her shoulder, at the door she had just came in from. Sarah could see, if her vision followed, shadows moving behind the glass viewing window in the middle of the metal door. When her head turned back, the much larger woman suddenly lurched at her, using their dramatic weight difference to send Sarah crashing onto the stairs back first, forcing the wind from her lungs. Her hand clamped over Sarah's mouth, while her other hand gripped at her wrist with such an intensity one might think the bone might snap, in an effort to force her to release the sub machine gun. "No, baby," she breathed out, looking back over her shoulder as the door she had came in opened again. "I think I'll let my intentions explain themselves." Through the door came several men and women, all dressed in winter gear, snow melting off of them. They were dirty, scrap metal strapped to their bodies, worn assault rifles in their hands. Raiders. "Go on ahead, I'll be right with you," she ordered to them as they passed her, receiving only small nods in return. The raider leader- the woman, it seemed, pulled her body back, keeping her hands where they were placed. She let out an amused laugh, smiling at the vault dweller. "Wow. Look at you. So brave, really." The raider woman nodded to her, her dark eyes lit up with the laughter, too busy laughing at the predicament that she had forgotten to secure Sarah's left arm.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah was completely overwhelmed by her brutal strength and collapsed underneath her weight. She tried to struggle her way out of that predicament at first, but to no avail. She then tried to scream as loud as she could, but the sound was muffled by the raider's hand, still firmly pressed against her mouth. She looked on powerless as the rest of the bandits kept on pushing their assault and were now moving up the staircase. While they were struggling, Sarah inadvertently pulled the trigger and the machine gun let go a three-round burst. The shots completely missed the target, as the gun was pointed towards the wall to their side. Yet, the gunshots echoed throughout the building, possibly waking up the rest of her group. That wasn't intentional though. Her intentions were different and dictated by panic. As the raider was distracted by the shots, Sarah slipped her free hand down to her boots and pulled out a combat knife. She always had a knife hidden down there, as her father taught her years before. She figured pulling out a knife and stabbing someone would have been a lot easier, yet the weight difference made all of that a lot harder. She finally got a grip of the weapon just as the woman noticed her intentions.</s> <|message|>Sarah The burly woman's hand pulled away from her mouth as she noticed the danger, instead opting to cup and smack full force across Sarah's head, around her ear. The blow was like lightning and the resulting crack was like thunder. She quickly scooted forward, excitement in her eyes from the dangers of battle. She sat on Sarah's chest, her knees digging painfully into the younger woman's wrists, to both prevent her from grabbing any weapons further, and to force her to release what she had. "Now you've gone and ruined it." The woman hissed, reaching into her winter coat and extracting a snub-nosed revolver. Very quickly, freezing metal was placed to the lips of the young adult, barrel pointed right into her mouth. "I don't want to kill you, baby, you're so young, and full of fight," she soothed, a hand coming to stroke Sarah's hair. "And we don't want to kill your friends, but you've alerted them, so there is sure to be a fight. But if you come with me up there, I think we can prevent a massacre. Alright?" The woman continued to soothe, placing a kiss to Sarah's forehead in the most patronizing way possible. Her arm reached back to discard the submachine gun and combat knife, and send them falling down the stairs. "Now we're going to stand, and I'll keep this gun at your head, and we'll see if we can beat my boys before they start skinning your friends."</s> <|message|>Riker The blow was so hard Sarah almost fainted, but somehow she kept her composure and most importantly her awareness. She tried to struggle her way out but the woman's weight was simply too much for her to overcome. At that point, she wasn't even thinking straight anymore, it was just pure survival instinct. Her eyes were wide open at the sight of the snub revolver being pointed to her head. She felt her end was near and almost let out a scream. She suppressed it the moment the cold revolver got pressed against her lips. She then listened carefully to her words. Not like she had much of choice, yet she was strangely relieved by the fact that the bandit was still talking to her when she could have just shot her point blank. She then picked her up and forced her up the staircase. "What do you want from us?" Sarah said, stumbling on the stairs. "I'm sure we can work this out. Don't hurt my people!"</s> <|message|>Sarah "Oh, someone's gonna' get hurt. Real bad," the woman laughed. "We want the building. Nice view, I'd bet." She maintained the aim of her revolver as she leaned down to grab the submachine gun, tucking it into her coat for later, before they continued walking. "But if your people are as aggressive as you are, spitfire, then I'd imagine they'll shoot, no questions asked, when they see my boys. That'd be bad for both of us, so let's try to hurry and negotiate before any of your people get killed." The raider said, a bit of a chuckle in her voice. "How many? Children, elderly? Got a leader up there? Maybe anyone of any sort of importance or skill? Might be able to keep them."</s> <|message|>Riker "Please!" Sarah was visibly worried when she learned the bandit's intentions. They couldn't afford to lose their base, especially in the midst of that brutal Nuclear Winter. Being forced to leave the building was even worse than getting shot in the head right away by those scums. "They won't fire if they see me!" Sarah was walking as fast as she could. "Please. Let me do the talking. We can still work everything out. They are skilled fighters, but we can avoid all this bloodshed if we just keep cool for once!" She froze when the woman mentioned people of importance. She instantly thought of her father, John. He was the leader of the group of Survivors and would definitely fight back if he saw them arriving all guns blazing. "We have children, elderly, and women," Sarah continued. "But you can't just take them. They won't let you. Are you just as dumb as you look? What makes you think that you can just walk in here and take them as prisoners?"</s> <|message|>Sarah The woman let out a laugh at her taunts. "How many people, vault dweller? All this taunting and you may yet just convince me to gun them all down. How's that sound, baby?" The raider cooed, pressing the barrel of the gun into her back. "I could keep you for myself, see what it takes to make a blue bird sing." The woman let out a cackle, walking swiftly behind Sarah. Up above they could hear the other raiders moving quickly ahead. It wasn't likely that the two would get there before a fight would start, but if they were quick, they could probably manage to get to the scene before anyone got injured.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah shivered at the thought of being taken prisoner by that woman. No. She had to remain calm if she wanted her group to survive, it was the only way. "I'd rather die than become your slave, you monster," she whispered. "Don't think for a second I am doing this out of fear! I'm just trying to avoid a massacre. Now please. Let's hurry before things get violent!" "Either you tell those filthy scumbags of your men to stop and wait for us or you put this gun away and let me walk faster... Otherwise we will never make it in time!"</s> <|message|>Sarah "All this name calling really convinces me," the raider mocked, then lowered her gun and shoved Sarah forward. "Let's see if you can beat the clock, sweet cheeks." She followed close behind, but at least she wasn't aiming a loaded gun at her back anymore. Her tone remained amused, like this whole situation was just a game.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah rushed her way up the staircase, followed closely by the woman who was still keeping the gun pointed at her. There was no time to waste. The two quickly reached the top floor just in time to catch up with the rest of her group. As expected, they were stuck in the hallway pinned down and they couldn't figure out a way to get the elevator shaft to open. It was the only way to reach the top floor. The elevator obviously wasn't working, but hidden behind the reinforced walls was a ladder which led to the top floor where the rest of the group was hiding. "They must've shut down the doors when they heard the shots," Sarah muttered to herself as the men quickly turned and pointed their rifles at her. She didn't even bother to put her arms up as the bandit leader was right behind her. As soon as the men saw her, they lowered the guns right away. "So, how are we going to do this?" she asked the woman.</s> <|message|>Sarah The woman took a few looks over the situation, then nodded her head. "How many are there? Is there another way up?" she asked, looking down at Sarah.</s> <|message|>Riker "It's the only way up, you dumb ass." She spat. "And no, I am not going to tell you how many people are there. Oh, and before you ask..." "Sarah! Is that you?!" A voice could be heard from inside the elevator shaft. "DAD!" Sarah couldn't resist when she heard her father's voice, as she rushed towards the elevator. The doors were still closed though. "It's me! I'm fine. These... these scums assaulted me but I'm alright! They want something from us! I... Tell Mike to get the kids to safety!"</s> <|message|>Sarah "Just want to talk!" The woman yelled, before rolling her shoulders in a shrug. "But... if you want to be so stubborn..." She let out a disappointed sigh, tugging a lead pipe off the belt of one of the raiders. Suddenly, she swung it forward, slamming the pipe into Sarah's ribs as she was turned away. "Dad, you've got to teach your kids some manners, geez. You should hear the things she's said to me. But you know, my father raised me right. You know what he did when I acted up? Well.." She reared her arm back, going to slam the pipe into Sarah's torso again. "I'm sure you can hear!"</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah collapsed in pain to the ground as a sick thud echoed throughout the hallway. She was now breathing heavily, still on her knees. Meanwhile, movements could be heard from inside the elevator shaft: someone was making his way down the ladder. "No!" Sarah screamed as she heard the elevator doors slowly opening. "NO! Don't open the doors!" But it was too late. Her dad was now there, face to face with the group of bandits. Behind him, a couple of soldiers with their rifles pointed at the woman who was still holding the lead pipe. "Let my daughter go," the old man said, as Sarah was still gasping for air at her feet.</s> <|message|>Sarah The raider leaned down, yanking Sarah up in front of her, the lead pipe dropping uselessly to the ground. The men and women that made up the raiders - seven strong - all aimed their weaponry in return, barrels pointed at those clustered in the elevator as they took several steps back to make room for a firefight. The raider leader, the tall woman, let her short revolver settle at the base of Sarah's back. "You know, I can't really blame you for being so shocked," she said, nodding her head, her brows raised in mock-sympathy. "Who could have known their own daughter could have gotten them in this situation?" She paused, waiting for a reaction across their faces before she continued. "Oh yeah, that's right. Someone made a deal with my little group here that if she brought supplies down every other night, we would trade her a little bit of jet." The woman bluffed, a grin spreading across her face as she nodded repeatedly. "That's right! Sarah, poor beautiful Sarah decided to short us. She invited these consequences onto you. It's why she's always sneaking around, but you'd never suspect her, would you? Right... Overseer?" The woman guessed, after taking a gander at the man.</s> <|message|>Riker "This is... this is not true! They are lying!" Sarah said. "I'm a NURSE, not an addict! They... they are just trying to mess with your head, but it's not going to work. Ah!" Sarah fell down to her knees once again because of the pain she was still feeling. Meanwhile, her father's men took their safeties off and were now aiming straight at the raiders. "I don't believe a word you say," the Leader said. "You come here, threaten me and my daughter and expect me to believe you when you say she is a jet addict? Please. The way I see it, you will all end up killed if you don't back the fuck off right now." "Let my daughter go," her father said. "This is your final warning, raider."</s> <|message|>Sarah "Fine then," The woman nodded her head, raising her hands to the air, letting the revolver drop to the floor. As it hit the ground, her foot stepped over it, preventing Sarah from picking it up if she dared try. Her hands fell to her side, resting in her coat pockets. "Just one thing, before we go." She said, leaning forward as if to whisper to the man, despite the distance between them. "The name is Riker." And suddenly there was gunfire. Sarah's sub machine gun- which had been hidden in her winter jacket- began firing off its rounds at Sarah's father and the guards behind him. The woman- Riker- had taken aim and fired subtly through the large pockets of her oversized jacket. A coward's move, though it wasn't likely she'd see it that way. As if planned, the raiders fired with her, making it clear this wasn't the first person she'd done this to. A coward, for sure, and a snake. Riker bent down, pulling Sarah up by her hair quickly as she stepped backwards, using the teen as a shield in case of return fire- though she hoped to catch the guards off guard and knock them off before they could understand what had happened.</s> <|message|>Riker "NO!"Sarah screamed as the woman gunned down her father. The man was unarmed and couldn't defend himself either. He got shot multiple times in the chest and fell down to the ground, just like two of the men who were standing right next to him. Sarah instinctively tried to run towards him but was held back by Riker who quickly grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back into his arms. There was only one man left standing. He was clearly panicking as he was outnumbered and outgunned, frantically pointing his handgun at Riker and their soldiers. He muttered something but it was impossible to hear. Sarah was still struggling, trying to escape his grasp but to no avail. "Put the gun down Jonah!" she said to the only remaining one of their men. The man instantly calmed down when he heard her voice: he dropped the weapon and raised his hands as if surrendering. "Don't kill him!" Sarah said, with tears in her eyes "You got what you wanted!!"</s> <|message|>Sarah "Maybe you'll start answering my questions now, baby." Riker cooed in her ear sadistically. "Killed your father with your own gun. In fact, he's probably not even dead yet- just choking to death on his own blood, in shock. The more you know, right?" He mumbled, whispering to Sarah's ear as she kept her aim trained on the surviving man, Jonah. "Is there anyone upstairs, or did I just slaughter your entire measly group?" She asked, voice straightening out to become serious, threatening. Intense, even.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah lunged forward, in an attempt to escape her grasp and tend to her wounded father, but Riker's strength was simply too much for her to overcome. "Let me go!" She screamed. Meanwhile, who was already unarmed and surrendering, stumbled backwards, unsure as to what he could say to make it out of that situation alive. "Yes... there are other people upstairs," he said. "Take everything you want, but please, spare our lives." Sarah would then try to stomp Riker's foot and escape. She wasn't going to fight back though. If successful, she would simply get to her father and check his condition.</s> <|message|>Sarah Riker nodded, biting her lip in thought. Her brows furrowed and she let out a grunt as Sarah stomped on her foot, the larger woman releasing the teen and letting her run into the elevator. She didn't chase after her, instead leaning down to grab her revolver from the ground, holding it firmly in her grip, as if testing its weight fresh again. "Jonah. Cute name." The woman stepped past Sarah, grasping Jonah by the neck and shoving him out the elevator. "Essik, take him back to the metro." She said, a younger red-headed bearded male stepping forward to escort Jonah away at gunpoint, wordlessly. She then turned, looking back at Sarah on the ground, clutching at her father. Riker leaned down by her side, hovering over her as she checked the man's condition. "My father died when I was younger too. That's where leading gets you, an early grave." She raised the revolver, firing a bullet between the Overseer's eyes. "Still waiting for my turn." Riker said calmly, as if she hadn't just executed the possibly dying man in front of his daughter, eliciting a round of laughter from the raiders. "Now...I heard about a ladder." The woman said, looking around inquisitively as the raiders moved forward to loot bodies, including Sarah's own father, a short stocky dark-haired woman moving to drag Sarah herself up by her hair.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah didn't even notice the bandit escorting the man away as she was fully focused on her father. He knew enough of medicine to tell that he was a goner, there was no way he could've survived those shots. And then the fatal bullet, right between his eyes. His blood was now covering her face, hair and jacket. Sarah stood there in shock as the men were looting the corpses. She then stood up and walked towards the elevator shaft, watched closely by the woman. She showed her the way up. "This is the... the ladder," she said. Her face was still covered in blood. "It's up this way."</s> <|message|>Sarah "It's been such a long time since I've seen vault dwellers," Riker whistled, shaking her head as she looked up the elevator shaft. She waved her hand in a circle, gesturing her boys up the ladder. "Well, let's go. Don't hurt anyone unless they attack, of course. I really did just want to talk." The woman mumbled, rubbing at the back of her neck in faux-awkwardness. As the raiders moved up the ladder and only Sarah and Riker remained, the leader gestured the teen up the ladder. "Ladies first, my dear. I'm right behind you," she said with a smile.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah stood still and kept quiet, as her men climbed up the stairs. She then proceeded to climb it herself, followed closely by Riker. When she reached the top floor, she saw the bandits pointing their guns at the rest of the Vault 141 survivors. They were all unarmed and surrendering. Most of them were women, and there were also children and elderly people. "It's going to be alright," Sarah said to them, even though it sounded disturbingly ironic coming from someone who was literally covered in her father's blood. "Just... just do what they say and it will all work out."</s> <|message|>Sarah "Oh boy, look at that bounty!" Riker yelled, clapping her gloved hands together and pointing to the crowd of remaining vault dwellers. "First things first, let's get that elevator back on or you'll go down the faster way," she said, pointing to the far window. "Starting from youngest and working my way up. Get to it, one of you, fuck!" The raider leader then turned, wrapping an arm around Sarah's throat and pulling her into a side-hug, though it held all the threatening aggression one would expect from a raider, the grip far too tight and the revolver's barrel 'lovingly' stroking Sarah's cheek. "Your Overseer is dead, and we'll be taking you somewhere much colder, dirtier, and deadlier where we may kill you anyways. I hope you like ghouls of the feral variety." Riker turned to look back at Sarah, blowing her a patronizing kiss. Finally, she seemed to turn her head away, throwing Sarah forward to the others with a hard shove, waving her gun in the air and gesturing around vaguely. "Karim, Dolly, please- take a look around. See what we can bring home for now," two raiders moved forward, looting the place.</s> <|message|>Riker Sarah stood still, there was pretty much nothing she could do in that situation. The few remaining survivors were absolutely not able to defend themselves with weapons, let alone fight back against an entire group of well-armed bandits. She looked back at Riker in disgust as he blew her a kiss. The grunts looted the place and took everything they could carry. Meanwhile, the Vault 141 survivors were rallied and grouped against a wall, rifles pointed at their heads in case they were going to try anything. Sarah looked on as the men were looting her room. She gasped in horror as one of them picked what seemed to be some sort of secret diary of hers. "No!" she said, as the man turned to face her with a disturbing smile on his face.</s> <|message|>Sarah Riker let out a childish gasp, her eyes lighting up as her mouth dropped open. "Oh my God, Karim, is that a diary?" For a moment there, the excitement in her voice almost made her sound like a normal woman instead of a sadistic murderer. "Vault Dwellers, take a gander at Sarah here while my handsome boy Karim over there reads her diary!" The raider leader yelled, her hands clapped down on Sarah's shoulders. "I hope this is something good," Riker said to herself before looking over to the other raider who was searching the floor, Dolly. "Maybe she had a huge crush on one of those boys we just gunned down. That sounds about right, Sarah? You ever dream of kissing one of those poor dead men in the elevator? You know, it's never too late- he might still be warm." She teased, letting out a laugh in Sarah's ear.</s>
<|message|>Riker Sarah bit her tongue. There was another guy, about the same age as her, and she was in love with him. He had broken his hand a couple of weeks ago and couldn't fight anymore. That's why he wasn't fighting with the rest of the HGs downstairs. The two looked at each other without saying anything, but Ruler must have noticed something. "Put it down, you bitch," she said. "You've done enough!"</s>
<|description|>Prince Age 22 Birthday: May 21st Magic: Charm Magic- Charm magic is a holder support type of magic rather than using it offensively. Using different colored Magic Roses as their source of magic and using the scents and pheromones to create side effects for others. Although it can't force someone to fall in love, it uses the opponents deepest desires against them. Putting on Rose colored glasses one would say and put up a illusion of what attracts them most. Most of the time, it is used to direct the opponent to a person or thing and give that the illusion of their attractive desire. It depends on the person on how effective it is, but most who get directly influenced, even the strongest willed will feel hot, warm, and maybe slightly dizzy. But nothing dangerous. *Red Rose~ This magic influences others to be 'charmed' and see what they find attractive and desire. Using the flowers scent to create the ideal pheromones depending on the person. Giving the illusion of attraction, falling in love, etc. although it may not be 100% successful for every person, it can be highly distracting. *Blue Rose~ This Rose has a pleasant smell that makes others sleepy and fall asleep and feel peaceful and relaxed. *Yellow Rose~ This Rose increases Ally speed. *Green Rose~ This Rose creates a defensive barrier. *Orange Rose~ This Rose in raises ally magical power. *Purple Rose~ A costly Rose that uses quite a bit of magic to heal allies. *Pink Rose~ This Rose has a temporary transformation ability to turn others into cute cuddly things. Their magical power remains the same, but now they are adorable! Magic Level: C History: Prince doesn't really talk much about himself and most of his history isn't well known besides a few selected people. Which are a powerful Wizard named Rian and a transformation wizard named Karn. He pretty much grew up alongside Karn under Master Rian's teachings and the two of them grew up almost as siblings. Of course with Prince being the one causing trouble and mischief. After Master Rian disappeared as well as Karn, he set out on his own to explore the world, searching for something. Personality: Prince is a mysterious sorts, who hardly talks about himself and much prefers talking about others. Always seeming to avoid giving any information on him with a smile and laugh. Prince is outgoing and cheerful, always having a smile on and eagerly butting into people's business at random points in time. He can sometimes be a bit overbearing, but he mostly only tries to bring a laugh to others and cheer them up when they are down, in whatever means he can think of. One of which is being a hopeless flirt. Doesn't matter what gender someone is, or what.. Be it man, woman, beastman, whatever, he will occasionally flirt with them (especially when first meeting someone) and feign dramatic antics whenever they reject him. He acts childish, and not like he takes anything seriously and more or less looks for ways to have a good time. Even in battle. Despite his odd attitude, he is generally friendly and good hearted, always willing to help others with what they need. Though he worries more for others then himself, and tends to unintentionally forget things to care for himself. So sometimes he will pass out from lack of food or sleep. He tends to whine and complain when he wants something, or run off when he sees something he likes. Another childish factor. Although he seems to appear a idiot, he shows some unexpected wisdom. Often soloing missions but also preferring hanging out with others. He's a bit of a goofball and highly enjoys teasing others. As well as make fun games out of things. Like shipping random people together. Often even acting a bit like a fangirl when this situation arises. Team Members: None Three Strengths: 1. He's very fast. Extremely fast. He's fleet footed and knows how to work four guns at once. 2. He's optimistic and cheerful, often helping others and encouraging them to keep going. 3. He has good keen animal senses. Three Weaknesses: 1. Physically, he isn't the strongest guy. 2. He's never really takes anything seriously. 3. He isn't always honest. Greatest Love Flirting/Shipping Motivation To sail on the wings of loooooooooove. Appearance: Short red messy hair with bright catlike teal eyes. He stands around 7'5 and has a lean toned build. Wears a red open coat that shows his bare torso, revealing a X shaped scar on his chest. Wearing a red raggedy scarf around the throat as well as a darker red hat with a gold feather, his right eye is covered in a black eyepatch, hiding the large slash scar going across it and the dimmed teal eye. Wearing dark navy pants with gold trimmings. Has a brown belt around his hips with two gun holster on each side. Has furry long pointed ears and a red cat tail. His Guildmark is a crimson red and is on his back in the middle of his shoulder blades. Additional Details: * He is a member of Dragon Fang. * His ears and tail are very sensitive. * He seems to be under a magical curse, but the details are unknown. * His real name is only known by Master Rian and Karn. * He's a bit of a compulsive thief and liar. * He likes singing and dancing, and generally being a party animal. * He is very nimble and well balanced. Great at climbing up trees, buildings, free running and acrobatics. Surprising most because he's so tall. * He's a cat that can play the fiddle. Or Violin. * He sometimes breaks out in song. * He adores cute things. * He has a sense of fashion. * He has quite a bit of knowledge with herbs, sickness, and poisons. * He's been with Dragon Fang for about 4-5 Years. * His species is known as Pantera. Not much is known about them. But he does eat magic and requires to consume some like any regular meal. This usually involves having to touch, hug, kiss, or bite someone or thing with magic in order to suck out the magical energy. * He knows how to sail a ship.</s> <|message|>Serma "Luna" Cathris MelinaMelina activated Blood Queen form as she approached where Karn and the two wizards were, and she used her scythe to vault into the air and attempt to slash at the flying one, anticipating missing. When she hit the ground she would quickly turn so she had both of them in her sight, and preparing for another strike. "Karn, pick one and I'll get the other, alright?" She shouted, glancing at him for only a moment. Fox@Demon Shinobi Serma Cathris Serma looked over Ariel slowly, completely caught off guard by the girls sudden transformation. After a moment she approached the now-dressed-in-white girl and looked her over. "Never seen magic like that before..." She murmured, before the red-haired girl started talking again, and she tensed up some, looking over. She noticed the stance change, and had to stop herself from matching it. "Please don't say dark guild... It makes it sound so mean. We're a family, just like you, and I was sent here to deliver the message that my guild master was going to come here with a few others of us to ask about one of our members who has been missing for a while now. I, uhm, saw her going into Phoenix Wing the other night using my magic, so we thought you guys might know where she was going... Oh! And we haven't introduced ourselves! Silly me... I'm Serma Cathris." She held out her hand to Sayuri, though she did look worried. "I really don't want to fight, regardless of what you may think of my guild." @Demous</s> <|message|>Ariel "Rainbow" Gratas ArielSayuri seed to identify a rather important detail about how Ariel's persona worked. While she herself had noticed some differences it was fantastic that someone else seemed to confirm it. This being only her third appearance she wanted to say something when things started getting heated. Thankfully it didn't look like there was going to be a fight. Even if she was revitalized Ariel didn't really feel like dealing with such a thing. Enjoying her new upbeat attitude sounded much better. Stepping between the two she tried to get Sayuri to calm down a bit. "Now now, let's not get too hasty. Maybe we can help her find her friend." Turning around to Cathris she tried to reassure the girl. "Maybe if we knew more about your friend. A name or maybe what she looks like. I'm new so I might not know off the top of my head but I could look." @Burthstone</s> <|message|>Penny "The Phoenix" Hoff penny Penny hadn't yet left the city, so when her Lacrima 'buzz' she was able to respond. She took of into the air, and was at Pheonix wing in minutes. She studying the building for a moment, at the roof that was being dismantled by builders and their Magic, before landing straight through the roof. She crouched, absorbing the impact just in time to hear "Which one of you wants to die first?" She rose and said "I guess that would be me" she looked over her should at Master Jamie, and smiled"if you don't mind, Master. I'll take the trash out. I suggest you take the little one and check there's no more trash to take out" she turned back to this woman, and made a hmmm sound. "you know, I have never used this magic before. I suppose it works just as well on people as it does phoenix's" Her flames engulfed her in a more define sense, taking on the shape of a Phoenix in a way that she had never done before-or at least while she was with Phoenix Wing. "flames of the Phoenix" firey whips formed, and Penny gripped them, the flames dancing, as she twisted her hands, both whips moving around smoothly like snakes teisting around the woman. "song of the Phoenix: Nox" music would fill the air, but it was only directed at the woman. Others would just hear beautiful music, while Penny hoped the woman would...sleep. Jarvis Jarvis didn't even hesitate, darting upstairs he snatched the locket up along the way. Why hadn't he thought to protect her? Because he didn't know there were people wanting her. People like that. The magic council would want her, but they wouldn't hurt her. As he ran, he activated several Lacrima, virtually locking down the place so that no one could come in that didn't have the guilds mark, as well as those in the city warming up, ready for a signal. "Amelia!" he crashed against the door before finding the knob and opening it Master Jamie Master Jamie nodded, and knelt, scooping up Elsye into her arms, looking to Ayame "come child. It isn't safe" he said softly, holding out a hand to Ayame and waiting for her to take it, glancing over her shoulder as Penny fought. Sasha "didn't love you? How can you be so foolish?" the anger in Sasha's voice rose a few levels, and her fists clenched. She knew that she was probably making a scene, but she didn't care. "can you not imagine how hard it would have been for her? Alreadyd leaving one child, to then leave another? She would have had to have a damn good reason to do it, and she only would have done it out of the greatest love. So don't stand there and say she didn't love you. Don't you dare". But now, Sasha's voice break, and emotion other than anger filled it. Her mother hadn't loved her or Ben enough to stay. Sasha was sure she could have, sure she could have survived the icey waters, but she hadn't. She had chosen death, rather than her children. How Sasha hated knowing that. How she wished she didn't. "at least you have something from them! I have nothing!" and now she wanted comfort. She turned tonLazarus "fairy tails dead. Long gone, but descendants still live. I don't know anything other than that. But I know you're lucky to have something connected to mother and father" her voice had softened, "you want to know me? There's nothing to know. I just am." she sunk down in her seat, more weary then she ever had been. "I crawled out of the ice because of my magic. Do you know, what its like, to know that your family died and you didn't, because of magic? I despised it for a long time, until my mentor found me and showed me the...life magic had." a single ice butterfly formed in front of her, and seemed to sparkle, as it fluttered around. "such beauty" she sighed softly, looking over to Shujin. "I found a home in Phoenix Wing. A family. Friends. I'd never had friends before. And I still don't know why Lazarus loves me. And then Penny came along. Told me that she was my blood. And I felt like I wasn't struggling so much. Every day I felt like I was drowning, just that little bit more in the icey waters. But Phoenix Wing? penny? Lazarous? My friends?" she waved a hand at Trinity, at Prince, Even Nero "I feel like I don't have to struggle and can just...float. I'll never say no to family. But I just don't understand. penny would have been easier to track, to find. Why me?"</s>
<|message|>Prince Fiore || Magnolia || Train Station Interacting: Sasha, Shujin The tall feline simply chuckled in response to Sasha, winking a little playfully. He had guessed she wouldn't be the type to hit him for that. Unless he did something pretty bad, she seemed pretty forgiving. Nice girl really. That, and maybe she just wasn't sure if this was normal behavior for his kind. Most humans seem to disregard that, in which Prince usually did in turn just to annoy them. Prince's ears twitched at the conversation, slightly lowering in a attempt to stop the loud ringing caused by Sasha loud shouts of anger. Being this close to them hurt his sensitive ears. But he didn't complain and only cracked his good eye open to watch the two, possibly, bickering siblings. Sasha's shouts were drawing other passengers looks, staring in confusion, curiousity and fear. Her tirade was understandable, but not quite the tactful place to have one. After all, normal people tended to fear wizards when they got mad. It made them uneasy and think the train was about to explode. She was also sharing quite a bit of her past in the open in her anger. What sort of surprised him the most is when she motioned to the rest of them as her 'family' or friends. Even though she had barely just met two of them who weren't Guildmembers, and had little interaction with the other. It could be seen as quite naive, but it showed she did have a caring heart. Stretching a little, Prince hummed and smiled brightly, despite the tense situation. "Now now, don't raise that pretty voice of yours. You'll start cracking it and cause people to worry." he said to Sasha with a smile and patted her knee comfortly with a deep purr in a minor attempt for the sound to sloth her a little, his tail flicking a bit to the rest of the passengers and subtly notified her growing silent audience. "How about this handsome gentleman take a seat with us and you two can calmly explain your sides of the story mhm?" he suggested with a hum. This little family situation he probably shouldn't but into since he really didn't know much about it. Though it was interesting to listen to.</s>
<|description|>Claire Dunn Age: 24 Appearance: Profession: Lion tamer Bio: Claire was abandoned on the doorstep of an orphanage at a young age, but ended up running away with a friend of hers when she was 8, because she hated living there. The two joined the circus who'd arrived in town and was allowed to travel with the circus as long as they made themselves useful. Claire was amazed by all the animals at the circus, but especially the lions and the tigers. She became the apprentice of the current lion tamer and learned everything from him. In time, he left the circus to settle down and start a family, by then Claire had to take over as the circus' lion tamer. She's got some horrifying scars on her arms and legs, but that was from when she was careless and inexperienced. She smells like one of the big cats herself most of the time, and she's recognized as one of them by now. Name: Elena Dragomirov Age: 47 Appearance: Profession: Circus director/Magician Bio: Elena is russian and took over the circus about ten years ago. She used to be the circus magician before that. There's not a lot more known about her. There's rumours that her magic is more than just tricks and illusions. Name: Solomon Age: 6 Appearance:</s> <|message|>Kathryn McIntire Kate sighed and stepped away from Claire, shaking her head to herself. As much as Kate didn't want Claire to go off alone and be a potential target to whatever forces were at work here, she couldn't ignore the cold tone and distaste that Claire was directing at her. It was clear she didn't want to be anywhere near her at the moment, but they were under some unfortunate circumstances. Claire was right though, she probably would be perfectly safe surrounded by her big cats. If not for their fierceness, the sight of them alone would be enough to stave off any potential attacker who was not familiar with them. Kate supposed that if she wanted to be left alone then she would give her space once they made it to the animal keeps. "Fine. If you want to be left alone with the cats then so be it." Kate mumbled before walking in the direction of the cages. She cared about Claire's well being, but she wasn't going to stick around if she was going to be treated coldly by her most valued friend. Kate supposed that once Claire was safely with her creatures, Kate would leave her alone as she wished. The effects of the dream seemed to have no negative effect on any of the trio's awakened life except Kate's. Elijah and Claire had been freed from a fear, while Kate's was slowly developing before her eyes. It scared her, but she decided to not worry until Claire had had time to process what exactly Kate had admitted to her in the dreamland. Kate didn't feel like talking anymore after Claire's comment, so she left the answering of her question to Eli. He followed behind the girls and shrugged his shoulders. "Well first we need to figure out what we're dealing with. And I think in order to do that we need to figure out what kind of mumbo-jumbo Elena was rattling off in the big top. But I doubt she'll be willing to just tell us, so you two better grab your spy gear." He chuckled, trying to lighten the damp mood that was surrounding the group, but to no avail. They walked the rest of the way in silence, arriving at the cages a few minutes later. There was a peculiar feel to the area, but Kate attributed it to her general nervousness. Kate stopped when they got nearer to Solomon's keep and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well here we are, if this is where you feel the safest then Eli and I will leave you to it. Besides, it would serve us well to go gather some of our blades to keep on hand anyways." Kate didn't bother making eye contact with Claire again after the looks of resentment that she had already thrown her way, so she turned to walk towards their training area where the weapons were kept. "We'll be back later, holler if you need."</s> <|message|>Claire Dunn Yes, I do want to be left alone to think. Thank you for finally listening to what I'm saying, Kate. That's so very considerate of you to do after forcing me to snap at you. She tightened her fists as she thought about screaming those words at Kate. Ugh, she was being even more insufferable than she usually was when Claire turned her down. "That's nice." Claire said. It was all she could manage without screaming at Kate that maybe finding out someone you'd known since you were children suddenly wanted to fuck you wasn't something a normal person would react any better to than she had. She was so glad when Elijah interrupted the silence and actually answered her question. "I don't know. I think she may be willing to talk if she's still around." Claire said. "Elena never seemed like an evil person to me, even if she may be hard to deal with at times. Competition is fierce even when you're the biggest and best like we are." Claire shrugged. They could always try to talk with Elena afterwards too, as long as they didn't get caught trying to find out what the woman had been doing. They were more than her as well. Claire didn't want to start a witch hunt, but they could probably rile up enough people from the circus that wanted answers as well. Elena would be pressed to answer them somehow then. They reached the cages, and Claire sighed in relief to find the area undisturbed. She'd not been all that afraid that something may have happened to her kittens, but at least there were no nasty surprises waiting for her either. "Of course this is where I feel safest." Claire smiled with her whole being. It was her home among home, her sanctuary where she could feel protected and be left alone when others wanted to bother her. It was where her family lived, even though she had never had a large family she had one when she had her cats. "Cheer up, Kate." She sighed, but apparently it had to be this way because Kate couldn't give her even one hour to gather her thoughts. It wasn't like she could do anything about the confusion she felt. If Kate wanted to distance herself from Claire because of it, it would be a shame, but it would not be her fault in the end. She hoped this would just be another one of their fights years from now, assuming they had survived the events at the circus by then. Claire entered the cage of Solomon, after making sure the rest of her big cats were well fed and alright. She sat herself with her back against his stomach where he was lying. She spent a long while trying to gather her thoughts, but she felt mostly annoyed by the way Kate had acted. Finally, she managed to gather her thoughts about the two of them together as more than friends by talking to Solomon. She kept her voice low and whispering.</s> <|message|>Kathryn McIntire Elijah and Kate walked mostly in silence as they weaved their way between wagons and tents towards the weapons range. Kate's mind was heavy as she trudged along, her eyes aimed at her feet while she silently cursed and had arguments with herself. Why was is that she was the one being punished here? She hadn't done anything wrong, other than profess her suppressed feelings for her best friend. Ugh, if she had just suppressed them further maybe they would have disappeared altogether and they wouldn't be in this mess right now. Of course it was her fault, she couldn't just be 'normal' like all the other people in the world. No, that would be too easy. Instead she had to have the most difficult rendering of reality possible for her. Then again, she didn't deserve the disappointing look that Claire threw at her either. After all, if she hadn't done what she had they would probably still be trapped in that crazy nightmare, forever doomed. She continued to mumble to herself and throw her hands around like a mad person while she walked. Eli raised an eyebrow at her but let her be while they walked, nodding to passing coworkers while they walked through a commons area and shrugging when they pointed at Kate with a confused expression. They arrived at the place where they kept their weapons and practiced their acts all too often. But something was off. There was some type of gelatinous goop covering the chests that the weapons were kept in, and the wooden targets standing several yards away appeared to be bloodstained. Kate approached cautiously, blinking several times and rubbing her eyes before turning to Elijah. "You... see this too, right?" She asked. "Unfortunately, yes..." He approached the chest and opened it up. The contents were liquefied, the slimy substance coating the entire thing and filing it nearly to the brim. Eli grimaced, but kicked the chest over to empty it out. It nearly appeared as if the weapons had been dissolved by whatever the stuff was. It spilled out in a giant plop, coating the ground. "We should get out of here before whatever did this comes back... I've got more blades at my wagon, we can stop by there before heading back to Claire." Kate said as she had to keep herself from gagging at the sight of the gelatin goo that spread from the crate. Elijah nodded and wiped his hands with a kerchief from his pocket, tossing it to the ground after his hands were cleaned. They made it to her wagon and both entered, cautiously at first after what had been witnessed earlier near the wagons. Once Kate saw it was safe, she closed the door behind them and opened her closet. She retrieved her own throwing blades and holster before handing a larger knife to Eli, which he placed at his side. "You know, Katie, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself." Eli said after a few moments of silence. To which, she raised her eyebrow in speculation. "With Claire, I mean. Give her some time, you just dropped something big on her. 'Bout damn time you did too." "Wait, you knew?" Her mouth fell slightly agape. Eli chuckled and nodded, "Well, it wasn't that hard to figure it out. Not after the multitude of times you ignored my attempts at flirting that is." He smiled softly, "I wondered why you blew me off, but then I started to pay attention to the way you looked at her, every time she was around." Kate's face turned red and she let her jaw drop. It had never occurred to her that Eli had tried to make advances on her, though now that he mentioned it... she swallowed the lump in her throat and had to sit down. "Why didn't you tell me?" He shrugged, "What was there to tell? I love you Katie, but I've moved past those feelings for you. You love her, you just need to let her realize that." Kate was still a bit embarrassed, but she was able to gather her thoughts and talk to Elijah about it. Strange as it may be, it made her feel better about the situation. She realized she needed to back off and give herself and Claire a break. They finished their chat after a while and decided it was time to head back to the big cat enclosures to make sure nothing strange happened there like back at the practice range.</s>
<|message|>Claire Dunn Claire feared what would happen if things didn't work out between them, even if Kate got what she seemed to want there were no guarantees. They had worked great as friends for years, so perhaps they would work just as great as a couple. What if they didn't though? What if everything continued to fall apart after they solved this situation? Maybe they had been inevitably pushed down a slippery slope towards an end neither wanted by all of these events, but then she should try to hold onto her friend through the fall, right? Another aspect to consider was how thoroughly inexperienced she was with any of this. Her first kiss had been in a strange shared nightmare, like half an hour earlier, so by any count it probably hadn't even happened yet. How could it have if it was a dream? She wondered if Kate was more experienced than her, or if it would dissuade her from pursuing any relationship with Claire. Weirdly, that made her feel a bit sad and angry at the same time. She'd been led to believe men wanted to marry inexperienced women, so why would Kate think she had any right to judge her based on that? She calmed herself down by telling herself all of those concerns were in her head. She couldn't possibly know what Kate wanted in a partner. She thought she could have once, but clearly she must have been so wrong. Claire had teased her for being into Elijah, assuming they did things together when she was not around that would make others blush. Now she had to wonder if all they ever did of that nature was talk about what Kate wanted to do with Claire. Were they like two guys in that way? That made her blush. Claire went to retrieve her whip after she had remained motionless in thought inside of Solomon's cage for what felt like too long. She needed to distract herself from thinking, not think more; especially not along the lines she had been doing it. She found snakes where she would have usually stored her whips. It confused her at first, but she picked them up and threw them in a nearby barrel. Only one of her whips were still around, apparently someone had thought they were being funny when they exchanged the rest with snakes. She returned to Solomon's cage, where she found her friends waiting. Claire didn't know what she was supposed to do to show she was at least accepting of Kate as she was, no matter what that meant. In the end, she went up to her side and took her hand in her own, squeezing it lightly. "So what do we do now? Go slay the evil witch?" Claire made a bad attempt at a laugh, which sounded more false and nervous than anything else. "I don't think Elena is any worse than any other boss normally, so maybe we should hear her out before we do anything drastic?"</s>
<|description|>Akena Appearance: Yggdrasil/New World: YGGDRASIL Race: Homunculus Gender: Female Character Level: 92 Alignment: 210 Racial Class: N/A Job Class: Oracle 10 Hierophant 10 Seer of Vanaheim 5 Wizard 10 High Wizard 10 Scholar 10 Forbidden Scholar 7 Other 30 Fighting Style: Akena rarely fights and is ill-suited to combat, so she mainly focuses on support spells and buffing. However, if cornered, she will unleash a staggering arsenal of spells to overwhelm her opponent or make an opportunity to retreat. Strengths: A powerful spellcaster in her own right, she can command nature itself and tug on the threads of fate. Her heightened awareness and passive foresight abilities make her highly evasive and allows her to counterspell her opponent's magic easily. While offensive magic is not her specialty, her raw magical strength and MP is far greater than even December's, making even low-tier spells extremely potent. Weaknesses: Her powers of foresight come at price. Unable to contain the divine power within their bodies, all Oracles suffer from some kind of debilitating curse. In Akena's case, she is cursed with sloth. She is often plagued with fatigue and drowsiness. Although she can remain active for brief periods of time without much issue, she must rest for at least twice as long as she was active. In effect, if she's active for an hour, she must rest for at least two hours. She can push herself, but if she remains active for more than half a day, she must rest for the next three. This makes it difficult for her to participate normally in most quests, and inhibits her ability to function in a party. Equipment/Abilities Worthy of Note: Veil of the Starry Heavens - This ornate veil made of silk and lace is a divine-class item imbued with a sacred blessing. The veil creates a divine sanctuary effect and makes it seem morally and viscerally wrong to harm the wearer, regardless of race or intelligence. Enemy AI automatically treat the wearer as the lowest priority target. When a Player casts a hostile spell at the wearer, the caster receives an unresistable, sacred debuff that burns extra MP. If physically assaulted, the attacker will receive similar sacred debuffs to their strength and accuracy. All debuffs only apply if the wearer is targeted by a spell or attack, and immediately disappears when the attacker begins to target someone (or something) else. Reliquary Heart - This smooth, round stone could have easily been taken from a river bed. It would be otherwise unremarkable except for the fissures that trace angelic patterns along its entire surface and spew forth pale, silvery motes of light. This is Akena's Heartstone and it contains part of her soul. It acts as a permanent scrying focus, so she can sense the environment around it as if she were there herself, and may communicate telepathically with anyone holding it. She always knows its exact location and can cast spells through the stone regardless of distance. If the heartstone no more than 10 meters away, Akena may retreat into the heartstone as a purely spiritual entity. She can freely manifest her physical body if she wishes. However, if she is farther away, she must sacrifice her physical form and cannot manifest a physical body again for at least one week afterward. If Akena is ever killed, her heartstone becomes inert and stops glowing. Akena can be killed normally or by destroying her heartstone. December keeps this item in her possession at all times, and as the creator of the stone, can forcibly make Akena retreat into it. Foresight (Passive) - Akena's mind is subconsciously attuned to sensing ripples in time. She can react to dangerous events that occur a few moments into the future before they actually happen, such as dodging an arrow by hair's breadth or stepping over a tripwire at the last second. This kind of foresight doesn't actually confer any knowledge of what's about to happen; her mind and body simply react to the impending danger. Augury - Tapping into the vagaries of Fate, Akena can determine important events in the near future that dramatically affect either her or a person she designates. The problem lies in once someone knows about a future event, the event itself is no longer immutable and inevitable. Additionally, once Akena looks into the future, her meddling leaves a permanent mark in the cosmic tapestry of Fate, so any other seer can see where she looked and what she did. Blood Biography - This spell requires a drop of blood or significant piece of the target's body to function; the target may be living or dead, and need not be present for the spell to work. Once cast, the spell creates floating arcane text made of blood and describes the owner of the blood (or body part) in great detail. Akena can determine its gender, race, most commonly used name, how and when their blood was spilled, what type of magic source they can use (if any), how many times they have reincarnated, who their current immediate relatives are (but by itself can't distinguish between parent, sibling or offspring), Consecration Aura (Passive) - As living conduit to the realm of gods, her body overflows with divine energy. Weak undead and cursed creatures take holy damage just by being near her. Stronger undead and most demons instead feel intense discomfort or nausea. Her aura can purify desecrated areas, cursed objects, and so on, but her aura is slow-acting and the stronger the effect, the longer it takes for her aura to purify it. A defiled crypt may take an hour, but a blighted forest or cursed farmland may require her presence for several days. By default it purifies any food or drink she touches, and makes her immune to disease and most poisons. Bio: Akena was born from the first ultra-rare data crystal December ever received. It was during the Revenants of Vanaheim, where random incursions of small armies of mobs would spawn in key places. The revenants themselves weren't the problem, but the sheer numbers and persistence made it difficult. There was a special achievement for any player could defeat the entire army of revenants single-handedly. However, very few ever got it. If even one mob out of a thousand died due to another player's interference, no one could get the achievement for that instance. December was one of only a hundred or so to get the achievement and the prize for earning it. December set herself to the task of making her first homunculus shortly thereafter. With data crystals she had, she knew she could make a unique NPC and her imagination ran wild for days as she agonized over how to make it. Paralyzed by too much choice, in the end, she decided to keep the recipe simple: copious amounts of December's own blood, crystallized sunbeams from Alfheim, acorn meal retrieved from one of Ratatoskr's well-hidden stashes, the plumes of an eagle to enhance wisdom, and high-quality base materials to balance out the other ingredients. Together they created a superior quality homunculus with the highest possible aptitude for magic. In real life, December was never very close to her little sister, Phuong, but always wanted to be. They rarely got along and would fight over the most trivial things. To her great regret, their bad blood continued even into adulthood. With no easy way to make amends, she saw an opportunity in her new homunculus. She fashioned Akena after her little sister, and bought cash items to improve her AI. December practiced talking with Akena as if she were family, hoping that she might figure out a way to reconnect with her little sister through roleplaying with an NPC version of her. Even with the improved NPC responses, however, her personality was little different than a sophisticated chat bot. December tried to make the best of it though; in time, she came to enjoy Akena's company as it was the closest thing to a functional sibling relationship she'd ever have. How a normal human would view me: An elven maiden in the prime of her youth.</s> <|message|>Brandon Lake Accidental double post. was meant to edit my post.</s> <|message|>Angel of Law, Lexus Dominiel Lexus Dominiel was nodding along with Himitsu's sudden declaration that they were a religious band, united in their devotion, up until she said the name 'Beyonce', at which point Lexus Dominiel couldn't help but clench its fists in fury and indignation. How could Priestess Himitsu refer to any other than December as the 'One True God'? Lexus Dominiel had to keep reminding itself that this was a ruse, and that, as a goddess and a priestess, Himitsu out-ranked Lexus Dominiel. Still, Lexus Dominiel wondered if December would smite down Himitsu for her insolence. Then Lexus Dominiel began to sense a form of magic emanating from Lady Danielle, wondering if Danielle was going to use her mind-controlling magic in the first place, why did Himitsu even have to say such a thing? They passed through the gates while the guards were still in a trance, though Lexus Dominiel's urge to smite Himitsu was slowly rising. As Danielle chided Himitsu, Lexus Dominiel's fury began to subside. It was a mistake, an error in judgment, and Lady December will forgive, Lexus Dominiel thought to itself. At that point, Lexus Dominiel's attention was drawn toward December. Lexus Dominiel offered both its hands to accept its mission with solemnity. While angels were a perfect creation, they had no choice but to obey the Creator. Mortals on the other hand, were imperfect, but had free will. Thus, their choice to obey their creator was more beloved to their creator than an angel's unquestioning obedience. If a mortal chose to obey December, they were higher even, than angels. If a mortal chose to disobey December, they were accursed, and far beneath all of creation, worthy of eternal damnation. Akena, who Lexus Dominiel recalled from their time in the previous world, was December's mortal prophetess and friend, while Lexus Dominiel was merely a servant. Though Lexus Dominiel was December's first creation and perfect in a naive, theoretical sense, Akena was December's final creation, ultimate and complete, nuanced and subtle, capable of free will, like the gods themselves. "I will protect her with every fiber of my being," Lexus Dominiel declared. Upon hearing that December wished to go to the Mage's Guild, rather than find lodging, Lexus Dominiel asked, "Shall I follow you to ascertain your place of lodging first, or shall I head straight to the temple until I am summoned?"</s>
<|message|>Akena December Algorithm "As long as you keep Akena safe, you're free to do as you please, Lexus. Just don't cause trouble for the people here." She hesitated upon speaking those last few words. If she were honest with herself, she was more concerned about Lexus stirring up trouble than Himitsu. Its narrow view of the world was troublesome enough, that fact that December herself was the center of it only complicated matters further. While she appreciated his loyalty, she didn't enjoy having to choose her words carefully around the golem, and wouldn't mind a little bit of time apart. "Once we find lodging, I'll come find you." Keeping track of his whereabouts wouldn't be too hard. December was bonded with Akena in more ways than one. In YGGDRASIL, she could pull up the map and see where Akena and her heartstone were. Even though the map feature was now unavailable, she intuitively knew where they were at all times. It was just one of many strange things December had to acclimate to during their trip. --- Faithful of Tesarion "My great-grandmother prophesied that a savior would come during my generation," she said with quivering lips. "We've awaited your return for centuries. Even I began to question my faith." Tears streamed down Lethe's cheeks as she struggled with a tumultuous roil of emotion, but her eyes held an implacable resolve. "We can finally sing a song of victory!" The others began rejoicing loudly. Every one of them began singing an upbeat tune which instilled any listener with an exuberant energy. As if having broken an invisible dam, magic filled the air, heavy and oppressive, but warm and inviting like a summer rain. Motes of golden light began to collect along the ground and float into the air, only to dissolve into the winds blowing overhead. The performance was infectious. The fog began to clear as the precession danced their way out of the ruins: every step, twist, and turn flawlessly coordinated to match the rhythm of the choir. Every blade of grass danced along with them; every stretch of vine pulsed to their music, and the diminutive streams held a faint amber glow. "Yes, Lord Kalduk!" Lethe brushed away her tears of joy and bent forward, quickly bowing to SilverCoffee in reverence. "Please forgive me! I've gotten carried away. I swear on my life that I will become the finest servant of Tesarion to have ever lived." She drew in a breath, trying to calm herself. Is... is this a test? Lethe almost ventured a direct look at her lord and savior when he broached such questions. I will not fail! "We have done just as you bid and stayed true to our Blood Oath, keeping our history alive in dance, song and prose. The high priestess whom martyred herself at your altar to become the bridge between this world and the Lands of Fright is my honored ancestor. As the first servant of Tesarion, her blessing of divine knowledge resides in my heart now." Her hand unconsciously moved to cover her chest. "Only through blood rituals have we been able to preserve it." Tears began to well in her eyes again as she boldly met SilverCoffee's gaze. "I must confess I know only what the Lords taught my ancestor before they left to defeat the Neverborn, but the memories of our people flow through my blood. If it is your desire my Lord Kalduk, then I will offer my heart to you, so you may feast upon on it, drink my blood, and learn everything I know for yourself." Lethe hesitated to speak. The words caught in her throat as a glimmer of fear raced behind her eyes. It was fleeting, and quickly replaced with a shining resolve. "My duty is fulfilled in guiding you home. You have the power to call the other Lords of Tesarion, so the first servant is no longer needed. I would never presume to overstep my bounds and will gladly sacrifice myself for you."</s>
<|description|>'Rags', of the Western Valleys Aliases: scarecrow, devil child, the cannibal. Sex: Female Age: Fifteen Class: Scavenger Brief Description Height And Build: Small, hunched stature. Lean and wiry. Skin Tone: Tanned and burned from sun overexposure, and eternally bruised. Marred with dirt that no cleaning could ever wash off. Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Black Equipment Rags wears nothing but a very immodest yet warm pelt made from the hide of mountain goats and one mountain lion, which was her 'coming of age' kill. In terms of weapons, she has a stone dagger with a handle made smooth by repeated use, as well as a tapered-edged stone bludgeoning tool halfway between a club and an axe. Though she will be given her own small sword to train with. Combat Abilities People may say that her teacher fights "like a feral cave-lion" as a compliment until they see Rags fight and realize that fighting like a wild, untrained animal might not be the best thing, because Rags' combat style is halfway between 'wolf' and 'bull ape wildly swinging a stick'. Though she is strong, savage, and if she actually manages to pin you, might do something very regrettable to anything within range of her teeth, even a desert-dweller with a basic grasp of swordplay can best her with ease in her current state. That said she is an intelligent girl and a very quick learner. Backstory In this cruel world, the strong took from the weak, and this often had bad outcomes for the weak. But those who didn't die fled to anywhere with less competition. Knowing that society, hierarchy and even too many humans in the same spot would cause history to repeat, the strong to rise up and the weak to be oppressed again, the People of the Mountains and Valleys stuck together in small groups no greater than six, and only one man was permitted per group. They hunted with their intelligence, and passed down the techniques of traps, snares, and primitive stone weapons to their offspring, but with less education, the intelligence diminished until the People of the Mountains died out from dehydration and the People of the Valleys were nothing but small tribes of hunter-gatherers, receded to cavemen, albeit cavemen with language, wells and technology, and the tales passed down on rules to survive, to repeat the sins of the past. To the mountainous range to the West of the known world, food was growing scarce, and the People of the Western Valley developed cannibalistic tendencies, and fought with and ate their rival tribes of six or less. They had rediscovered war. And as such, learned that besides hunting, they needed to teach themselves how to fight fellow humans, developing their own unique and feral brand of combat. 'Rags' was born into this era, a girl trained to speak and hunt and fight and to not repeat the sins of the past, and that was all she knew. But these skills didn't serve them well when her tribe ventured too far into the desert planes at the wrong time, and encountered a group of real fighters, with real combat training and real, metal weapons. The rest of Rags' tripe was wiped out but she was captured. They could use her. They could train her to fight in their style, and when she was old enough, this tanned, unusual girl would be coveted for her uniqueness, and men would fight over the right to marry her. Of course, she was too naive to realize what an honor it was to be chosen, to be taught by the woman who was to be her teacher...</s> <|message|>'Rags', of the Western Valleys Rags' life had become one of strangeness and learning, among the men who slaughtered her tribe. She had initially tried multiple times to enact revenge, before slowly coming to see this group as their new tribe. Though there were a lot of new rules to get her head around. For starters, she was the only woman in this group, which is the exact opposite of the Harem-like build of the tribes of the Valleys. They did seem to have something called 'marriage' to prevent mating from being a problem with this backwards, inefficient system. Rags didn't quite understand it yet. They explained other things as they traveled, such as heir weapons, which were sharp and made of metal, as opposed to Rags' crude stone knife and club. They claimed they were taking her to be trained in combat, as only then would she have any worth as a person. She'd either die in this school, or come out the other side an exotic, deadly warrior worth marrying, as a status symbol. All of the men laid claim to her, and who would take her was to be decided if and when she stayed alive. There was something about how they talked about this which rubbed Rags up the wrong way, as if she would be property to them. Maybe it was just their strange, dialect. They spoke more words in a sentence in the deserts and caves than in the valleys. They thought her simple because of her dialect, but in truth she was a very intelligent girl. She thought them needlessly complicated because of their dialect, but you could not find a group of simpler men. After weeks of travel, they arrived at the gates. Rags was marveling at this sight. This was not a cave, nor a cave made of cloth, called a 'tent'. This was a small valley, in the middle of the desert, with smooth, tall walls, and an entrance barred by metal beams like the swords the men she traveled with used. They were let in, and Rags found herself looking up at more strangely dressed men like the ones she was travelling with, not adorned with pelts but with cloth and metal shaped to their body. And one woman. The first woman she had seen since the death of her tribe. Shed never seen a woman so muscular, and her fearsome confidence was nothing like the anxious fight-or-flight state of a Valley Person before combat. This was a woman who believed she could win any fight, and didn't view them as encounters were anyone's life may be lost. Rags marveled at this unusual (in her experience) female.</s> <|message|>Aibhilin of Bhilinai's Tear (Ah-ve-linn; Ve-linn-ah's). "I think she's trying to figure out if you're a man with tits, or a she bear," Devlin proffered to no one in particular at the sight of the girl eying the camp, its occupants, and especially the Doctora after the gate had been wedged open and the troop had entered the main courtyard, captive in tow. Devlin himself was smaller than Aibhilin, and was every bit the barbarian born he had been taken as by the Auxiliary. From the Whit'Mar freehold all the way across the Wastes and North of the accepted border established during the First Crusade, he had only wound up here through a series of poor decisions made as a young fortune seeker intending on returning to his warband a hero, slaves and wealth trailing in his wake. Instead he had taken a bolt to the right shoulder in his first engagement and wound up a slave in the fighting pits of the Southeast, before being offered up to the Empire to take the place of his owner's son in the mandatory tribal Auxiliary drives of the late seventies. None of that would matter to this girl, though. If she was an Imperial subject she wasn't from anywhere Aibhilin had ever heard of. Once she had gotten through the gate and set her eyes upon the Doctora it was immediately apparent just how tan she really was. Not necessarily particularly dark skinned by birth, but tan. An oddity to be sure, someone the imperials would have wanted as a house slave more than a brutish pit fighter. Must have been from a nomadic tribe, born above ground in a place that wasn't as prone to the erratic weather she would be sure to get her fill of here. She had gotten lucky to have been taken by the group she had been for what it was worth, considering she no doubt only survived because of her youth and had almost certainly lost those closest to her in the engagement. It wasn't legal for the Auxiliary to take personal slaves as such, let alone to sell them for personal gain. They were in the employ of the Empire and couldn't profit from their duty until leaving the service, but that didn't mean the occasional especially high value person didn't fall through the cracks and wind up being exchanged for bronze shards behind closed doors. The troop were either too foolish to note her worth to the right buyer, or were more committed to the cause then the average by far. None of that mattered now, not anymore. She'd been presented to a school, and from here the involvement of the Auxiliary as an official Imperial body would come to an end one way or the other. This barbarian girl was now a subject of the empire, and would either take the sacramenta and join the camp for which her employer would pay the Empire a finder's fee, or she would be given a day's provisions and pointed towards the nearest settlement, the one which provided Australos with its own provisions and food stuffs, to live out her life as a subsistence level forager. There was no way to keep her from simply returning back to where she had been taken by the troop in the first place of course, and no one would blink or try to stop her if she waited until the Auxiliary moved off and took the same route she'd been taken on to reach Australos back home. Knowing how the Auxiliary operate however, the chances that anything was left for her to go back home to were slim to none. In her experience most who went back turned around a day or two after getting home and realizing there was nothing left for them there volunteered at the camp. Chances were she had probably never seen so many people in one place in her life as she was about to see flooding into the courtyard. Australos wasn't a large outfit, only twenty to thirty fighters at any given time and a handful of paid staffers, but they were far larger than any group who could manage to survive jumping from hand-dug well to tiny natural spring out in the desert. The larger cities could only exist because of a direct access to a natural aquifer, and even most of them gravitated at around six hundred people in total. Everyone was aware of the arrival at this point, and they'd all made their way to the courtyard to get a look at the new recruit for themselves. Most were not enthused. Too small, female, barbarian, whatever their individual complaint was it was plainly visible that she wasn't going to be quick in making friends of her potential fellow fighters. She shouldn't take it personally. Fight camps were tight knit units, and most would rather a small group who'd known one another for years then outsiders of unknown skill and intent joining the stable, but they didn't say anything out loud. They knew what came next, and would hold their tongue until it was passed. Aibhilin neither smiled nor glowered toward the youth as she sized her up. She didn't much like looking at people like they were meat, had too much experience on the other end of the ordeal to appreciate being the one preforming the visual dance of half passionless stare down half cold hard napkin arithmetic. It was costly to train a fighter, and every one they took who didn't come out of their first engagement alive was a significant monetary loss to the camp. Aibhilin looked the girl in the eyes only after carefully examining her every other feature in a process that left her feeling like she needed to bathe. She had curiosity in those eyes of her's, and the glimmer of intelligence. Aibhilin herself was not known for her intellect, nor her appreciation of those who thought they could think their way around an axe to the head, but it was enough to come to her decision. "This is a camp. We fight other camps for food, hides, metal," she tapped at the long blade hanging from her sword belt to emphasize the possibly foreign term, "we protect our own. You can stay here and be a camp fighter like us, or go home. Your choice," the Auxililary wouldn't appreciate the, "or go home," bit, but outsiders hound them. The choice would be this girl's regardless of the troop's opinion on the matter.</s>
<|message|>'Rags', of the Western Valleys "I know she woman" Rags relied up at Devlin with a challenging tone. She was starting to get a bit tired of being treated like a half-wit just because she had to learn what these people took for granted. Her dialect once more got a few smirks and nasty laughter from the hostile onlookers, and her upper lip snarled in response to this reaction like an animal cornered. She did not feel welcome here. Which made it all the more strange to her that the muscular woman was offering her a choice to join. Rags was used to a system where the man chose. He would either take you into the harem or kick you out, though that was never without a good reason. It was in everybody's best interest to keep a group of six; five women and a man, as that was the optimal tripe makeup in her culture. There were too many people here. Wouldn't they fight? How do they share food and resources? Then again, that question had been answered for her now she thought about it. They take those things from other groups, who might be as large as this. Here, combat between humans wasn't a battle for land that neither party wanted, but that happened because neither party wanted to lose good land either and retreat to the mountains. Here, combat was the primary method of gathering necessities. No wonder they placed such value in it as opposed to the art of hunting. Without the rest of her tribe, Rags knew she could not survive alone for very long. The default action for a lone Valley Person was to find a new tribe that would take them, and join. So there was no doubt in her mind what she would do here. "Stay here. Learn arts required me. Not survive outside. Confused. What is 'Home'?" she replied, but despite the minimalist structure of her language, there was no stuttering or sign of struggle. She spoke quickly, confidently, and with that same spark of intelligence that showed in her eyes. Then again, the language of barbarians and savages was known for having evolved and mutated into one that didn't waste words, and conveyed a message as fast as possible because the time taken to speak nouns, adjectives and definite articles might be the difference between life and death in their harsh living conditions.</s>
<|description|>Kirsi Eirisphere Age: 17 Gender: Female Personality: Kirsi could be considered a bit eccentric if it wasn't for the fact that all mages are eccentric in their own ways already. She's energetic and happy-go-lucky, almost a goofball when it comes to her outward personality. However, her values are warped to the point that she's completely ok with cursing people in horrible ways and literally grafting their souls to the dolls that she uses her familiars. That said, Kirsi isn't an evil person, she won't go out of her way to hurt others unless it's absolutely necessary. Appearance: Skills: Aside from magecraft related stuff, Kirsi's only noteworthy skill is sewing which she does not only because her magic demands it but hobby that she caught over the years. Abilities: As a traditionally schooled magus, Kirsi has all of the basics covered, with a knowledge of general magecraft, with an expertise in curses (especially the ever-popular Gandr) and bounded fields. Her family's signature magecraft is soul transference and spirit binding. Kirsi employs it in an unorthodox manner; binding wraiths to mystic codes shaped like plush dolls (particularly damaged-looking teddy bears) that she carries around as key chains. With a minimal infusion of magical energy, the dolls are turned back to their normal size and do Kirsi's bidding. They attack with vicious claws and fangs that carry curses from the vengeful spirits. In addition to her plushies, Kirsi has a sewing kit mystic code that has been passed down her family for generations, which she carries around in a pouch the whole time. It's collection a tools specialized for the creation of other mystic codes, but since they also carries a considerable number of curses of their own, they can be to fight other magi if need be. The most important items in the kit are a bundle of thread made from an ancient witch's hair, a set of needles made from narwhal tusks, and a pair of scissors whose blades are rumored to made from the shards of a demonic sword. Lastly, as per the Eirisphere family tradition, Kirsi doesn't have a proper Crest like most orthodox magi. Instead she carries the whole history of her family's magecraft in a special, partially-autonomous puppet that contains not only their accumulated knowledge but also the very spirits of her ancestors. Originally, this special variation of a Family Crest used to take the form of a throne, but Kirsi used her weird genius to turn it into its current form. Any magus other than the chosen heir of their bloodline that tries to use the knowledge embedded in the Eirisphere's crest will end up experiencing the worst curses that they have at their disposal. Brief Backstory: Kirsi is the latest heiress of the Eirisphere family; a not particularly ancient magus bloodline, having between two and three hundred years of magecraft practice. Their household is located in the lands under the jurisdiction of the Edelfelts, even though they remain mostly independent as long as they can keep honoring their leasing contract. While Kirsi is the most brilliant individual to be born in her family to this day, her quirkiness was a massive source of worries for her father. It was in fact one big surprise for everyone, including Kirisi, when she received the command seals that meant that she would have a chance to participate at the infamous ritual known as the Holy Grail War. ---</s> <|message|>Estelle Varianbec Estelle Varianbec, Master of Berserker "Mmmnn..." Estelle slowly stirred. Last night... her plan had fallen apart, hadn't it? Memories of the summoning slowly filled her mind as she blinked blearily. Her Berserker... that incredibly pretty lady, Minamoto no Raikou, had... well, she'd immediately dumped a whole load of concerns onto her. But not her plan, not at all, it was about her well-being. It wasn't as if Estelle didn't appreciate a Servant who felt she was so important and precious(of course she was, after all), but at the same time her entire plan for the night had been completely derailed. Ambushing a Master and Servant with one of the most powerful Samurai of Japanese history had seemed to be an excellent plan... but instead, every other Master had long since finished their business, and Estelle had begun to find it difficult to keep her eyes open. It wasn't as if her plan didn't have another chance(especially given the power of her Servant) but this... Gaah, she didn't need to be treated that way! ... Even if it wasn't bad, it was still... still... whatever! Rubbing her eyes again, Estelle clambered out of bed and yawned once more. Well... before anything else, she'd have to plan for the day before getting another chance to spring a trap on an enemy Servant... it was probably for the best to acclimate Berserker to the town, as well, to let her see what battlefield she'd be fighting in. Even after he strange start, the little girl was filled with nothing but boundless confidence. She was undeniably the strongest Master in the war, with one of the most powerful Servants. But for now... She headed downstairs, still in her pajamas. Her mansion was huge, likely one of the largest private residences in Redrock that still existed. And yet now there was only Estelle, Berserker, and her maids living within it... "... Berserker," she called, "I have an idea. We can take this chance to go out for breakfast and I can show you your battlefield!" She was already being followed by a gaggle of maids, some of whom were eyeing Berserker with jealousy. Did they think that she was trying to take their job? Some had already offered to help her bathe, but Estelle was on a mission she wanted to complete before anything else!</s> <|message|>Astrid Kim Astrid Kim Astrid had to admit that the suggestions that Lancer had put forth were valid, but it took a few moments of mulling both of the possibilities over to cause her to discard them. Ignoring the issue of the speed and safety of any given transmission, letters did require a return address. One slip-up, and the two of them would likely have to relocate—unless they wanted to be assaulted day and night by enemies vying for their heads. Once her Servant had picked out a set of clothes for herself (a suit, which Astrid found oddly fitting on her frame), the young woman nodded and promptly left her room. She made sure, of course, to lock the door on her way out after her Lancer left; there was no issue in being too cautious with security. A quick elevator ride down and a short walk away was all that the half-Valkyrie needed to find her destination—a diner that, in person, seemed a lot less flattering than it did on her phone. "Uh... Hm. Well... We may as well buy something here, then...?" she asked to herself before walking inside. The first thing to assault her nostrils was the smell of oil in the air, and it took her a good few seconds to adjust to the atmosphere in the room. The locale felt smaller on the inside than it looked, and after a few seconds of looking around in mild curiosity, a middle-aged lady behind the nearby counter-top waved at the two of them before directing them to a table near the window. "I hope I haven't made a poor decision this morning..." Astrid sighed to herself as she promptly took a seat where she was directed and a one-page menu (laminated, of course) was placed in front of her and her Servant by the same lady who had directed them there. "Take your time, all right?" she said before leaving both women behind to head back behind the counter. To this, Astrid could only scratch her head before going to read the menu. "Mmm... Coffee and a few pieces of toast should do fine for me," she remarked, glancing over the menu before handing it off to her Servant. "So... Thus far, we've made contact with Rider and Saber, and you've already ascertained the identity of the former. What's your personal evaluation of them, Lancer?"</s> <|message|>Honda Ami Honda Ami "Well, we can't do it with money, though shinai would probably be available somewhere as this is a pretty big city..." Ami said, thinking about what she knew of the rest of the world. Not much, to be honest, but she thought she'd heard something about kendo being practised outside of Japan? Getting an actual wooden sword would pretty much be a matter of finding appropriate wood and hoping that Musashi wasn't the only swordsman able to whittle himself a sword. It was at this point that the girl finally noticed the shady looking old man standing nearby, only able to ask him who he was and why he was there. Unfortunately, like the entire rest of her conversation with Okita, she hadn't thought to speak in English. --- "Caster" "A name, yes... you can call me Abigail," the witch said after a brief period of thought. She had that little girl on the mind anyway, so what harm could it be to borrow her name? It wasn't like anyone could possibly draw a connection from such an innocuous name to Salem.</s>
<|message|>Kirsi Eirisphere "I don't know why but... this name sounds quite familiar," Kirsi said as Caster gave her a (fake) name to use. "Anyway, let's get going, Aby! Those pancakes aren't going to eat themselves," she added as they made their way out. Not a long time later, they would find themselves in a rather simple-looking restaurant. There weren't many patrons there at this time of the day, just a few locals having breakfast on the way to their jobs, and a pair of obvious-looking foreigners, one of which looked to be some kind of model. "Hey, miss! Can you get us some pancakes and an orange juice?" Kirsi said in a rather eager tone as she waved a hand, calling the waitress. Even a tall, silver-haired beauty that probably was some kind top model trying to have breakfast in disguise, wasn't enough to distract Kirsi of the objective of her trip out of the bone zone. Daze Lancer "I haven't mentioned it to you already, have I?" Lancer said after being asked about her opinions on the other Servants they met the night before. "Rider is Hannibal, otherwise known as the King of Strategists, of the great generals of the twilight of the Age of the Gods. I'm... disappointed that such a brilliant hero would choose to negate his own legacy for a better chance to obtain the Holy Grail," she continued in a sad voice, revealing both her torn feelings about Rider and disinterest in the prize for which they fought. "As for Saber, I can feel that she's a brave warrior but since I have never heard about her, I assume she's a Heroic Spirit of the Age of Man. I have no doubt that she's a Japanese warrior, but I could not watch her for long enough to understand the root of her technique. Maybe, if I get the chance of crossing blades of her I can get more information," Lancer made a short pause as the woman handed them the menu in a rather non-subservient manner for someone in her position. Fighting back the urge to make the woman know her place, she continued, "However, I'm not sure of it yet but... she seemed to be having some difficult to breathe during a few points of her duel with Rider. Again, if I get to fight her, I can be sure of that." And, after taking a good look at the menu, she said, "Bacon, a piece of toast, and beer should be enough." "Now that I'm here, I might as well see how the pork and alcohol of this era are in comparison to what I know."</s>
<|description|>Beatrix Brown 7 May 1908 Appearance Average height, sand brown hair kept up in a professional looking bun when in school/working, left down to let her natural wave free. Hazel eyes often behind reading glasses and dark circles from being up way too late. Occasionally looks a little haggard, her fair skin making the dark circles a little more obvious. A few dark freckles on her face and arms stand out starkly. Personality Kind, giving, passionate, and a little absent minded. Bea is a nice person to work with, talk with (as long as you don't mind random, winding tangents on things you might not actually want to know about), and generally be around. She's dedicated to learning and her work, doesn't give up easily and will keep going sometimes even past when it's obvious she should give up. History William Axford 9 September 1893 Appearance Tall, broad shouldered, and generally built like a working man. Strawberry blond hair kept just outside of military standards, light blue eyes set in a handsome face. Few scars here and there, along with a few tattoos. One of his daughters name above his heart, a phoenix across his shoulder on his back, and a naked valkyrie one his right inner forearm. Personality Will is a bit of a bastard sometimes, and for the most part doesn't really like to spend lots of time in large groups of people. He's fine with a few people for long times but public spaces start to bother him if he's in them too long. He's rather caring to people he's close to, overly protective almost of them. He treats women amazingly well despite still being a bit of a sleaze sometimes when he talks to them. History Born the eldest of far too many, childhood was rough and made him tough. He left home as soon as he could and didn't look back really. A few years before the war broke out, at seventeen he became a father. But that only encouraged him to enlist and ship out. He served on the front lines for a few yearsbefore moving on to airship service where he found his stride, quickly rising up the ranks. A year before the cease fire was called, he injured fairly badly in battle and he was still in recovery when the fighting stopped. When he was up again he'd been discharged and he took the offer from one of his former officers as captain of one of his civilian vessels. He has since captained the Valkyrie ever since. Rebeca Elizabeth Axford 25 April 1910 Appearance Medium height, slim build with a lovely set of curves. Long, mid back length bright red hair hair and startling blue eyes. She's almost always with a bright smile on her face, and a kind look on her face. Even if she had shorter hair there'd be no denying that she was a woman, everything about her screamed it, but in a soft way, especially considering her age. Delicate and feminine, but there's enough spunk in her look that one would believe she was able to go running and swimming with the boys just as well as them. Personality Kind, caring, compassionate, loud, exuberant, and loving. There is something about Rebeca that makes it hard to not be happy when you're around her. She gets under your skin quickly, making her seem like she's always been your friend. The girl is all smiles and light laughter. There are very few who would not count her friend, or friendly, even amongst hardened people she is a source of light. History The only child of a pair of high school sweet hearts who never wed, Rebeca was raised just on the cusp of middle class. Her mother did well enough to never have her wanting, but the extra little things of life did slip them by as well. But she was happy, and bright and didn't care about those things. Her mother died when she just a little over thirteen, leaving her to live with her grandparents just a few towns over from Saint Louis. She was happy and content with her life, even if she didn't see her father as much as she would have liked to have. At sixteen, her grandmother who was already I'll passed, her grandfather a few months later. She stayed in the house for a while before her uncle kicked her out because he didn't approve of her lifestyle, and had never liked that she had been born out of wedlock and remains so. So she sent a letter to her father and he gladly took her with him when he next came into town.</s> <|message|>Beatrix Brown Bea stuck her tongue out at him childishly though she laughed still and settled herself down at the table. She let Roger and Rebeca talk and just enjoyed the tea. As she watched them though, she had to push back the little thoughts of what had happened at breakfast, thinking about whether Rebeca and him looked like they would get along well together. But then again, she reassured herself for some reason, it just seemed that Rebeca was the type to get along with pretty much anyone. Just looking at her smile would make anyone want to smile back. It was infectious. Rebeca shrugged a little and settled herself down as well in one of the other chairs. "It's been alright," she sighed. "Took a little jaunt back home for some time, but only a few days really. Things have been...tense other places. Being American is helpful, but at the same time, it's not uncommon to be snubbed for that too." 《》《》 Will sighed heavily as he looked over the state of the room. He was normally such a good judge of people, he didn't normally make mistakes like this. But his resume looked so nice that he had let the slight nagging he'd felt at the man's presence slide by. And now he was paying for it. At least, he consoled himself, it had been Roger and not some other paying customer. Roger would understand as he was sure that the girl with him would. He took off his jacket and started to roll up his sleeves as Estella figured out what it was that she wanted him to do. It took him a moment to get his brain back into the swing of things, but not too long and he was soon enough picking at things that he knew how to fix himself without her telling him to do so. He was glad she was there, as she was smaller than him and could get her hands into places that his big hands wouldn't fit. When she seemed done, or done enough, he was sat on the work bench, his own face and hands smudged with grease and dirt, his pants having two dark spots on them from where he'd tried wiping his hands off. "Good," he chuckled, smiling at her. "We can stay in Edinburgh a few days and get things patched up then. As long as she'll make it to Scotland, we'll be fine." He stood up, grabbing a relatively clean rag from next to him and handing it to her. "You're Jewish, yeah?" he asked, his tone clear that he was just curious and didn't at all mind that she was, or that she was probably from some country that wasn't playing as nicely with the rest of the world.</s> <|message|>Protagonists Roger nodded. People could be very prejudice. Though, Rebeca's status as an America probably worked for her benefit most of the time. She and Will could go to a lot of regions that Roger would be suspiciously watched. The tensions in Europe were on the rise. And a young man from Britain traveling in some of the other nations might be considered a spy. Still, Americans were a bit snobbed at times. Not everyone liked them. Though, it was hard to see someone who didn't like Rebeca. She was a sweet woman, kind, and ready with a smile. Her attitude made her very likable. Not that he liked her in any way other than an acquaintance. She was very well endowed and attractive, yes but not his type. Besides, he wasn't looking for love. Not at the moment. He wanted to get a stable job before he found someone. Not to mention, he was going to help Bea out. Until she was settled and found someone, he would be keeping an eye on her. Not only had he promised but she was his friend. He glanced toward the door. "I'm going to see if they need any help." He grinned. "It was great chatting but I'm getting an itch to do something." He laughed and stood. "Rebeca, thank you very much for the tea. Bea, I'll be back." ~ ~ ~ "She'll make it to Scotland." Estella was confident of that. She put a hand on the engine, leaning against it. "She's a tough ship. It will take more than a little crash to keep her down." She accepted the rag with a thankful smile. Brushing it against her face, she nearly froze at the question. It was thrown out, casual and seemingly without judgement but she had been on more than one receiving end of that question where the response flipped from kind to immediate hatred. There was a lot of Semitism, especially in some of the nations. She lowered the rag and brushed her hair back. Her expression slightly bit guarded, she nodded. "Yes." The Star of David hanging under her shirt become predominant in her mind as she met his gaze. She didn't act defensive or even snap - just cautious. "Will that be an issue?" She inquired. Though she didn't seem it, she studied him carefully. Her eyes picking up any subtle hints, any slight body language indicating it was. Oh he might say no but in reality mean yes. She mentally sighed as she realized that it was her Yiddish words that undoubtedly gave her away. She really needed to watch herself when working.</s> <|message|>Beatrix Brown Rebeca smiled and waved him off. "Have fun," she chuckled. "Us girls will be just fine here on our own." Bea likewise waved him off with a smile. "We can find plenty of things to entertain ourselves." 《》《》 Will noticed the tension in her at his question. He hadn't meant to freak her out any. "Only if you're strictly kosher," he said with a shrug that was so very casual. "And that's only gonna be a problem for you." He chuckled softly, leaning back against the workbench, digging into the pocket of his jacket for his cigarettes. "But otherwise, I don't care what you are or who to pray to. My life choices aren't always socially acceptable either, so I ain't got any room to judge anyone." He gave up his search and pushed himself upright again. "Well, I guess I'd care if you were trying to kill me or something, but otherwise, don't care. You smoke?"</s> <|message|>Protagonists His response was not what Estella was anticipating. She rarely got such ... positive response from people. One would think she was responsible for the plague, her people behind every trouble in Europe for the past several hundred years by the way most people reacted to her ancestry. But this... he didn't even seem to mind. Sure, not everyone she met immediately was prejudice. Refus wasn't. But it still surprised her whenever someone wasn't. "No, I don't but thank you," she said in reply to his offer for a smoke. She might not be home but too many things had been drilled in her that was nearly second nature to her. And that included not smoking. And eating Kosher of course. Though, he was right. It was her issue to worry about and she was fine with that. She had a fairly decent model that helped. She wasn't ultra-orthodox. Every part of her food didn't have to be prayed over by a rabbi (which was near impossible to find in certain locations) - but at the same time she did follow her people's dietary laws. So in most instances, most people didn't even realize by her eating habits. Estella finished wiping her hands and face as she watched Will light up his cigarette. He was such a strange individual. So different from her own father. Footsteps in the hall caused her head to turn. "Hey, just wanted to see if you all needed any help." Roger stepped up to the doorway. He winced slightly at all the machinery. Wow. That was a lot more than he expected. He hadn't realized that the engine was so...complex. "No, we're good to go for the moment." Estella replied automatically. She flushed slightly as she realized it probably was directed to the captain, not her. She sometimes had that habit of zoning and just taking charge - at least in something like this. Apparently, she was still in that mindset. She ducked her head to the captain, nonverbally indicating her apology for overstepping. She then turned slightly away to gather up some of the tools.</s>
<|message|>Beatrix Brown Will shrugged at her refusal, pocketing the smokes before lighting his own. He leaned back against the work bench as Roger arrived in the room. He greeted him with a little wave of his free hand and didn't even blink when Estella answered before him. He might be the captain and used to being in charge, but right that moment he was in a more submissive role. She knew better than him and he was okay working under someone more experienced than himself. He chuckled at her hasty submission, smiling at her reassuringly. "Well the lady says we're good. Then I guess we are." He looked to Estella again and said, "if you want, talk to Rebeca and she'll make sure that she knows about your preferences. I'm sure she'll make sure there's something for you if she's making something that you can't have."</s>
<|description|>Leonard Siegfriedt Appearance: (Ignore the gun, his pansy ass probably couldn't even lift it) Height/Weight: 5'2, 112 lbs. Age: 19 Personality: While Leonard may seem like a rather grim person, that's just a misconception most people would get from his clothing. He's actually rather shy, and tries to hide as much of himself from others as he can, hence the hood and the faceguard. He's actually a lot nicer than you'd take him for, difficult to anger and easy to please. As a doctor, he believes it to be his duty to help the unwell, and can't stand to see people suffer when he can do something to help. Even though he has Hypochondriasis. Home Island: North Blue, Principality of Eurijk History: To understand why Leonard is the way he is, it's more important to know who his parents were, or rather, parent. A woman by the name of Charlotte Siegfriedt, infamously known as the Plague Woman. A person who consumed a rather odd Devil-Fruit by the name of the Toru-Toru no Mi, the Thieving fruit. Despite the powerful nature of the fruit, Charlotte solely used the innately malicious power of the fruit to, rather than steal things such as other's organs or lives, instead stole from them their ailments, their weariment, their sickness, and their afflictions. Truly a saint, Charlotte traveled the world, willing to help whoever she could save by using her own body as the host for innumerable viruses. Doing so was no easy task for her, however. The pain was unbearable at times, with several fevers racking her body every week, sometimes hitting at the same time. Were it not for her strong conviction to help others, she likely would have died in her sleep countless times. Naturally, carrying that many ailments would shorten one's lifespan dramatically, and as such, she was fated to die by the age of 30, if not sooner. Doing what she could with her remaining time, she travelled the North Blue, where she was already infamous for having eliminated the lethal Muave Pox that spread through it years before; infamous for being the only known carrier of it. As such, she was shunned and nearly stoned to death several times, resulting in the loss of one of her eyes. From there, Leonard isn't sure of how he came to be. He isn't sure who his father is, or how an infant was able to be born without getting deathly ill from a woman like his mother. But what he did know was that his mother was dying every moment he was with her. It was a terrifying experience for the boy, knowing that his mother would die soon. But he never expected the day she would leave their make-shift home in the middle of the swamp-land region of Eurijk. Without a word of goodbye besides a letter telling Leonard to live honestly, his mother vanished. Sailing off to sea, she perished in the middle of the sea somewhere, her body drifting to the bottom of the sea with her host of plagues. Terribly saddened and alone, Leonard soon declined into depression, cursing the world that there was never anyone who could cure his mother of her illnesses. Now alone in the world, Leonard studied tirelessly to perfect medicines of his own concoction, using himself and various animals around the area to test his brews. One of those concoctions also happened to nearly blow his entire home to pieces, resulting in the left side of his face to be burned quite severely. Years later, without a penny to his name, he set off into the world to cure the incurable, more than aware of his dream being absolutely ridiculous. But then...a world free of sickness never was his own dream. It was his mother's. Fighting Style: Do No Harm Despite his Hippocratic Oath, Leonard understands perfectly well that in this violent world, conflict is inevitable. While not a proficient hand-to-hand fighter, he has the knowledge required to dislocate someone's bones if given enough of an opening, as well as having amazingly precise and steady hands. Combined with his accurate vision, he is able to throw scalpels like throwing knives with a great deal of precision. Crew Position: Doctor Bounty: 0 Others: Wears his faceguard more to hide his face than to keep from catching something, despite his frightfully strong immune system. While he does have the potential to have rather strong Observation Haki, he is currently unaware of Haki's existence, and has no idea how to use it. Character Theme</s> <|message|>Ryan Chideta Ryan turned to Nikko and shrugged. "Sure, I'll join. I don't really have anything better to do right now and you guys seem pretty cool. I'm Ryan, it's nice to meet- and you're taking the cannonball, that's cool I guess." Ryan let her take the cannonball and whistled as she threw it at the captain and his men. He walked towards her and the ship quickly and smiled. "Nice throw. What's your name again?" He asked the dust left in her trail as she rushed towards the ship. He blinked twice and rushed after her. "Dont leave me! I don't like the big stupid Marines!" Ryan yelled as he ran after her.</s> <|message|>Tristan S. Jasper Ignore this, muse is kinda meh right now and I made a crappy ppst</s> <|message|>Nabil "The Calm" Valley --- Nabil lets out a small groan at Marxo's comment, his fist firm on his side as he lowered his head and shook it. "Can't say you're wrong about that one." he muttered, glancing off towards the ruined building. "Trying to get your bounty up?" he asked with a faint smile. The collateral damage was sure to add something to his already impressive price. He heard the Marine behind him mumbling, impressed by his devil fruit abilities but he showed no attention to him. It was always more unnerving—atleast it seemed so to him—when he ignored his opponents. He rubbed his neck halfheartedly as he conversed with his partner casually. "You beat the Captain that quick huh? Perhaps I'm losing my edge. Maybe we should join that knife-ear's crew at all." Marxo would probably pick up on his sarcasm, not many could. That was a testament to their friendship. With his eyes staid on the Marine, he had noticed the nimble footwork and narrowed his eyes on them. Not even Marxo's opponent had been that quick; he had noticed that with his first strike. That cannonball bastard would have been beaten easily if not for the man in front of him. The man in front of him was stronger than he had first thought. The hand he had tucked in his pocket came out as he followed the fishing line passing over Marxo and himself. The hook was strong enough to lift a thick slab of earth and yank it towards him. Nabil thought about blasting it away with his abilities but opted for simply moving out the way with a lunge. Rolling into a crouch, Nabil found the Marine again and shot his needles off towards him. As they narrowed in on the aged man, he clenched his fist and melded them into a large lance. His hand would move, follow the Marine, and the lance would do the same with a deadly accuracy. "Sorry … but it seems my teammate is getting impatient. I'll end this now."</s> <|message|>Tristan S. Jasper Tristan was watching the woman he was fighting closely, not noticing the man standing next to him, to see how she'd react to his countermove. He sees the man charge forward and attack her gritting his teeth and mumbling to himself " Dammit this is gonna make things more difficult... " He continues analyzing the situation watching her movements and now watching the man's movements. Tristan noticed her starting to run towards them at a slower speed and raised his guard in suspicion. Once she launched at them in a slower speed and brought her legs down on the two he leaned to the side and pushed against the bottom of her leg moving it a bit then grabbing it. As his foot slid from the movement, using the motion to provide leverage to launch her over the two, he responded to her. " I said I'm no pirate...and I can handle you just fine on my own, I wouldn't want to be unfair against you! " He looks at the man and motions his head trying to signal him to run towards the pier and help out with the fighting there. Tristan retool his stance from before with his legs closed tightly and one arm behind him and one in front of him. He then quickly switches to a more a relaxed stance standing facing her sideways with one leg a little further out then the other and his arms relaxed " Shall we dance then m'lady? "</s> <|message|>Brenda Wirrit Brenda watches in awe as Nikko, who was out cold a few moments ago, hurls that heavy cannonball effortlessly. And to offer her a spot in the crew? "YES!" Brenda completely fails to hide her excitement, but continues at a more reasonable volume "I won't let you down, Captain! Brenda Wirrit! That's me." Then Brenda sprints after Nikko, stumbling a little in her excitement and bumping gently into Nikko's back when the captain stops again.</s> <|message|>Marxo St. Laurant @Renny M a r x o Marxo noticed as the fishing line tied to the end of an overheated weapon. It seemed he was about to use it to fling something at Nabil. Just as he thought it a piece of gravel came soaring towards Nabil , the line and hook were both connected to it. He noticed Nabil move out of the way but decided to show off a little as he destroyed the rock with a forceful punch. " Flinging dirt are we now Sergeant. Isn't that a little below you." , he laughed at Nabil's earlier remark as he coaxed the marine. " This isn't a 2 on 1 and unless you want it to turn into I suggest you equip your glasses and watch where you're throwing.</s>
<|message|>Leonard Siegfriedt "You're not allowed to die" Shallow breathing could be heard behind Leonard's mask. Even if he was a doctor, and a damn good one in terms of skill, he still lacked a definitive factor to being able to handle something like this. Experience. A veteran surgeon wouldn't bat an eye at seeing a body mutilated, and he most certainly was not a veteran. As he neared finishing treating the knee, nausea, unease, and lack of real confidence started taking their toll. Before long, he looked like he hadn't eaten in a month, and his hands were quaking as he started stitching the wound shut. The bleeding was stopped, the bullet was gone, and the shards of knee had been moved or put back into place if he believed they would heal back together well enough. Standing, his legs quaked as he gathered his things, several syringes and scalpels rolling out as he fumbled, struggling to cover himself with his coat. He hoped he'd managed to save the man's leg, at the very least. Feeling like he was going to hurl, he was about to clean the blood off his gloves before Nikko came over and...praised him. She actually praised him for doing something so stupid and reckless as saving someone who was prepared to shoot him. A slight tinge of red, hidden by his black-iron mask, emerged on his cheeks as he smiled. "T-Thank you...I-i-it wasn't easy, b-b-but I think he'll b-b-be okay." he explained, legs still quaking and most of the stuttering coming from his teeth chattering. He was nervous as nervous could be. Then she picked him up and threw him over her back. Confused as all get-out, he flailed a bit as she ran, realizing that she was still fully intent on having him in her crew. Resigning himself, he just let her carry him. He'd had enough for one day at that point.</s>
<|description|>Stella (Doesn't seem to want to share name previous to "drafting") Age: 18 Physical Description: Important items: -Combat Knives: An old classic of war. They can be used as conventional knives, but Stella usually sheathes them in Hard Light to increase their cutting power. They're the only items she managed to hold on to down to the bitter end. Short Bio: Stella is fairly silent about her past before being drafted. She was said to have had fairly strong promise as an athlete, even at an early age. In particular, she enjoyed gymnastics. Maybe due to her potential, she was abducted and drafted into the child soldier program. Without much of a choice in the matter she was thrust into service as a fighter - no, a killer. She hated it. She hated being forced to fight. She hated being essentially held hostage. She wished for a chance, a turned back or an unlocked door; but no opportunity came. They kept a close eye on her because of her abilities. She could have done something, perhaps. But she would have died for certain. In the waning hours of the war, Stella was ordered to fight in the pivotal Battle of Proxima. As the tides turned against the Ascendancy, Stella found her chance. Stationed in an outpost threatened to be overrun, she took her chance and ran as the confusion of the battle peaked. Perhaps it was fate, or bad luck. Her desertion was noticed by the unit commander, and a kill order was put out on her. With the outpost falling to the enemy, and her captors turning their weapons against her, she was nearly killed. Due to luck, or maybe the amount of fight she had put up, but Stella had survived long enough for the Rau've to descend onto the wreckage of the outpost. She was recovered, but her body had sustained so much damage that it was unlikely she would live without immediate action. Stella had considered herself dead. She didn't have time to come to terms with the idea, but she had accepted that it was coming. But she awoke, somehow. Her body felt cold, and she couldn't feel her own heartbeat in her chest. She had been asleep for a long time. Even after waking, it took her a week to be able to move all her limbs. Her body could not have been saved, she was told. But her mind was still intact. The part that could be saved was housed in the shell of a humanoid robot. An artificial heart pumped synthetic blood to keep her human brain intact. Left to come to terms with her sudden change, she could only come up with one plan of action. She knew the party responsible for all of her misfortune. The ones who had stolen her life, and forced her into despair, and then shot her in the back when she turned to run from a fight she couldn't win. She joined the rebels the moment she was able to after waking. Spell List: 6 Spells overall. Bend Light (World): Stella can alter the direction of light. This is mainly used to bend light around her, making her invisible to sight. This of course doesn't affect things like sound or smell. Electricity Manipulation (World): While before her... Loss of a body she mainly used this to enhance her weaponry, she has found a new application of her power. She can use this to boost her outputs beyond normal levels, increasing her strength and dexterity (potentially to Exceptional levels?) for a period of time. Metal Call (World): Stella has the ability to induce magnetism on metal objects (even if they aren't normally magnetic). She uses this often to return her knives to her hands, but with her new body she has found considerable utility in being made of more metal than normal. Hard Light (High): Stella can make objects of pure light. These objects are hard but translucent, and can be seen through similarily to glass. Most commonly this is used to create hardlight knives, which perpetually maintain a sharp edge and can cut through most materials such as body armor or mundane metals. She can also create a 5x5 surface at maximum, to be used as a shield, temporary cover, or perhaps a stepping stone. She can make them any color but they usually end up blue. They give off a decent amount of light but not so much that they'd be blinding to look at. Exceptional Skill List: Exceptional Bladed Weapons x2: Stella used her prowess at bladed melee weapons well before she lost her original body. Her abilities have not changed.</s> <|message|>Kelan "Hawkeye" Armati --- Incubus had been thorough and brutal. There wasn't much resistance left for him to deal with as he made his way to regroup with the Decoy Squad. Finally, after a slightly longer walk than anticipated, he made it to the battered hangar where the Decoy Team had planned to hit. He noticed two very important things. One, the fighting was already over when he arrived. Two, there were more people there than there should have been. He quickly recognized his fellow crew and the child soldiers... but then also a mountain of a man, some girl, and- BOOM! -and a sudden... meteor impact? No, actually it reminded him more of how he had entered the battlefield. 'What the hell, I just did that less than an hour ago and already I got copycats?' he mused to himself while he scanned the situation. He quickly split the visual feed on his HUD, having the Belial zoom in on the impact site while he focused on the group before him. He also realized he should probably let John and Rachel know it was him since, now that he thought about it, he hadn't shown them his armor before the mission started... "Well howdy boys and girls, I see you made a right mess o' things without me," he greeted them, stomping on over. His accent no doubt made his identity clear, electronically distorted by the armor or not. But who were these newcomers and why hadn't they been shot? And why did the big guy's outfit give him the nastiest deja vu, like he'd just seen something similar- "OH SON OF A-" His cannon immediately locked on. Of course, he was another member of Incubus. He had to be. At that same time, the dust in the distance cleared enough for him to make out a large mech-suit, even taller than the Belial. 'The hell...? Not Incubus, but-' And then the whole ship started blaring alarms. He recalled the lights flickering a bit on his way through. 'That thing got loose didn't it...' He recalled the warning signs he'd seen before he'd run into Snow and the first Incubus merc. "I swear if one more thing happens, I'm gonna lose it!" Kelan growled. "But first order of business... why aren't we shootin' him?!" Kelan pointed at Rook... though the finger on his busted arm didn't extend. "Because I just ran into one o' his friends and suffice it t' say we didn't sit down for coffee and biscuits!" Meanwhile the mech in the distance broadcast some sort of code. In hindsight, he probably should have kept track of Moonstrike's codes. He'd normally have just radio'd Natasha to ask, but somebody had jammed the comms! Likely Incubus, which was just another reason that he really just wanted to shoot this guy!</s> <|message|>Rachel Scott "You talk too much. Our ancestors came up with a nice, simple word for these occasions, it's the word 'no'." she rolled her eyes at Rook's response just in time to see something in the sky. A dot at first, but quickly getting bigger and bigger. Soon the dot had arms, legs, thrusters... As if this couldn't get any worse. It almost sounded like the start of a bad joke. 'Two former child soldiers, a giant, a merc and a battlemech meet outside a prison ship...'. "Ye've gotta be takin' the piss here!" she groaned somewhere between frustrated rage and utter terror, hastily repositioning to put something between herself and the third newcomer. As if it would be of any help against that mountain of metal and death. Somehow she doubted her telekinesis would be enough here. And she thought things have gone out of her league before. At this rate, the entire Ascendancy Fleet would show up in the next five minutes. Fortunately, this one seemed to be a fan of poetry as well. If poetry meant a friendly, then there was now a good chance they might make it out alive even if Tiny decided to do something stupid. On the condition that this bright red beast could fit into the ship's corridors. "Nice entrance." She regained some of her composure and stepped out from her cover. "Did you rehearse that, or is that just the way you roll?" The appearance of yet another armored suit, this one somewhere in between Rook and the Red Baron, made her seriously doubt the life choices she's made over the previous year. It was only when the suit's occupant spoke did she breath a sigh of relief. "Finally!" It had to be the big guy, no one else spoke in an accent even weirder than that of Arcturus. She was relieved when Kelan didn't trust Tiny either, yet at the same time disconcerted when he mentioned a hostile encounter with one of his buddies. True to her word, she's kept her eyes on the newcomers, though mainly Rook, and thus hasn't noticed the damage Belial's suffered. "Careful, big guy. I heard a high-powered railgun shot just before the defecation hit the ventilation. Any helpful sensors on that thing that might tell us whereabouts he might be hiding?"</s> <|message|>Snow Cecil Innocence Lost Eldrid and Natasha N/A, waiting for Bartimaeus and Crowvette John Green and Orky John didn't show it, but things were moving too fast for him as well. Yes, it was bad leadership for him to not be able to absorb new developments quick enough, but things were still moving too fast! So first, he spoke to Dante, "Your code checks out; you're accepted!" Then Kelan's words came to him, and John said, "We're watching each other to see if he's an enemy - He says he's against the Ascendancy as well. Do you mean that he isn't?!" His face met his palm as he turned to Rachel and Narvia and said, "You two and Orky keep watch on him while we get to the bottom of this." Then to Dante, whose type of power armor he recognized, "Newcomer! If your sensors are sophisticated enough, look for snipers and bombard them with artillery!" All the while, he was still in his 'liquid form', a liquid form that was a countermeasure to most forms of attack, but was of limited effectiveness against attacks that can just scatter said liquid form all over the deck. And by that, a punch from Rook can do that. Orky didn't need to wait; he had stepped ahead, then turned around to face Rook, sizing him up to see if he was truly the worthy opponent he seemed. Snow Cecil "Either Moonstrike or the mercenaries used a jamming field to cut off communications - that's why I had to go back to my Starfighter in order to report," Snow Cecil said. "As I said, the mercenaries are only presumably in Ascendancy Service; I suspect they belong to someone trying to keep their dirty laundry secret, but it's more plausible that someone's just trying to steal the glory." A pause, "Also, from what I gathered from the trajectory of the mercenaries - who wear the armor of the Incubus group - as well as Moonstrike, they are heading for the chamber of an AI called Realist, a high-priority prisoner with information relating to the Ascendancy." An idea then came to him, "It seems that their prime priority is Realist itself; not to be overconfident in my skills, but I can calculate the exact position in the AI's chamber where Monarch, their leader, is confronting Realist. You might be able to drop an 'Anvil' on his head, then." Snow smiled at that; this idea isn't likely to succeed, but it will inconvinience Incubus. And on the off-chance it did succeed, it would save Realist. Granted, gaining access to Realist afterwards would still be a pain, but it was all worth it. @Starlance@Bartimaeus@Stern Algorithm@Crowvette@KillamriX88@The Jest@CriticalHit@Araby264@Landaus Five-One@AtomicNut@Senhara</s>
<|message|>Stella (Doesn't seem to want to share name previous to "drafting") Stella grit her teeth. Now it was bringing up Proxima. 'Bastard.' She figured if she thought it hard enough, maybe it might prod into the cloaked figure's mind just as it had done to her. She wasn't a fan of having her knives stolen. At the same time, maybe Stella's overall anger that she had kept down was boiling back up now that she had a clear threat to work towards. Stella didn't have much time to work over the situation, so she went with something she knew would work. Magnetizing the floor the knives were passing over, she made sure that if there were any metallic objects passing above it, their trajectory would be deflected to the ground. Amongst the illusion copies, her true knife pulled downward and clattered against the hallway. Reaching out her arm, she called the knife back to her with magnetic force quickly. She didn't want to leave her knife out in the open, even if she had one to spare. As it touched her hand it turned invisible with her, seemingly disappearing entirely. Stella was ready for another attack when the wind burst from the runes. She was already magnetically attached to the wall, but in order to stay on without being thrown she had to increase her grip. Almost clawing into the wall, she managed to stay on. At the same time, she couldn't advance forward to pursue the cloaked figure. "It's getting away!" She shouted, though she doubted that anyone could hear her through the wind. Partially due to a natural human instinct, and partially due to her strong magnetization, Stella ducked her head down to keep the wind off of her face. In that moment, she could have sworn she saw something strange amongst the streaking wind. A crystal, and it was using some sort of magic as well... 'Yeah right.' Her eyes were giving no errors, so it must have been her imagination. She stayed put, riding out the wind until it was all done. Stella knew when she would bring her head back up, she wouldn't see anything like that at all.</s>
<|description|>Acacia 'Ace' Malikova [Акация Маликова] Age: 19 Gender: Female Species: Werewolf Sexual preference: Bi-Sexual Accent: Russian Familiar/s: Victoria Nikitina (Half-Sister), Viktor Nikitin (Nephew) Companion: Truth --- Ace stands at about 5'5 with pale almost translucent skin. Her slender, yet defined figure is stained in a few places by scattered tattoos. Her hair of fiery untamed auburn hangs just below her shoulders while be contrasted by striking, unnatural eyes that stand out brightly. Her appearance barely suits her nature as she looks more bubbly and outgoing than she really is. --- In wolf form Acacia's fur almost equals the vivid tones of her natural hair color and grows to about a medium length, her hues are the same as her human form. Larger than an ordinary wolf she may stand out if spotted, though usually blends with the wolves who run wild in the landscape. --- [Human Form-Wolf Form] Strengths: Observant Keen Eyesight Fast / Agile Strong Good Swimmer [Both] Decent Shifter [Both] Weaknesses: Almost Useless with Weapons / Fighting Easily Spotted / Hard to Hide Easily Startled [Both] Distant and Avoidant [Both] Uncontrolled Shifts When Fearful or Over Excited [Both] --- Personality: Ace almost lives to be a loner, her preference for singularity and being almost useless in any battle be it barehanded or with weaponry she prefers to use her agility, speed and keen eye sight to prevent too close a proximity of any thought threat. She has a high flight instinct and will generally avoid any confrontational situations. She is seen to be easily startled and will even sink herself in water to avoid anything chasing her. Her suitability to companionship is low, though she is a compassionate and gentle creature, almost too much so to be where she was. --- History: Acacia's history is mostly unknown except that she reigns from Russia and somehow landed herself in a secluded cabin away from any large population. Her accent isn't as strong as many would expect, but she will occasionally speak in her native tongue when something goes wrong or she can't help herself.. She spends her days off alone with her companion, 'Truth', wandering the vast space of her home territory. She wasn't exactly suited to pack life and knew it, that is mostly how she landed herself in the middle of no where in a cabin with just herself and her canine friend. She now lives quite peacefully and visits a small town nearby when supplies are needed. The locals only know what whispers have brought to their ears, gossip always spreads when she shows up especially when Truth tags along, but that's never bothered her as she avoids making connections with anyone there. --- Other: Drives a Toyota Hilux, lives in a secluded Cabin. --- Truth Age: 3 Years Gender: Female Species: Grey Wolf Personality: Truth runs on a fine line labeling her as 'unpredictable' and 'dangerous', she's friendly and cuddly when it comes to Acacia, though aggressive and uncertain when it comes to strangers. She usually remains close to Ace's cabin and is quick to alert when something approaches. History: Found at the age of 4 months old, and raised by the werewolf 'Acacia', Truth knows little of pack life outside of the odd duo. She's always known the shifting woman and has grown to enjoy their time running through the forests, hunting game and slumbering lazy days away.</s> <|message|>Acacia 'Ace' Malikova Acacia 'Ace' Malikova As she finished cleaning up the ruined rags and bowl she'd glance over towards Ryan, ears focused on him as she listened to each word he spoke, thanking her for helping him out and then mentioning he'd do anything to make up for it all. Shaking her head she'd only smile further, "You don't owe me anything, I wasn't just going to let you continue bleeding," she'd offer softly, the Russian accent still clinging to her every word. As he went on saying he owed her three favors she'd prepare to move towards him while about to talk and feeling that sharp reminder of pain through her ankle decided to just lean upon the bench by the fridge instead, as he moved on to mentioning her injury she'd nod slightly. "Actually, I may need to clean it up a bit," she'd say moving to sit on the benches surface whilst pulling her injured leg up and then rolling the pant leg up to about mid-calf. The punctures were slowly crusted over with dry blood, though some sections still oozed which had resulted in a small part of her pant cuff getting stained, I honestly don't think I can complain at this point, everything seems to be doomed to be red it'd seem. She wouldn't admit that she was a neat freak, considering the small cabin may have looked abandoned it was still kept in an orderly fashion and stained clothes were something that ticked her off a bit and usually ended up in the bin aftwards.</s> <|message|>Ryan Thompson "Alright then, I'll get another rag and refill the bowl you used," he said as he made his way into the kitchen, doing exactly what he told her. After gathering those two items though, he began looking around Acacia's fridge before pulling out a bottle of vodka. Hollywood action films don't fail me now. With the three items in hand, he sat down next to Acacia and began using the new wet facecloth on her leg, wiping the majority of the blood away. With any sign Acacia showed of pain, Ryan couldn't help but feel a bit heartbroken, but it had to be done. And I haven't even gotten to the worst part yet. Once that was done with, Ryan got the still dry portion of the cloth and dabbed it in the vodka. He handed the bottle off to Acacia before saying, "Drink enough and maybe it'll dull the pain for what comes next. This is going to hurt, a lot." Physically for you, spiritually for me. I hate seeing you in pain and I hate it even more, knowing that I'm the one causing it. But it needs to be done. Don't want you catching tetanus or something. Oh, this is going to suck. He prepared to place the alcohol covered cloth on her leg with very slow movements as he did not look forward to what her reaction would be. Probably lots of screaming.</s> <|message|>Acacia 'Ace' Malikova Acacia 'Ace' Malikova Had remained propped upon the bench, leg resting upon its surface as baby blue sights trailed after every move Ryan made. He filled a bowl, grabbed a new rag and suddenly started rummaging throw her fridge. Oh god, please don't tell me he's gonna grab the... her heart raced a moment as she watched him grab exactly what she was dreading. "I was keeping that for special occasions," she'd throw out in protest towards Ryan, " This is not a special occasion," she'd continue on and quickly emphasizing the 'not' to a heavy degree. Her voice audibly shaky at the idea of the liquor being used upon the open wound upon her ankle. As she continued listening and was offered the bottle part of her couldn't keep it in, "Something like this never ends well," she'd say out loud rather than saying it in her head. Slender fingers grasping the bottle neck as it was offered her way, without even questioning the idea nor the fact she was probably underage she'd press the chilled rim to her lips and her head cocked back as far as it could. Shed drink a hefty mouthful or maybe two and then gripped the bottle tightly. Her second hand visibly grasping the benches edge as she pressed herself against the wall and nodding at the stranger and speaking with a firm tone, "Just get it over with quickly!" She was allowing a stranger to apply some form of medical help to her and her mind wandered, Why on earth am I doing this, I don't even know him.</s> <|message|>Ryan Thompson "Sorry," Ryan whispered before moving his hand forward, the vodka-soaked cloth now touching the wound on Acacia's leg. He immediately pulled away as soon as he made contact with her flesh, not wanting to cause more pain than necessary. He was nowhere near done though, it would take several more dabs before that happened. Maybe I should have taken a sip of that stuff as well.</s> <|message|>Acacia 'Ace' Malikova Acacia 'Ace' Malikova Acacia would barely notice the hushed tones of Ryan as he apologized for what was about to happen, within a few short moments she'd look up at the roof, hands clenching whatever they held onto tightly as she make an audibly unpleasant groan while clenching her teeth together. The burn of the alcohol sinking into the open wound made her eyes water slowly as she glanced down at Ryan when he pulled away quicker than she'd expected, "You better get this over with quickly, I am not patient with pain," she'd say towards him. Bloody hell this needs to be over with, I cannot control anything with this kind of pain, she'd think to herself, the wolf within overly sensitive to emotional changes or injury/pain and quickly causing shifts if she's unable to control it. Still holding the bottle within her hand she'd draw its rim to her lips once more and take a swig before placing it down with her palm and digits still coiled around it. She'd continue watching Ryan as she awaited the continuation of the fiery sensation causing what felt like electric volts in her leg. You can do this Acacia, you're a big girl, it's just a little scratch, she'd cheer herself on in her head, though it wouldn't last long as she leaned back against the wall, This is going to hurt, it's going so slowly, why can't he just get it over with.</s> <|message|>Ryan Thompson Seeing Acacia's reaction to how slowly he had first applied the alcohol, made Ryan realize that taking it slow and steady probably wasn't the best way to do it. Probably better to do it quick. Like ripping off a band-aid. Okay, here we go. His next "dab" on the injury wasn't really much of a dab, it was more of a rub. As quickly as he could, he pressed the vodka-soaked facecloth to Acacia's leg and pressed most of the alcohol into the injury. Afterwards, he quickly grabbed another facecloth that he had grabbed and tried to dry her leg and soak up any left over vodka that hadn't been absorbed into cleaning the wound. "Alright, you should be good now. Just take it easy. If you have any bandages, maybe wrap them around your leg as well," he told her as he got up. After all that, Ryan would be lying if he said he didn't feel like having a drink, even if he hadn't had alcohol before. Holding his hand out to Acacia's, which was still clutching the bottle of vodka, he asked, "Mind if I have some?"</s> <|message|>Acacia 'Ace' Malikova Acacia 'Ace' Malikova As Ryan, without warning, suddenly pressed the cloth to her leg again she'd tense up and without much of her own permission a painful cry mixed groan emerged her partially spread pale lips. The swelling of tears within her eyes visible as she clenched her teeth and looked up at the roof again pressing the crown of her skull against the wall behind her. Holy fuck, this hurts way too much, is it over yet? her mind would run rampant, feeling the rubbing of the cloth into the wound as the open flesh began absorbing the liquid, the skin around it visibly reddened from irritation though, that was to be expected she figured. Suddenly the pressure from the cloth was released, though it wasn't long before a second cloth, this time a dry one, was pressed against and within the wound to absorb the stray vodka that wouldn't sink in. The balls of developed salty water dropped from their positions and slid down the translucent skin of her cheeks leaving light marks as she huffed a heavy breath. When Ryan eventually stopped the torturous act she'd barely shift to look at him as she listened to him speaking, "Don't have any bandages," she'd offer lightly, her voice shaky as her ankle still sent sharp shocks of pain up her limb. "I guess, sure..." she'd say as he'd ask for the drink she was holding, though before passing it over though she'd take a larger swig of its contents before passing it over and leaning against the wall again. Bright baby blue hues staring at the roof as she left her perfectly fine leg dangling off the bench and held her injured one where it had been already, she didn't look like she wanted to move just yet... and she looked like she would probably hurt him if he tried anything else.</s> <|message|>Ryan Thompson "Thank you," Ryan said as he took the bottle into his hand. Been one strange day today, hasn't it? "Well, bottoms up," he said as he lifted the bottle to his mouth. Almost as soon as the clear liquid touched his tongue, he spit out however much of the beverage had gotten in his mouth and almost spilled what was left in the bottle. Ryan then began spitting and sputtering as he could still taste it on his tongue. His whole over-dramatic reaction could be easily seen as very comical. "Y'know, maybe vodka isn't for me. Sorry about the mess," the young man said as he handed the bottle back to Acacia. Since his generous host had gone to take the bench as her chosen furniture to relax on, Ryan decided to move back to the couch and sprawled out across it. Looking over to Acacia, he asked, "So, uh, what do you do for a living?" He didn't really know what else to ask and he didn't feel like sitting in silence.</s>
<|message|>Acacia 'Ace' Malikova Couldn't help but emit a light chuckle in humor alongside a disgusted face at the mess made, as she watched the young red-heads reaction to the liquor he attempted to drink. "It's not for everyone, no," she'd comment lightly as she'd wipe away the slowly drying liquid that had descended her cheeks from the recently ended 'procedure'. Glancing down towards the spilled vodka, both that spat and that straight from the bottle, as Ryan began wandering off, she'd huff, "I do hope you plan on cleaning that up also." Light hues trailed after the mans actions as he headed for the couch and sprawled out upon it, and as he asked the question she'd just shrug, "I don't really do anything. I live out here alone, and I usually find ways to get money for the supplies I need... Though what I buy normally lasts a decent length of time," she'd begin saying, though now her curiosity piqued and she would gradually shuffle to the edge of the counter. Both legs now dangling off its edge as hands propped her form upwards while she leaned forward slightly to see past the fridge, "What about you, what do you do?" she'd ask, the Russian accent clinging to each word as she watched him.</s>
<|description|>Shirabe Tsukuyomi Age: 15 Gender: Female Appearance: Regular, Symphogear World of Origin: Senki Zesshou Symphogear Personality: Shirabe can be calm and quiet, often to the point of seeming to be emotionless. This can also lead to her being overly serious in outright comical situations. She also tendency to just glare at people if she thinks they're being dumb. History: Shirabe is your fairly average schoolgirl. Apart from being a former member of the FIS terror network. And the wielder of a magical relic that can destroy monsters known as Noise when powered by singing. And the former vessel of the soul of an ancient mad scientist which was destroyed when she blocked her not-my-girlfriend-honest's attempt at using a magic scythe to kill herself. So not really all that average at all. Abilities: Shirabe carries and uses the relic Shul Shagana, which when activated with her song manifests in large numbers of buzzsaws. These can come from a number of places, typically the armoured covers over her twintails, but they can also form from more unorthodox places like her skirt. Or a yo-yo. These saws can also be used for rapid transportation, either by forming a monowheel type vehicle, by forming a pair of rotor blades allowing for flight, or by a small pair extending out of her boots to act like rollerblades. Other:</s> <|message|>Shotaro Hidari The City That Never Sleeps - Philip and Shotaro "Thanks. Shotaro took the newspaper and gave the front page a glance over, looking for any sort of alarming headlines that might clue them in. And then the guy spoke up again, commenting on their obviously out of place looks. "Huh? Oh- Uh- Right we're… we're tourists!" Shotaro nodded affirmatively and gave Saber a quick look to make sure she'd roll with. Lying about their situation was a lot easier, and more believable, than explaining their unbelievable predicament. "Me and my friends we're- we're here for some cosplay show." He looked back down to scan the paper and continued, "Most of our stuff got jacked when we got here though, including our money and phones. We got a guy waiting at the police station to file a report, but we still gotta scrape together some cash for a ride back." There. That sounded believable, right? Back with "Jack," Philip looked down at the girl with a quirked eyebrow. "What is there not to understand?" he asked her, "Killing's just wrong. Especially over something as trivial as a newspaper. He tapped his chin in thought, thinking up another question in case the idea of it still didn't get through to her. "Do you have anyone important to you? Like your parents or any friends?"</s> <|message|>Accepted Characters Unknown City, Somewhere in the U.S.- Temporary Respite The death of the last few lickers caused both Chris and the driver to let out a deep sigh and relax, letting the brief moment of peace take them over. The stress of the incident had certainly taken its toll; upon closer inspection, one could see that the men had bags under their eyes and were covered in wounds and scrapes, having likely accumulated over the course of their trip here. "Damn. What a miracle. Who would've thought that we'd get saved by... Uh... Hobbit characters? Man, I don't read this kinda stuff; buy it for my son all the time, but never actually looked at it," the driver said, slouching in his seat as Chris turned to face the armored man who was addressing him, albeit in a rather... Archaic manner. "Er... Ah... Yeah. Guess you really are new here, huh?" he asked rhetorically, scratching the back of his head before turning around to dig into the duffel bag placed next to his weapon. "Bioterrorists have been running amok ever since they managed to get a hold of the G- Wait. I guess... You wouldn't really know about that either. I'm not really good at explaining this stuff, to be honest; my sister could probably do it a bit better than I can, and if not her, then one of the higher ups. You mind coming with us back to base so we can debrief you there instead?" With that statement, Chris pulled out a small earpiece and, after putting it on and pressing the button, began talking into it. "Alpha-1. We've made it out of the city, and we've encountered some survivors. Heading back to rendezvous at base. Over." With that, Chris placed the earpiece back into his bag and turned to Artorias again. "Though... Really can't thank you enough for saving us back there. I'm usually not one to trust strangers, but with the place in as much of a hellhole as it is right now, I'm glad to see any bit of help we can get. Name's Chris. Chris Redfield. My driver here is Aaron Michaels." After his decidedly-awkward introduction, Chris turned to look at the others who had helped the knight out in helping them out, eyeing them curiously as Aaron sat up in his seat and prepared to drive the jeep on ahead. "So, uh... You and your friends wanna go sit inside or something? Though I'm not sure if you and your wolf buddy over there would fit..."</s> <|message|>Kohinata Miku Sir Artorias "We shall follow," Artorias stated, apparently fully confident in his ability to follow the vehicle. It wasn't as if there were many other options for the enormous knight--'standing on the bonnet' would obviously obstruct the view of the people controlling it, he could see that much. Sif, however, could probably squeeze in fine... if put in at the end, onto everyone else's laps.</s> <|message|>Her real name is unknown, but history has bestowed the name "Jack the Ripper" upon her. More often than not, though, she simply goes by "Assassin", her Servant class. The Ripper Shotaro and the knight had somehow managed to obtain a newspaper, which "Jack" found rather odd. Then again, they did ask nicely... How else could the man have reacted? Still, she thought it would've been even easier to just kill him, but... Her train of thought was derailed slightly as she felt something... Fuzzy in the corner of her mind. It took her a moment to realize that this weird feeling had been accompanied by Satori suddenly looking rather unwell, but the thought never occured to her that the two things could be related. She wasn't really paying too much attention to the youkai earlier, after all. Still, she wasn't sure how to react... And was actually somewhat thankful when the more effeminately looking of the two detectives approached her. "We... Uh... We have..." The small girl trembled involuntarily. Not only was it a man talking to her, but... "...Mother... We have Mother... Wherever Mother is... But she is sure to find us and we are sure to find her. No-one else matters aside from Mother."</s> <|message|>Arturia Pendragon, goes by her class name, Saber Saber, King Arthur Herself "... Cosplay...?" The practice of dressing up as characters from a video game, anime, manga, movie, or some other form of media? What did that have to do with anything? For a few moments, Saber was nothing but confused... at least, until she realized what Shotaro was trying to do. Oh, so he believed it would be easier to hide their purpose here, even if this world did not appear to hide its supernatural elements? Perhaps it would be easier then attempting to explain what they were doing... but this didn't seem like a Grail War that demanded secrecy. ... Did it? The blonde girl was uncertain. "... Yes," she said flatly. She was, perhaps, not the best among liars.</s> <|message|>Satori Komeiji Hellsalem's Lot- The Transient Tranquil Park The man looked at the two inquisitively before shaking his head, a frown on his face as he pulled his cellphone out and began to dial... Someone. "Well, if you say so. I mean... That's what I would say if there weren't a few flaws in your argument. You state that most of your belongings were stolen, but parading around in something as unwieldy as that suit of armor in such a scenario seems counter-intuitive," he said, motioning towards Saber before continuing. "Let us go along with your argument that you most of your items were stolen once you arrived, including your money and phones. Why, then, would you send someone off with no way of contacting them in the case of an emergency? Why come to this park this early in the morning, when the logical course of action would be to file the report together? You are fit to gain nothing simply waiting around here. Furthermore, why would someone change into a costume when there are much more pressing things to account for, such as the retrieval of your stolen goods? There are a lot more things that come up as strange, though; for example, your first action was to ask me for a newspaper. When a person's goods are stolen, their first instinct is not usually one to search for news on current events." With that, the man brought the phone to his ear and began to speak to the person on the other side of the line. "Hello? Chain? I understand that you're a bit busy right now, but could y-" Before he could finish speaking, though, a black-haired Japanese woman seemed to pop out of thin air, holding a phone to her ear as well. "Done," she responded, ending the call and placing the phone in her pocket. "What's the problem here?" "Nothing much, really. Could I ask you to go check out if there are any 'cosplay events' happening today? Also, can you check the precincts in the area for any people filing reports on lost items?" "Alright. One moment, please." The woman vanished for an instant, but returned about a half a minute later, shaking her head. "Nothing of the sort. It is a Tuesday, after all; most places would have it on the weekends, I think. There precincts are also empty; the only ones inside are the officers on duty at the moment." "Figured as much," he sighed, shaking his head before turning back to Shotaro and Saber. "It's not good to lie so blatantly, especially in this city. Now, could I ask you for your real reason for coming here? We've got a lot of problems on our hands already, but we'd rather not add one more onto the stack." Meanwhile, Satori had barely managed to stabilize and had just taken a few deep breaths to calm her mind and her heart. Making a mental note to never try that again, the youkai girl turned to glance at the mess that Saber and Shotaro had gotten themselves into. Well, so long as they didn't end up blowing up this place in the process, she wouldn't have any complaints for the moment. Such a peaceful place, even in what seemed to be a hectic city, didn't deserve such a fate.</s> <|message|>Shotaro Hidari You're Not The Liar Dopant - Shotaro You could just see the look of crushing disappointment sink into Shotaro's face as the suit exposed his lie for what it was. A large frown gradually creased across his face and he folded up the newspaper, resting the hand holding it on his hip with the other going up to hold his hat. His expression briefly changed to wide-eyed surprise when the suited lady came in and out… and in again. It was quick resume its wide frown once their thin lie was thoroughly stamped to pieces into the ground, and Shotaro tilted his head down a little, pressing his hat down over his eyes. "Ahhhhhh- fine!" he groaned irritatedly, "I'm a detective in the first place, lying on the spot isn't my forte." He shifted his weight onto one foot and let his hand fall back from his hat, looking at the two straight on. "I tried to avoid explaining ourselves since it sounded so ridiculous, but if you've got a bunch of… other things rolling around here and people popping out of thin air, you'll probably buy it." He raised his free hand back up and gestured at himself and Saber, "Me, her, and a few others back over that way," he gestured back at Philip and the others, "We're from a bunch of different worlds. Only it's all coming down, apparently, and some lady wants us to fix it. There's something going on in this world, we don't know what, and we're supposed to handle it before it gets worse. That ring any bells to the problems you guys are having?" If You Just Focus On The Girly Parts, You Might Forget He's A Man! - Philip "Then consider how you would feel if your mother was killed. Especially over something as trivial as a newspaper." Philip bluntly put it. "The logical response to that might be sadness or anger, but it's nothing you would want to inflict on just random people, would it?" he asked "Jack." If her mother was seriously just that important to her, Philip hoped it would trigger some sense of empathy in the girl.</s> <|message|>Arturia Pendragon, goes by her class name, Saber Saber, King Arthur Herself All Saber could do is watch as the entire lie was torn apart in a matter of moments. Well... it was not as if she liked lying, anyway. Certainly, omitting information was something she was fully capable of, and she could cooperate with the lies of others... but directly lying was, in most cases, something she did not approve of. Blatant dishonest quite simply did not fall in line with her viewpoint, and did not often coexist with honor and chivalry. ... Though... her rule had been founded on a lie... regrets welled up in Saber's mind, but she managed to push them back down. No. She no longer desired to erase such things from her past. She would focus on the here and now. "I apologize," she said, bowing her head as if she had been the one directly perpetrating the lie rather then Shotaro. She had participated, and that was enough. "Shotaro has told the truth. We are here in order to prevent something terrible from happening." It was around this moment that Saber realized she had no introduced herself, neither to her comrades or to the man(and now the woman) they were speaking to. "Allow me to introduce myself," she began, "My class is Saber." The habit of not clarifying her true identity, however, died hard.</s>
<|message|>Shirabe Tsukuyomi Shirabe Tsukuyomi - Red Blade of War The doll's reaction certainly threw Shirabe a little. It was definitely casting doubt in her mind on her assumption that this figure was indeed one of the Autoscorers. Was it trying to goad her though? With a sigh, she stopped focusing on the doll and looked at the truck. "I... I don't think I'm going to fit in there." As she shifted back into a more normal posture, the armour over her twintails swung up and a pair of sawblades shot out, forming a mono-wheel type vehicle around her. In theory this would allow her to keep pace as well as clear the way.</s>
<|description|>Kashiwagi Utaha 'Yahoo~! Everyone's idol just arrived!"' Utaha is actually a pretty tall girl in comparison to most girls, and even guys, standing at 1.90 meters. Her build is actually quite curvy. Her orange hair reaches her back and is almost always kept straight, but she knows how to arrange it in lots of ways, for when she becomes a real idol. Gender: Female Age: 17 Arcana: Sun Personality: Utaha is extremely lively, way too lively for the good of anyone in her vicinity. It is hard to see her stay put, and she likes jumping around as much as possible, even with her big body. She likes singing and dancing a lot too. Without regards of personal space whatsoever or the slightest hint of what the hell is the so-called delicacy she keeps hearing so much about, Utaha can be quite intrusive upon personal matters, even though she always has the best interests of people in mind, even though she can be quite the nuisance too. She always gives it her all to achieve her dream of becoming an idol, and always gives her 200% at everything, and also expecting that others will follow her example. She also does not accept any kind of slacker, and will force them into working, no matter what it takes. An airhead and a klutz by nature, Utaha is someone who trips over nothing, forgets things rather quickly, can't read the mood or take a hint, and her fingers seem to be made out of butter, everything slipping through them most of the times. Unable to ever differentiate left from right, there are few actual things she is good at, such as dancing, and also, quite few things that can upset her, being almost always able to keep her cool no matter the circumstances. Still, there are a lot of things that can upset the ever happy Utaha, such as commenting over her height or telling her that her dream to become an idol is a fool's errand. Equipment/Skills: Weapon: Unsuited for a fighting style that is less than graceful, due to her dancing skills and clumsy nature, Utaha would actually prefer to make use of a spear or lance when the time comes, so she would be able to put it to good use with her big body. Armor: Not much, the usual school uniform and maybe something underneath it, but nothing slowing her legs down. Skills: Dancing, singing. Due to an elective she was practically forced to take during middle school, she also knows Judo, if at least the basics. Her grades aren't that bad either, and she's able to memorize lyrics and whatnot in a matter of seconds. Background: Born to a family of overachievers, Utaha spent most of her life being the black sheep in a family full of people that did not know what it meant to fail, at anything at all, and given how she is, and has always been, Utaha was actually looked down upon a lot. Her brother and sister always thought of her as being worthless and also called her names related to her height and build, hence building to her build complex. Her father barely paid her any attention, and not to say anything about her mother, who knew she was too much of a goody two shoes to actually tell anyone what she was doing behind her family's back. Utaha pretty much just had to put up with it. Her life, well, it could not be called a living hell, she did not want to call it that, since many others had it even worse than her, but it wasn't something pretty. There was a single thing that kept her on the game, and it was the love she had for the idol Kiruri Izumi. Her songs and dances got right to her heart, and even so, it wasn't the songs themselves that made her hopeful. It was the fact that anyone could become that, even her. It was not long until Izumi released a song that actually filled Utaha with the courage she needed. That day, she was able to finally tell her dad about what her mom was doing, not only wringling every penny out of him, but also cheating on him. A divorce ensued, of course, and she ended up living with her father. He was no longer able of treating Utaha as he did, even though he still spent a lot of time in his work, he now calls regularly to check on her. Utaha now feels happy about what she did and now aims to become an idol just like Kiruri Izumi, someone that makes and sings songs that reach people's hearts and fills them with emotions, that's what she wants to do the most. Still, she finds obstacles at every turn. Not one agency has hired her in all the time she has been attending idol auditions because of her height and build not fitting the image they search for in an idol. While it puts her down at times, she still gives it her best always and keeps up a positive outlook at everything. She will not let anyone put her down or ridicule her dream of becoming an idol that will reach everyone's hearts! Persona: Terpsichore, nicknamed Terpsi-chan by Utaha. Appearance: Abilities: Agi, Dia, Tarukaja.</s> <|message|>The Compendium Rui Shinichi16/4/2015 - Thursday - Agriculture Club Room, on the way to Manga Club Room As one of the girls got up, only to fall flat on her face, Rui was really tempted to run over and help her up, hand raised and foot forward, but she was already back up and sitting position... Is... Will she be fine? As Rui took a step inside he realized there was a third person, also a girl. From what he's gathered, they're all in the agricultural club, or seek to be... He had an idea who they were waiting for, but he had to ask anyways... "I'm sorry, I'm not in this club, I just never saw this room being used, I thought it was a class garden...", this place was a green house after all. A fairly homely one though. "My name is Rui Shinichi of class 2-1. Who was it you three were waiting for?", he asked. None of them were a club member, and they were here intending to join it, meaning they did meet someone from this club prior to today. So who was it...?</s> <|message|>Mako Moritomi Mako Moritomi//Warakuma High, Auditorium Thursday, April 16, 2015 ==~== Mako's face was surprisingly stern as he packed his books away, the usual good cheer that was generally so resplendent on him almost completely vanished. It wasn't as though he didn't have cause to be stern, though- for one, his lack of decorum from yesterday was still writhing under his skin like some parasite. He shouldn't have allowed the Yamamoto girl to needle him so. He'd almost rendered all of his hard work for naught, because of one hateful bitch-- Mako closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Now was not the time for name-calling, even in the privacy of his own mind. Especially if he expected to make up for yesterday's slip-up. I am a gentleman. I must present myself as such, no matter the stimulus that tries to get me to act otherwise. He decided that the next time he saw Akari-san, he would apologize profusely for his anger- perhaps throw some comment in about how he'd been having a bad day, or some rot like that. It wasn't too far from the truth. Because if, again, Mako were being honest with himself, there was another thing lurking about that weighed heavily on him. That weighed heavily on everyone, in fact. Another kidnapping. Harvester, I think they said his name was. Like the last victim, he didn't know the boy personally. But it still was a troubling development, regardless. Especially with how close together these two incidents had occurred. Everyone says that we don't know for sure that it's a kidnapping, but what else do you call it? It's not like they're doing it to themselves. Mako sighed, hitching up his backpack and pasting a semblance of good cheer as he left his room, toward the auditorium where the Drama Club was meeting. He supposed that all he could do was try and keep his mind occupied while the police or whomever sussed out the reasoning behind the latest disappearing act. And what better way to do such than by acting? Acting in a play. Acting like there wasn't anything wrong. Acting like he wasn't bothered by what was happening to this town. Acting, it seemed, was something Mako Moritomi excelled at.</s> <|message|>Shirohane, Kotori Kotori Shirohane - Warakuma High School: Agriculture Club | After School At Utaha's comment toward her name, Kotori, rather than reply, just looked down at her hands; a little unsure what to do when someone just went a complimented her. Her suggestion toward playing Shiritori had barely gotten over before the boy had entered the room - and after Kotori's words, Utaha had followed on through; albeit with a brief delay due to her managing to catch her feet on something and land face first on the ground. Cringing at the most likely quite painful sight, Kotori was about to help the tall girl up when she already picked herself up; brushing the accident off as she did. Keiko, who had remained at her place - possibly because there was no need to stand up after two had already done so, perhaps to escape the fate that had befallen Utaha - reaffirmed what had been said before phrasing the open-ended words of Utaha in a more direct question as to the boy's name. The Second Year introduced himself as Rui Shinichi from Class 2-1 before asking who it was that they were all waiting for - a pertinent question, no doubt. With a bow, Kotori returned the introduction "I'm Kotori Shirohane from Class 2-2," before answering the question - though her earlier assumption that he was an Agriculture Club member had turned out to be wrong on account of the Rui's words. "We... I think we were all waiting for Harvester-senpai, but..." Kotori said, briefly glancing to the other two girls seeing as she wasn't sure if that was the case for them before trailing off - given the announcement earlier in the day, there was little doubt as to why.</s> <|message|>The Compendium Rui Shinichi16/4/2015 - Thursday - Agriculture Club Room, on the way to Manga Club Room "Oh... Matthew Harvester right?", he asked, the kid he saw at the hospital the other day, that was Matthew. Didn't these girls get the announcement in homeroom...? He's missing right now... In any case, he wasn't done talking. "I see, well I can tell you he won't be here today... Try... Try next week. I guarantee he'll be here then", what was he saying? He didn't know whether or not Matthew was going to be in the mirror world... But he felt it in his gut, Matthew was going to be there, he didn't have any basis for it, but that's what he felt. "I must get going now, it was nice meeting you girls", he said, bowing slightly before leaving. As he walked the path towards the manga club room, he felt his phone vibrate. A message. He opened it up, and as he thought it was from Kazuki. There was an indication it was sent to Noboru and Kami as well. Come to the warehouse this Sunday. Megumi has found another person is in the mirror world. "Hm... That has to be Matthew...", he muttered to himself. After a minute or so he was finally at the manga club room. He realized he was here because... Well, he didn't feel like Drama today. That was besides the point though, he just wanted to turn off for awhile... He stepped inside, and Akane seemed to have the same idea. "Yo"</s> <|message|>Keiko Kobashigawa (ito) Keiko Kobashigawa - Warakuma Highschool - Agriculture Club - Thursday, April, 16, 2015 - After School The new boy introduced himself as Rui of Class 2-1, the cute boy was the same age as her. Keiko smiled politely and waved him at him. Kotori spoke of how they were waiting for Matthew or another member of the club, the boy response rubbed her the wrong way, next week? Before Keiko could say anything to the boy he left and walked down off. Keiko gave where the boy stood a quizzical look, suddenly her red flags were raised and suddenly she felt even more worried for Matthew safety. Maybe this young man has some connection to the missing teen. She should keep an eye out for Rui, maybe she's over thinking this a little, if this feeling lingers she can ask Auntie where he lives and she can keep tabs on him. Well, she should get going, looks like nobody will be coming, she better say goodbye for now and maybe meet up with them soon. "Whelp, I should be heading home, I don't think any members will be coming today, I see you guys next week, or anytime before if you guys want to meet up later!" Keiko said while getting up and grabbed her bag, and walk through the door, she made sure to do a small wave before she left. She has to make sure she's only over-thinking this whole thing, that guy couldn't be involved, could he?</s>
<|message|>Kashiwagi Utaha Kashiwagi Utaha - Warakuma High After School||April 16||Agriculture Club "Oh, yes, it is nice to meet you, Rui-kun~! I am Utaha, class 3-2~! What'd you expect? You are all my cute underclassmen~!" Utaha said, taking the two girls and pushing them against her chest with joy. "I am so, so, soooo happy to meet cute underclassmen like you~! I'm sure we'll have lots of fun in the Agriculture club~!" Utaha said. Of course, it was a bit of an stretch right now, since it semeed that the Agriculture club had been cancelled for the day. Utaha tried her best to remain cheerful as always, though she was sure everyone else didn't feel all that cheerful about the fact of Matt disappearing. Still, what Rui said. Well, it seemed like hopeful words more than anything. Just trying to be cheerful like her so that other people didn't feel bad, but she followed up with it. "Um~!" She nodded in agreement. "I'm sure Matty will be back soon enough, so we should just wait~" After that, the guy said he was leaving. Utaha simply started waving goodbye at him as he disappeared from the room. "Well..." Utaha let go of the two girls and made her way to the door. It seemed they would get nothing out of standing there, and Utaha thought holding them in there anymore would just be being selfish. "Then, I'm going back to my house girls~! Take care on your way home~! It is dangerous out there lately!" Utaha said with a smile, and then walked away from there. Utaha too felt a bit bad, so she decided to just go back to her house and have some rest. She felt some kind of hole in her stomach, perhaps it was the worry she had over Matt's disappearance?</s>
<|description|>Shukra "No longer, brothers and sisters, will you stay down in this dark, dank pit! No longer will you suffer and starve while those on the surface feast at your expense! No longer will we stay down here, forgotten legends that will always be nothing more than a memory! Rise up, brothers and sisters! Today, the age of man will end, and we shall take back what is ours!" Gender: Male Race: Rakshasa Physical Form: Standing at a proud seven feet even, Shukra is a monster to behold, with flowing black fur the color of ash with stripes that glow like flames. His eyes glow the orange of fire, and his maw is filled with razor sharp teeth like his tiger cousins. Each finger is tipped with a razor sharp claw, and a long tail swishes behind him. Few have survived the attempt of touching it. Adorning his body is a suit of ancestral armor, worn by the honor guard of the ancient Rakshasa emperors, made of an unknown metal and inlaid with gold. Aga, his sword, lays on his hip, made of the same metal as his armor and covered in a runes that glow like embers. Skills/Abilities Voice of the Emperor - A gentle reminder that he is your better. Every word he says will influence the thoughts of the weak willed and unintelligent towards what he wants. Breath of the Dragon - Fire is his ally, and so he has garnered an immunity to its effects, and can manipulate natural fires or create his own through magic. Strength of the Tiger - He is naturally tougher and stronger than most other races, and has, at one point, torn an orc chieftain in half with his bare hands. Speed of the Snake - While he is not the fastest man to live, he can outrun any human with ease, and his reflexes are far superior to most others. Blade of the East - He is a good swordsman, but by no means the best. Personality: Shukra is confident that he, because of his race, if not himself as a person, is superior to all others, especially others. As such, he will rarely give the time of day to others he sees as below him, and those that he has managed to come to terms with as them being his equal, he will at least attempt to be civil with them, in his own special way as an ass. The rare occasion he'll find someone who has proven themself to be his superior, he's found an unnatural and unhealthy obsession with being under their service. Up until the point where he's confident enough to kill them and take their place, but with the current Dungeon Master, he is unsure of his ability to do so. However, he does have a soft spots for his servants, and gets legitimately enraged when he finds out his lackeys have been killed. Wants/Needs: Shukra wants one thing: To restore the glory of the Rakshasa, even if he is the only one left. Land, subjects, and cities to lord over are what he wants, for those that are lesser than him to submit and become become his, one way or another. That, and to become strong enough to deserve the title of King. Backstory: In the jungles to the east, there are stories of the rakshasas, demonic tiger men that lorded over lesser races. They were brought down by great heroes, or sealed away by powerful mages. But, there were some that managed to escape persecution by their servants and peasants. Shukra, once a steward and guard to a more powerful rakshasa. He escaped, and went into a dormant state. However, he was recently awakened by a clan of orcs, deep underground. Shukra is unsure of how he got there, but after slaying the chieftain of the orcs, he took command of their clan and drove them to the surface, forcing them to become strong, smart, cunning. He's lead them close to the surface, where others of their kind and other degenerates forced underground by the humans to hide and cower have gathered. That is where he shall begin his ascent, and return to glory. Other: His sword, Aga, is made of an unknown metal and covered in red runes that glow like embers. Because of the magic in these runes, the sword is impervious to rust, will never dull, and will never dent, and is immune to all but the strongest of magics. He also has a clan of orcs under his command, which is convenient at times. The Vorhaas Clan</s> <|message|>Athinar Gol-Gaia Athinar grinned as the Master expressed pleasure at their performance. He had done well, and Athinar knew it, but to get such recognition from the one he was currently working for, well, it felt good. Almost as good as spilling blood. Before everyone started to argue over the spoils, Athinar grabbed a slave, and picking him up from the scruff of the neck, enough to keep him restrained, and above the reach of the imps that now spilled about him, tossed him over his shoulder. He needed at least one slave. Didn't matter what for. Maybe he'd have him cook for him or something. Anyways, that wasn't important. Turning to Kor, he saluted the Darkwraith with a mock salute. "Well met. And goodbye. I have to take care of some things. Hope to see you in the next raid." Passing the group, he overheard the words "raid" and "village" in the same sentence, but unfortunately heard "scout" and "infiltrate", as well as "plan". Raising his voice above the din of the assorted creatures, he said, "If you need things or people broken, come see me. I'm not much for scouting. Call me when you're up for a frontal assault." Waving, he pushed past a burning zombie, not even minding the singeing that was blackening his slave's face. Finally out of the central entrance, Athinar found himself able to breathe. Roughly setting the terrified village down, allowing him to walk, he rolled his arms around in his sockets. Taking off his helmet, he shook out his long silver hair, allowing it to fall down around his eyes. "So, uhhh, what do you do?" Raising his finger before he had the chance to answer, he said, "Whatever name you had before, it is irrelevant. You now answer to Meat." Athinar then waved his hand, allowing the man to speak, as a pack of imps carried a door deeper into the tunnels. "Well, I-I'm a barber." Seeing Athinar's displeased grimace, he hastily said, "That doesn't mean that I ju-just cut hair, th-though. I can act as a personal servant, and I also can act as a surgeon, in a p-pinch." Athinar, studying Meat's face, broke into a honest smile. The man was actually useful, and he had a strange pull to effective servants. He didn't know why, as just killing them all would be more fun, but a good support staff was important, he supposed. While the Boss was certainly powerful, he couldn't have come as far as he had without a base of power. As they came upon a room, roughly carved out of the stone, a connecting tunnel to the main one, Athinar said, "Meat, if you serve me well, we won't have any problems." This seemed to reassure Meat, a nervous grin appearing on his face. Opening a wooden door that was just recently installed, Athinar looked around his room. It was quite bare, with only a single torch in a hole in the wall, and a simple bed in one corner. "Meat, this is my room. You should be okay, if you do not leave. Ever." Gritting his teeth, he leaned in close. "Except for when I tell you, of course. But if you leave for any reason except for by my order, then we WILL have problems. Do you understand me?" Meat nodded his head frantically. Athinar, satisfied, exited the room, leaving Meat behind, and locking the door behind him. He then headed off to see what the Boss wished of him. While the other champions had a solid idea, he would like to see the Boss's opinions on the matter. The first one he met up with, on the way to the boss, he would greet with a command and a question. "Follow me. So, what is the plan?"</s> <|message|>Emily Kabal, Spirit's Sonnet Emily was standing around, keeping watch over her zombies while still being present, and subtly cleaning up the mess of an Abomination that did not cut it and turned into fleshy slag. But then, Master looked over - causing Emily to grin happily, regardless of the reason he was looking for - and made them all vanish. Emily didn't really understand teleporting and pocket dimensions, but she did understand her darlings, and what they needed. "O...k...But, the Abominations haven't finished, and as dead corpses, the spirit'll burn through them in a few days. So, I am not sure how it works, but you are probably going to have some melted person in your teleporty place tommorow" she warned. It wasn't vindictive at all, she just thought that people should be warned about melted person. She didn't really think there was much, if anything, left to say and she wasn't interested in the physical wares that had been brought back. What she wanted had already been obtained - in part, at least because the bodies could hardly speak and it was crypic when they could enunciate - but the gist was there. And the gist, was not subtle, which might annoy some people she knew. So, it was her need of less-than-subtle that caused her to stay where she was, since she would have to speak to Master after the rest where gone. Things needed doing.</s>
<|message|>Shukra Shukra listened to the plans of many of the other champions in the room, and perked his ears. They had good ideas, but none that he approved of. Mostly because they revolved around laying blame at the feet of the orcs, and therefore his feet, as he would inevitably have to deal with the humans that stormed the mountains and attacked the orcs. It might make it easier for him to conquer them, but would likely end up with him taking more losses than he wanted. He more approved of Umbra's plan, but still, it wasn't something that he greatly approved of. For now, he thought it best to allow the other villages to do as they pleased. The neighbors were few and far away. However, he did chime in, saying, "I suggest that either one of our spirits or ghosts go to one of the villages and assert themselves as the leader, after learning their mannerisms. It would give us an advantage, and possibly allow us to turn an entire village and the miliita to us without too much of an issue. Or one of our more persuasive friends," he motioned to Ekusha lazily, "Could more effectively turn the leader and his local guard to us. Might have some fun doing it, too." Satisfied with his piece said, he quieted down as the stock list came in. As the familiar broken face of the imp he'd crushed earlier appeared, a wicked smile came over Shukra's face. Once the imp's accusatory statement came, however, that smile turned into a snarl, and a flame burst to life on Shukra's head, forming into a mane much like a lion's. A bit of show of his own, though it wasn't much. And he expected Torrens to leap right onto him in a moment, since there was a new source of heat in the room. He stood, so as to not set the chair on fire, forcing a few humans and imps away from him. His steely gaze met the withering look of his Master. He did know fear, and felt it in that moment, but never would he admit it or let it show. No, he merely held his Master's gaze, allowing the mane of fire to grow and travel down his shoulders and back, rising in intensity. Then, he did the unexpected: He cooled off, put out the fire, and knelt down before the Dungeon Keeper. "Forgive me, Master. I did not believe that those I collected would be missed," he explained, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the floor. "I merely wished to restore the men I lost in the raid, thanks to my supposed allies. If you wish, I can have them brought here, though it might take some time, as I had them sent to my own lair." He neglected to add the bit about the foodstuff he'd had his orcs whisk away as well. "If I may, I do have a concern to bring up." He did not wait for an affirmative before he continued. "Some of your minions do not have control of themselves, or respect for their allies. Many of my minions - and, by extent, your minions - were lost in the village because of the creature That Which Consumes Peace, and likely others in our group. It is a concern of mine that they will do even more damage to your forces once we have built a considerable army, and will sow just as much chaos in your ranks just as they would our enemies'." He remained on his knee, waiting for the Master go give some sort of judgement.</s>
<|description|>Eustace Bell Gender: Male Age: 12 Nen type: Transmutation Appearance: Eustace has a short body, being around 4 feet and 10 inches tall. His body is mostly slender and has a lack of visible muscle. He typically has a mild smile on his face and has short, dark, messy hair. The majority of his hair is concealed by the large hardhat he wears. The hardhat itself is orange and thermoplastic, bearing resemblance to what a miner would wear. Over his torso, Eustace wears a plain, white shirt. He wears gray sweatpants and has black, laceless slip on shoes. Under these shoes, he wears red socks, which are usually covered by his pants. His skin is pale and he has amber eyes. Personality: Eustace seems extremely carefree at almost all times. He is usually very cheerful and friendly, to the extent that it actually seems very strange. He is unlikely to get angered by taunts or insults and usually just shrugs them off without a second thought. This attitude also extends to things that most people would find strange. If met with something peculiar, he would be more curious about it than afraid. Eustace also has a very inquisitive mind, always asking questions when something interests him. But he can be very long winded and has a tendency to occasionally ramble from time to time. This most often occurs when he is given the opportunity to talk about the things he enjoys. He has a great interest in finding out more about the world and aspires to become a hunter and explore the world, uncovering its lore in his travels. He is willing to become friends with just about anybody and is generally very forgiving, even to the most vile of people. Eustace is very knowledgeable but usually keeps important information to himself, unless he's asked. He enjoys learning more about other people and is generally very easily amazed by new discoveries. He has almost no shame and will more than likely not hesitate to do things that others might find to be peculiar, such as raid trashcans in search of new things. However, as he's spent more time away from home, he spends more time away from home, this tends to happen less frequently. Despite these things, he has a passion for learning and is always glad to read a book, no matter the subject. As a result, he is very intelligent for his age, even though his demeanor would likely cause people to think otherwise upon first meeting him. Eustace finds fighting to be very enjoyable, especially as a way to blow off steam. His determination is unfaltering and he is an extraordinarily hard worker. His ideal job as a hunter would be an archaeological one. While he enjoys finding out new facts as information hunters do, his true passion lies in finding out about ancient civilizations. He is always on the lookout for new goals to set for himself. This is because of his desire to never be forced to live a life without any meaning. Despite his cheerful attitude, however, he has a bit of difficulty expressing some of his more negative emotions: such as sadness. He has an unhealthy tendency to bottle up such feelings and cover them with an innocuous looking smile. Eustace is also somewhat uncomfortable with certain displays of affection, such as hugging. When he's on the receiving end of one, at least. This is more due to how his relationship with his grandfather worked. While the two obviously loved each other greatly, they were never the best at expressing it in the more conventional ways. The most Eustace has ever gotten is a proud pat on the head. Origin: From the day he was born, Eustace has lived in Meteor City. He was raised by his grandfather, Apollo Bell, who was a retired information hunter that chose to live in the dumpster city for reasons unknown. Eustace had always been curious about his heritage, but thought that asking about it would be pointless given how adamant Apollo was about keeping silent about it. Day in and day out, Eustace would constantly be on the lookout for any interesting stuff he could find in the garbage left behind by the other countries. Eustace was able to find the majority of his clothing and possessions this way. He constantly dug holes and tunnels with his pickaxe to kill time given how dull his home was, other than the occasional friendly fight against a fellow citizen, this was the only form of entertainment he could find. Digging holes and tunneling daily are the main reason why his strength was able to grow so vast. One day, however, Eustace found himself becoming curious about his grandfather's life, questioning him out of genuine curiosity. It was then that Eustace learned about the old man's travels and adventures as an information hunter, including all of the knowledge he was able to accumulate from the profession. From those moments, the bond between Eustace and his grandfather grew ever stronger, as did Eustace's love of learning. However, he had aspirations that differed from his grandfather's. He wanted to become an archaeological hunter, similar to the courageous ones Apollo described in his stories. Apollo approved of this, albeit with a bit of disappointment. Eustace fully read several books Apollo kept around their small house in only one week, continuing to learn more about his caretaker's past. He had even discovered that he had a lot of relatives outside of Meteor City, including his uncle, Ander Bell. Soon, Eustace discovered that his grandfather was married to a genius that went by the name of Anya Bell, who also happened to be a hunter. Oddly enough, all Apollo told Eustace about her was that she was busy. Sadly, the old man died by the time Eustace was only 11 years old, leaving him by his lonesome with nothing but his digging and books to help cope with his loss. It was only after several months had passed that Eustace had realized something important, there was no way he could lead such a pointless life for much longer, he still had many aspirations and goals he wanted to achieve and he clearly wasn't making much progress by simply moping around. By the age of 12, Eustace had set off on his journey to become an archaeological hunter, achieve his goals, and explore the world!</s> <|message|>Kyōka Kyou being agitated uses her sword and avoided vital spots to knock the thugs out, Arashi smiles of the danger presented to them. Suddenly with a simple snap of his hands he summons more thugs but these thugs aren't really what they seem, it is in fact his nen called March of the Undead; "Come on prove to me that you guys can be hunters!" But before he could overwhelm them, a woman who seems to be his superior smacks him in the head. "Ouch!~" He felt the pain all the way to his spine, the woman with glasses. She is the Investor of the Hunter's Association of Glu City. "Nee-san come on, I was having fun." He said but he got falcon kicked to the face instead, knocking him out. Much to the anti-climactic outcome, the woman's attention turn to the kids. "Don't mind my brother. Talent Scouters are annoying sometimes but I see that he fulfilled his job. He saw potential in you both. I suppose having to teach you nen is the next step." She said</s> <|message|>Eustace Bell Before Eustace could attack anymore of the thugs, a woman wearing glasses had come to hit Arashi over the head, signifying the end of the test. He had to admit, not being able to fight more of them seemed disappointing. Fighting was always so much fun! Impressively, the newcomer had easily been able to knock out Arashi with a simple kick which looked almost painful to look at. Anyone that looked at Eustace's eyes could easily tell that the lady had instantly gained his respect and admiration...he hoped Arashi was still alright after that. Either way, he still needed a few questions. "Hey Ms.Kick, what's nen?" The term had been used by Arashi, but he had never actually explained what the word meant. He had also picked out a nickname for the woman, a tendency of his whenever someone managed to get his friendship or respect. "And how'd all those guys get on the ship?" He hadn't seen them use any sort of vehicle to invade the ship, in fact, it seemed like they had popped out of nowhere! Eustace hoped she could answer his questions, his head hurt just thinking about them.</s> <|message|>Kyōka Path to Hunter! Few hours later, they are in the Love Me Do Tower, it is a twin building that sets a passage to both and is similar to Malaysia's Petrona Towers. Arashi have to prepare everything for 5 hours so that everything is presentable to their guests which is Kyou and Eustace. During that 5 hours, in between; Butlers and Maids attend to care for their needs and entertainment; funny, against their will they were bathed and groomed by the professionals. Eustace and Kyou are wearing professional clothing, dress and tuxedo, Eustace is wearing a dark green tuxedo while Kyou wears a red dress. The Zoldyck Twins Arashi and Shizuka Yes, the both of them are twins. The elder twin is Shizuka, and the younger twin is Arashi; both are from the infamous assassin family, the Zoldyck. Both of them though having some ties with the family, the assassin art isn't really their forte and that is why they carry on their grandfather's tradition of Love Me Do; Talented Hunters Association. It's purpose is to recruit youngsters with hidden talents and make them bloom. Those are also explained in the meeting. In the meeting, there's a grandeur of buffet served to the two future hunters, Kyou and Eustace. Cutting forward to what is promised. "So that is what our company is all about. It is up to you to work with us, there are no ulterior motives but just good business. If you decline, it is too bad but alright but remember this, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." Shizuka said to the kids. "Nen's a technique that allows a living being to use and manipulate their own life energy. We call it aura." Shizuka explained it in a formal and complicated manner but Arashi made it simpler. "In short, energy manipulation. Super powers of all sorts. But what the heck, it is useless to explain when you don't face and see the real thing." Kyou said. "In other words nen is an energy reserve. One of those stuff in fiction where a martial artists has what they call chi?" She clarifies. Arashi replied. "Exactly." Arashi continued. "For example, I am a Specialist. My hatsu allows me to foretell a person's potential, hidden potential, and power levels but as you can see I am also a transmuter as I have summoned those lifeless thugs that you fought." Transmutater? Specialist? Hatsu? Arashi raised more questions than answers to the kids. Shizuka replied. "Don't make it too hard, they don;t comprehend from you. We just met you guys and I know this sounds crazy but we really need you. Aurora Sonata is sadly not here and she's gone missing, she's suppose to take the hunter exam next month and we haven't got contact from her supposed partner and that draws us zero. Truly, it sounds like we want you to replace them but it isn't like that." She said with need. Arashi replied. "You and your drama. Anyhow, the hunter association expects a lot from our company and neither of us sees failure as an option. Once more. Are you in or are you out?" Kyou answered. "I am in. My name is Kyōka Hasegawa and I want to be a Blacklist Hunter and find the one who destroyed my family and restore honor to my clan. I wouldn't call it a goal but an ambition." Driven by revenge, Kyou explicitly explains her motives of becoming a hunter and that is her main reason. The Kyou we knew a while back is laid back but with this reveal, she is revealed to be a serious person with mystery surrounding her. Arashi thought. Like the legends tell. Ha, like ancestor like descendant.. He laughs.</s>
<|message|>Eustace Bell Eustace had been enjoying all of the food the company had to offer as the plethora of information was bestowed upon them. The information was rather peculiar, unlike anything he had heard of. As they said, this "Nen" was the kind of thing that you'd hear about in fiction! That only made the very idea seem much more interesting in his eyes. More than enough to make up for how strange he felt in the green tuxedo they had given him. They had even taken away his hardhat for the time being, leaving his hair (which he had already chosen to messy in order to make himself feel more comfortable) on display for all. Quick to catch on, Eustace figured that there had to be some procedure required for this aura to be of any use. The fact that Arashi said that they couldn't actually see it as of yet was more than enough to tip him off to this fact. While he didn't exactly look the part, the boy was astoundingly smart for his age. However, he still couldn't make heads or tails of the terms they were using, such as "transmuter" or "specialist". Linking them to their denotative meanings didn't seem to help with anything besides making him more puzzled. Though, with the information that had been given to them, it was easy to deduce that a hatsu was akin to a superpower. The deal was way too good, but doubts still harbored in the corner of Eustace's mind. He definitely wanted to meet this Aurora person, she sounded completely cool! On the flip side, accepting would also mean that he'd have to compromise what he wanted to do for what would be best for the Love Me Do, a name which still brought a goofy smile on his face whenever he heard or thought about it. "What d'you think, Kyō?" He decided to go leave the tiebreaker to Kyō, no way could he leave his friend if they answers differed. "Eh?" When she spoke, a look of shock appeared on Eustace's face, followed briefly by one of betrayal. Why hadn't she told him this? Weren't the two of them supposed to be best friends? After all, Eustace never hesitated to tell her about himself. Did she...not trust him? For the first time, Kyō had actually done something to sadden him, worrying him at the same time. Revenge stories never played out well, frankly, they were very dangerous, especially to the one seeking it. He figured that she must have a good reason, but he hoped they could still talk about it later. "Well...I guess I'm in." Eustace said with a much less chipper tone. It sounded pretty strange on him. Kyō could easily pick up on how he was feeling at this point, the twins likely could as well, so he tried to mask his emotions with his next few words. "I'm Eustace Bell, and I want to become an archaeological hunter and maybe even explore the dark continent one day. Glad to meetcha!" The dark continent was the place that most interested him, for his grandfather had once explored it as well. Little did he know that there was actually something drawing him to it. A connection that made his family all the more strange. As he was born in Meteor City, there weren't even documents connecting him to it all. "So, how do we go about learnin' nen, Mr.Handsome?" Long after they had gotten off the boat, Eustace was still calling Arashi Mr.Handsome, the man was basically stuck with the nickname until he said otherwise.</s>
<|description|>Kyo Alavondai Age: 21 Appearance: Personailty: Particularly quiet (possibly because he's almost completely mute) and still a bit shy around people at first, but caring towards other individuals. He has always been a bit spacey, sometimes retreating into his own head for long periods of time until he is interrupted. Of course, he's had to get used to doing this a lot less ever since his mind was invaded by his demon. His favorite flowers are catkins, and he cannot stand any kind of food that appears to have a face for some reason. Other than that, though, he loves food and will normally be fine with eating most anything. He still wears a bell on his wrist from another time in his life. It's very precious to him. Bio: Kyo was also a student in college when the demon appeared in his head, but he takes a lot of online classes still to keep on top of things and is currently the artist for a web series that he works on in his spare time. Even the followers have noted that this series has gotten a bit darker since around a certain time, though exactly why could never be revealed. Demon: Nightmares</s> <|message|>Resolution Law. (Rez.) "Oh, oh, oh, do you have potatoes?????" Rez sprung up from the floor and bounced over to Katherin, a massive grin spreading across his face. He'd never really liked eggs, but that was okay, it was the thought that counted, and anyway, how was she supposed to know what random strangers liked to eat? He started opening cupboards randomly, fishing out a fair sized fry-pan, and setting it on a counter. "Oh, sorry," he muttered, realizing he'd been rude.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter "Please feel free to make yourself at home."Katherin assured him. She was glad that he had felt comfortable enough to go looking for what he needed. She hoped that meant that he felt at home her. She desperately wanted the others to stay. She didn't want to be alone anymore. And she knew they would need each other. People would be hunting them. She wanted her new family to be safe. And she did consider the others family.</s> <|message|>Resolution Law. (Rez.) After receiving permission to keep rummaging, Rez hunted around, grabbing out; a grater, a plate, an armfull of potatoes, a slab of butter and a fish-slice thingie. Dumping them all on the bench, he filled the bottom of the sink with water, scrubbed the potatoes, placed the fry-pan on a hot-plate, turning it on and dropping some butter in. Letting the butter melt, Rez grated the potatoes onto a chopping board, grabbing a couple of handfuls and dropping them into the hot butter. Flipping the potato patties over when each side was cooked, Rez dropped them on the plate, and added more to the pan, grabbing one and munching as he cooked.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai "Good morning, Miss Winter. I hope that you slept well, and thank you for your kindness." Kyo bowed his head slightly when he saw Katherin, greeting her the same way he always felt was natural. "I would be glad to have some of the eggs if that is alright. May I also make some tea if there is any available?" He kept his eyes slightly averted as the tablet read out the request, still unable to make direct eye contact during this sort of situation. It just didn't feel natural to him to do so.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter "Of course you can. I am sure I have some here somewhere."Katherin frowned at the cabinets. She had bought some for herself. But she couldn't remember where she had put it. She started opening cabinets."I've got raspberry and regular. We can go into town later and get whatever I don't have."She told him setting the two flavors down.</s> <|message|>Death A small box filled with an assortment of tea bags sat precariously on the dusty surface of the mahogany table in the old, frigid study. A few empty packages were scattered along side the box. Accompanying the box was a stack of old books, hard cover and full of thick yellowish pages. A soft, ethereal chuckle echoed from the corners of the study as another cup of tea poured itself from a steaming kettle, which somehow stayed hot in spite of the cold air. With one book finished, the slender fingers of a gloved hand set the finished tome down on the table and picked up another, bringing it into the seat along with the refilled teacup. The faint smell of earl grey wafted out from under the study door and into the hall.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai "Thank you, raspberry will be fine. I'm sorry to trouble you like this." Kyo gave a small smile as he placed his tablet down on the counter while he looked for a kettle. After a bit of searching, he eventually found one and began to fill it with water, but stopped in realization before he finished. Turning back to the tablet, he began typing again. "Would you like for me to make a cup for you as well?"</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter "I would love a cup of tea."Katherin replied. she filled her plate with eggs and sat at the table watching the other two. She was glad that she had been chosen to be the keeper of a demon. Because of Secrets she had a chance to make new friends. She had a chance to build a family. Something she doubted thst she coukd have had a chance at without the life changing event of recieving a demon.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai The male's dark hair bobbed along with his head as he nodded in response, prompting him to take the chance to tie it back before he went back to filling the kettle. As soon as he had it set on the stove, he began to search for a couple of teacups. Setting them on the table once he had them in hand, he turned back to the cabinets again. "Do you like cream or sugar, or anything else in your tea?"</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter "Honey please." Katherin answered with a smile. "I was thinking of making a list of things and going into town. I try to go into town ever day or two to feed Secrets and get supplies. You are all welcome to come if you like." She encouraged them hoping that atleast a couple of them would choose to come with her. She wanted to spend more time with them. Plus it would be nice to have company on the trip.</s> <|message|>Resolution Law. (Rez.) Having finished cooking all the homemade potato patties, Rez turned the stove off, snagging himself another pattie, before offering some to the other two. "Can I please come? Into town I mean?" He queried, finishing his mouthful, and grinning happily. He had started to relax around these people, and he couldn't think when that had started, but he was quite fine with it. "Also I hope you don't mind, I might of slept in the library." Taking another massive bite of his food, he leaned against the counter, watching Kyo like a kid might, with the big curious eyes and all.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter "Of course you are welcome to come. I think it is better if we all go together. That way we can all get what we want and need from town."Katherin was glad that they were both interested in going with her. She hoped that spending time with them would help her get to know them. She eat her eggs and drank her tea. She was happy now that she had others in her life. She hoped that it would last awhile.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai Kyo nodded as he brought the rest of the items for the tea to the table, turning back after to bring his tablet with him. "Going into town sounds fine. It would probably be a good idea to learn a bit about the area if we will be here for a while, anyway." He could already think of a few things that he would probably need soon, so the timing seemed very convenient. He wondered if they might find out more about their odd situation somehow as well; there were still so many questions to ask.</s> <|message|>Resolution Law. (Rez.) Polishing off his food, Rez resisted the urge to lick his plate, he really didn't need them thinking he was that rude and wild. "Well then," he said, pushing himself up from where he had been leaning rinsing the plate in the sink, "I'm gonna go get changed, uhhh…… where do you want this?" he gestured with the plate, flinging tiny drops of water everywhere within a three foot radius. "Oh sorry." He muttered, slowly seeming to age from his hyper five-year-old attitude, to a more laid back ten-year-old mind-frame.@KatherinWinter</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter @SilverWolfAngel "Just set it on the counter. I will put everything away while you guys get ready. The town people are very friendly. They have been very helpful. I'll show you around. I haven't explore all of the city but I know where most of the stuff is. So if you make a list we can get the whatever you need."Katherin told them as she finished her food. She carried her plate over to the sink. She quickly washed them.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai Kyo nodded as he soon finished eating and brought his dishes to the sink as well, hoping not to take too long in in getting ready. "Thank you, Miss Winter. Should we meet in the front hall once we have prepared?" The prospect of going out was becoming more appealing by the minute, and he already had a few ideas in mind for what he needed to do.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter Katherin nodded. That was a good place for them to meet. She finished putting things away before heading to the front hall. She tucked her tablet into her purse so that she would have it if she needed it.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai After a few minutes of searching for his room again followed by some short preparations, Kyo eventually stepped out into the hall again and tried to navigate back toward the front of the building as quickly as possible. "I apologize for the wait." He let the tablet read out his message when he approached the meeting point and Katherin, inclining his head the way he normally did for such things. Taking a moment to adjust the soft grey jacket he wore and the small messenger bag over his shoulder, he looked around to see if the other male had arrived yet.</s> <|message|>Resolution Law. (Rez.) Heading out to where his motorbike had been abandoned, Rez rifled through the panniers, pulling out a rumpled but clean grey tee shirt and tugging it on. Digging deeper he snagged a few things he thought might need and dropped them all in a bum-bag that he then belted snugly round his waist. Slipping back into the castle he saw he was back just behind Kyo. "sorry if I'm late" he offered, then brightened "So, can we go now?" he shrugged back into his light-morning-blue hoodie and held the door open, standing like doormen supposedly do, "Madam, Sir." he gestured.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter "Ready?"Katherin smiled at the other two. She was still hoping more would come but she would have to wait and see. She opened the door and lead the way to her VW bus. She didn't know if the others had brought their own transportation or not. She would prefer they travel together but she would understand if they wanted to go on their own.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai Kyo nodded to the other male out of habit as he held the door open and walked outside after Katherin. As she led them to her vehicle, he suddenly realized that he hadn't had any idea of how they would be traveling to get to town. He would have to be a bit more careful of things like that in the future; of course it wouldn't be likely for town to be that close. Tapping on the surface of the tablet again, he typed out another message: "Will we be going by car, then? About how far is it to town?"</s> <|message|>Resolution Law. (Rez.) Letting the door swing shut with a clank, Rez skipped along behind the other two happily, small clumps of gravel spilling out from under his feet. He skidded slightly, pulling to a stop next to Katherin, content to hitch a lift with her. He gave her a smile, happy, just cause.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter @SilverWolfAngel "Yes we will be going by car. We can take mine." Katherin answered indicating to her van. "It not far about five miles. But most of it is mountain. Going down wouldn't be hard but going back up with supplies could be a challenge." She didn't mind walking but climbing the mountain wasn't that much fun. It wasn't something she wanted to do with supplies. Still it was his choice.</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai "I see." Kyo nodded once again, agreeing that climbing the mountain on the way back probably wouldn't be the best idea. "Alright, then. Shall we go?" He smiled and made his way over to the vehicle, ready to head on out.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter @SilverWolfAngel Katherin started the car and headed down the mountain. She was looking forward to showing them around town. She told him alittle about the town as she drove wanting to make them feel at home. When the reached the bottom of the mountain she headed to the superstore. She figured that way they could almost everything at once. "Do you want to stay together or go on our own?"</s> <|message|>Kyo Alavondai Kyo listened carefully as Katherin relayed what she knew about the town, doing his best to memorize what he could. He knew that he probably wouldn't get it all in one try, but at least he had something to go off of for the time being. As they approached the destination, he found himself slightly unsure as to how he wanted to go about the task ahead of them. It probably wouldn't matter, but it did seem like a pretty big store... "I am fine either way, though perhaps it might be better with some direction, since it's still a fairly new place. It seems like a rather large one, at that."</s> <|message|>Resolution Law. (Rez.) "Together, together." Rez sang slightly, bouncing on his toes. Then pulling himself together he added, more seriously; "But maybe if we want we could split off later?" For now he was happy to follow the others.</s> <|message|>Katherin Winter Katherin nodded as she climbed out of the car. She took her tablet out to answer. "Yes. If you want to explore on your own I understand. Just be careful. There are people who are hunting us. No one knows who we are yet and we dont want to attract their attention. But we can only hid so long."</s>
<|message|>Kyo Alavondai The dark-eyed man's brow furrowed slightly in concern as he heard Katherin's warning. "Hunting? Why?" Such a thing was certainly concerning; who would do something like that? And should they have taken more precautions before leaving the castle if this were true? He tried to think back on whether or not she had mentioned anything about it before, but he couldn't seem to be sure. If only I hadn't been so tired...this kind of information is something important to have very early on...I should have been listening more closely...</s>
<|description|>Elijah "Eli" Cassidy Age: 23 Place of Birth: Massachusetts Gender: Male Species: Human Language: English --- Physical Description Height: 5'6'' Stature: Years of either kneeling or sitting haven't done much for Eli's body. He's stick-thin and has just bones, some meat, and skin. Hair: He's got dark-chocolate brown hair. He usually keeps it at a short cut but Eli has been letting his curls grow out a bit. Eyes: Cloudy-blue. Skin tone: Pale as a ghost. As a child, Eli preferred to stay inside and pray. He's got a smooth and unblemished complexion. Who knows what the sun will do to him. Features: Eli has an oval face with defined cheekbones, a slightly pointed chin, and a sturdy jaw line. His lips are full and with a cupids bow. His eyes are in a rounded almond shape that are emphasized by his double eye-lids. His slightly bushy eyebrows are forever scrunched up. Attire: Black clerical shirt, black pants, black robe, black everything. When not preaching, he'll wear some dark brown overalls and white dress shirt. --- Personality: Eli is your typical staunch believer who wants to spread the word to everyone. He's rather calm and subdued in his actions, preferring to fade in the background. While he may seem meek, do not cross over Eli's no-no line. While it may seem like he's patient and thick-headed, he really isn't. In fact, he can be quite a stubborn bull when he truly believes in something. Other than that, he's polite and always keeps his promises. He chooses to live with a smile on his face and without fear clouding his judgement. Skills/Talents: If there's one thing special about Eli, it's his way with words. He's got a convincing voice and paired along with his passion, he can easily persuade a crowd. Dislikes: Eli can't say that he dislikes anything. He's pretty tolerant and straight as an arrow. However, he does have trouble dealing with sarcastic grumps. Ambitions: To help people accept Christ. Eli wishes to take the most run-down soul and teach him the word so that he or she can go to heaven. Philosophy of Life: Live life to the fullest. Though, you can say that Eli doesn't really follow his philosophy. The only thing he lives for is the Bible. Religions/Beliefs: God has always been a part of his life. After all, he was saved by a priest, who took him in and raised him to become a priest. He's forever grateful to his adopted father and wishes to follow his footsteps. Children: Virgin. Sexuality and History: Virgin. He's very thick-headed when it comes with relationships. You have to be super direct in order for Eli to even realize someone is interested in him. He's easily embarrassed when someone talks to him about sexual matters and prefers not to involve himself in such…indecencies if you will. Addictions: It's not really an addiction, but more of a bad-habit Eli can't rid himself of. Whenever he gets stressed, he will kneel right there and then and just pray for hours. Family: Eli does not know his parents. He lived off the streets for a while until he turned five when he was adopted by a priest. Back then, Eli was feral. He would bite, scratch, and hiss at the priest; he couldn't even speak English. His bad behavior would continue well into his adolescence until he came across an old-worn bible. Soon enough, the elderly priest was reading the tale of Jonah or Ruth to him at bed time. Little Eli longed to be able to read the Bible himself, so he dedicated all of his time to studying and praying. With patience and tender love, Eli grew up to become a respectable priest like his adopted father. After being ordained to priesthood, the diocese relocated him to Kansas.</s> <|message|>Elijah "Eli" Cassidy Eli couldn't help the small squeak of surprise that left his lips. His hand jumped off the door knob as if it were on fire before he whipped around to face the owner of the voice. The priest was prepared to lecture Finn's ears off, to nitpick every detail that didn't fall along the lines of a good and religious man. However, the moment he saw Finn, his chest tightened and he could hardly breathe. Not even he could tell what it was about him that struck Eli with such force. And even if it had become clear to him, it was not something he could explain in words. Perhaps it was dread, not happiness that the lanky man hadn't run away. Eli hoped it was. The next thing that caught his attention was how Finn was noticeably clean. Then his eyes traveled upwards to stare long and hard at that trademark grin before a hint of his own smile graced his face. Despite Finn's lack of clothes, Eli wasn't as perturbed as he was yesterday though his face was still a healthy shade of red. A mixture of pride and relief blossomed in his chest; God was indeed watching over him. "Don't think so highly of yourself," Eli said lightly. "And please put on some clothes," he asked with an imploring gaze.</s> <|message|>BADFOOL Finn's thumbs hooked under the waist of his pants, his stance shifting from loose casualty into a stiffening challenge. He could stand living under a priest's roof, wading through his patience as they talked about his sins and misdeeds, he could even stomach the idea of sitting through hours of a personal sermon and bible passages. At least it was the kind of content his mind could roll around in that red head of his, but being prim and proper just wasn't in his nature. Like a petulant child, Finn's brows slumped, his lips pursed and with a cock of his head he was already at it, bright and early. "Think highly of myself? Huh," two broad shoulders widened if at all possible, and he stared the little priest down like some sort of sly fox to a rabbit. "And here I am, standing higher than you. You can get me to listen to your Christ stories all day long but it don't mean you're gonna get me to do a song and dance 'bout it when they come checking up on me." An otherwise aggressive statement came as natural as any other thing that came out of his mouth. A loose shrug of his shoulders, quirk of his light brows and he seemed to finish the honest blurb. "'Sides, you were the one who didn't want me as dirty like a grub no more. You want me to look nice? Ain't gonna happen wearin' the same clothes they wrangled me down in." Finn tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, already having rounded back down the stairs, feet clomping down against the hardwood with each step. "Oh, 'n that's a mighty fine way you have your hair, thought I might add."</s> <|message|>Elijah "Eli" Cassidy Finn was, predictably, still determined to make Eli's life more difficult than it should be. The priest couldn't help but shrink a little when the taller man stared down at him. At first, he felt exasperated that Finn wasn't going to accept Christ, even when it was something that the judge and the other townsfolk would certainly look for. Sharp words were waiting to leap from the tip of his tongue but Eli made sure he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to instigate another candid speech nor aggravate Finn any further. "You could at least pretend when the others visit," Eli muttered under his breathe after Finn retreated downstairs. He pawed at his hair, attempting to tame his wild curls. "The Judge'll have my hide in no time." Already planning his escape back to Boston, he meekly slipped back into his room with a worried expression. Maybe he could strike up a deal with Finn later. Pretend to love Christ, let Eli live another year, and then he could go back to his evil ways when the Judge deemed Finn socially acceptable. Eli suddenly froze, his eyes wide open as he gazed at the dust particles slowly falling to the floor. He then pursed his lips and sank to his knees to pray for forgiveness. A good while later, Eli was stiffly going down the stairs dressed in his clerical clothes. The constant kneeling did a good number on his knees and back. He already lost his appetite and even though he had a good nights sleep, he was exhausted. The half-dead priest took a seat at the kitchen table, his hands neatly folded in front of him. What should he do now? Befriend more townsfolk, somehow work with Finn, and - He blinked a few times, an image of a half-naked Finn burned into his retinas. Buy clothes. Eli doubted that his own clothes would be able to cover Finn's body properly. He sighed. "Is there anything specific you'd like to do today?" Eli asked, treading carefully.</s> <|message|>BADFOOL Finn walked with the gait of a lazy feline. He wound around the house, picking and prodding the modest setup with dwindling curiosity. It would have been easy to slip out of the house, to simply unlatch the door and make a mad dash down the dusty road. But where would that lead him? Without a weapon and a sense of direction, no motive and no connections Finn was about as helpless as...well, as someone like Eli. Of course, excluding the sense of wit that came with years of escaping the clutches of the law. It wasn't in him to be especially patient, but patience was going to help him survive if he expected to be back on his feet again rather than hanging from the end of a rope. "You're allowin' me an option? Hnn..." Finn scoffed, perching his palms around the tabletop and leaning like a faulty post what with how tall and narrow he stood. A feigned look of thought passed through two furrowed brows, head tick-tocking to the side as he thought. "You ain't gonna let me do half'a what I want, will ya? Won't let me drink nothin' either. Nothin' wrong with it too, like you Christ lovers think." Then, puffing a sigh he twist one of the chairs around and planted himself backwards on it with folded arms atop the backing and even perched his chin atop one of his wrists. It was Eli's game now, the calm before the storm that Finn had already begun to brew up in his mind. "You gonna parade me round muzzled and leashed when you take me out places? Dress me up all proper too? Or am I the homebound sort for now?" Finn should have been bitter. Should have roused up his anger like any other jaded man strapped down and chained to a lawful fate. Somehow, Finn took it in stride, with a much more apathetic nature for it all. "Fool Judge thinks he can break me? Huh, I find fun anywhere I go."</s> <|message|>Elijah "Eli" Cassidy Eli didn't say anything lest he erupt into a speech about the bad influences of alcohol. He never drank before but he'd seen people act out of character because of it. He didn't particularly enjoy having someone project vomit on him nor did he want to deal with groping hands. Gazing at Finn with a rather defeated look, Eli was almost tempted to go out and buy a muzzle and leash for Finn out of spite. "I would never do that to you," he defensively replied as if he wasn't thinking about it. "I just hope your idea of 'fun' doesn't get me killed." Eli smiled weakly. "Look," the priest suddenly began, leaning in a bit to firmly stare at Finn. "At least try to cooperate with me until..." He paused, trying to search for the right words. Would the Judge even let Finn out of the sights? Eli was certain the man would have Finn in the gallows again at first chance. Eli would've like to take Finn out of the house but now he was frightened that the man would do something both of them would regreet. "Please?"</s> <|message|>BADFOOL Finn's head tick-tocked in thought. Eli wasn't as good with conviction as he'd hoped, at least not to the redhead. The priest was undoubtedly strange to him, his way of life not only a wonder but their exchanges thus far. Strange, for a man to both give him a mercy no one else would dare and all the while find the nerve to change him. It would take more than a bible lesson or a sugary sermon or a dose or two of kindness his way for Finn to strap himself down alongside the rest of humanity, find a sense of decency and behave himself. Of course, it didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy Eli's helpless pleadings, the glint of fear in his eyes each time he felt the metaphorical leash slipping from his most holy hands. Perhaps it was cruel of him to test Eli's faith in him to contain himself, but regardless of that it was just about the only thing Finn could delight in. "Huh, please? Well, that's awful polite of 'ya." The man's jaw rolled back and forth, wagering in his mind just exactly what was in it for him. It had been some time since he'd gotten fresh air, even the lowliest of men needed it from time to time. Stuffed up in a dingy cell wasn't his idea of living, and while Finn didn't define it by living in solidarity alongside a priest it sure as hell was better than rotting away behind bars. Maybe there were perks of going along with Eli's order, if it earned him a reward from time to time Finn pieced together a plan of bribery. A win-win agreement wasn't all that deviant of him, now was it? If they both got what they wanted. "And say I do go 'long with what you want. On occasion. What exactly you got in mind to repay me with to keep me...ah, 'interested' with the Lord? 'f I make you look like Christ himself to all these bastards who wanted me dead, as if you actually know what you're doin', don''t you think that earns me something too? Or are you interested in seein' 'my idea of fun'? It's only fair."</s>
<|message|>Elijah "Eli" Cassidy Eli looked uncertainly around the room as Finn took his sweet time to answer. His little plea resounded in his head. Pathetic and a clear sign that Eli was already at his wit's end. He had already come to terms that Finn wouldn't accept the Lord or allow Eli to change him 'for the better'. But the determined yet naive priest still had that inkling of faith driving him forward. With enough persistence and good-will, Finn would surely understand the Lord's truth - just like younger Eli. So when Finn had struck up a deal with him, he reluctantly agreed. Whatever Finn's version of fun was, Eli wasn't looking forward to it. He pursed his lips, eyebrows scrunching up in thought before making his decision. Well, whatever it was, it couldn't be that bad. Besides, Finn was smart enough not to do anything illegal for the time being. "Fine, what is it?" He huffed out with annoyance, trying not to show that he was desperate enough to do anything in exchange for good behavior.</s>
<|description|>Kassandra Keigwan Appearance: Age: 24 Role: Priest Skills: High emotional IQ, is excellent at reading people, gaining trust, and telling when someone is lying. Is excellent with children, has a very large amount of patience. Also makes really good cookies. She also has a very beautiful singing voice. Magic/supernatural abilities: Kassy can cast all manner of illusions, from sight and sound, tactile, and a limited amount of taste and scent illusions. - Kassy has intermittent visions of the future. When the visions come upon her, her mind is transported there. Her body is almost completely immobile, anywhere from ten seconds to a minute. -Kassy can also control people's minds. How easily they can be commanded is dependent on the will of the person. Kassy's powers would fail against another old soul like hers. She also can't control anyone under the age of 6. Kassy is loathe to use this power on anyone, and it is a last resort. Equipment: A solid wooden staff, a large earthen jug full of crystal clear water, ashes from a clean sacrificial fire, incense. Personality: On the outside, Kassy is quiet and almost meek. Truthfully, she is a gentle soul, but at the core of her lies steel. She hates to see anything she considers 'bullying' and will stand up for people when they're hurt. She loves to make others happy, but is slowly learning that she doesn't have to sacfrifice herself to do that. Kassy rarely loses her cool, but when she does, it seems to unbottle deep pain that has been festering for years. Biography: Kassy's mother was a world-renowned medium, one who could speak to the 'other side'. Her parents traveled the world with little Kassy in tow, going from one place to another to further her mother's work. Some people believed whole-heartedly, while others were quite skeptical. They got attention wherever they went, but not all of it was positive attention. Kassy in particular felt quite alienated- she was born with her white hair, and odd-colored eyes. In some places, people were sure that her mother had consorted with some 'unholy force' to concieve such a child. When Kassy was eight, Kassy's mother died during a showing, in the middle of contacting a spirit. Her father was distraught, and after months of grieving decided he couldn't care for his child anymore. He put her under the care of her mother's sister, Kassy's aunt Krista. He promised to return for her when he felt better. Kassy hasn't seen her father since. Her aunt Kristy hated her sister Kaia for what she was, and thought her sister nothing more than attention-seeking fraud. As a result of this hatred, she treated her niece like dirt: ruining her confidence at every turn, making sure no one in town would see her as normal, missing no opportunity to call her a freak, or wrong, or devil-child.</s> <|message|>Kethuala As the rain grew in intensity outside, Kethuala sat around the fire, petting his pet Bear. Thankfully, they'd managed to gather a decent supply of firewood before it started to rain so hard, but the supply wouldn't last forever. "Come." he said to the others. "If we are to be stuck here, we may as well make some use of it. If no one objects, I would link our minds together, and take us back to the first battle. If we are to learn of the Demon Lord, we must see how we fought him in the past." --- After all questions had been answered and everyone was comfortable, he arranged to have Bear watch over them and awaken him if there was any trouble. He then reached out with his mind and linked them, and dove back into the past, further than he'd every gone before. --- Ata'ka'thu left the tent as the sun arose. Her dreams last night had been of a dark creature, with eyes the color of blood. It crushed villages beneath its feet, and devoured people and animals alike. In her dream she ran, unwilling to stop, lest it catch and eat her as well. When she made it to the sacred tree, however, the creature stopped its prusuit, and walked away. She shook the dream from her mind. She needed to gather her berries and herbs quickly, as she could feel a storm approaching. This storm felt angry, though, as if the spirits of the rain and thunder had malice towards the people of the land. Knowing she must hurry, however, she ignored the approaching storm and climbed down the hill into the valley. She approached the overproducing bushes of blue and black berries and of grapes and trees of nuts. As she finished gathering the first bushes berries, though, she saw a person approaching. She knew not whether they were friend or foe, man or woman, but she was kind to all until they proved that they had evil in their hearts against her or her people. "Are you hungry?" she called out to them. "I have fresh berries, if you want some of them." Often, the best way to make a new friend was to offer them a meal.</s> <|message|>Kiro Stirling Zuhk walked out into the valley from the treeline marking the edge of the forest. His satchel full of hearbs he'd later use to make poisons to coat his blades in. He watched the ground as he walked through valley, scanning the ground for any herbs that may grow out in the open. Seeing something that he couldn't necessarily use for poisons, he bent Dow to pick it up; knowing he could most deffdeffinetely sell if to a medicine mixer due to its healing properties. Admists standing back up straight he saw a woman in the field picking berries. Slowly Zuhk walked towards her, unsure if she'd prove to be hostile. As he moved his hands towards one of his throwing knives Zuhk heard the woman call out him in a welcoming manner, 'Hey are you hungry? I have fresh berries.' This could be a trap of sorts, a complete stranger offering food to another stranger... I should keep on my toes. Upon approaching the woman Zuhk masked his face with a smile, squinting his eyes slightly as he did so. "Oh no, I'm not hunger, thank you though." Zuhk said to her as he put both his hands up slightly to wave them back and forth. The smile on his slowly disappeared as he lowered his hands. Looking up to the sky he could see dark clouds approaching from the distance, a fierce storm was certainly on its way. "What are you doing out here?" Averting his eyes from the sky and back to the woman. "There's a storm coming and it seems to be a big one."</s> <|message|>Sal Heath Sal, was sitting in the back of the Cavern, busying himself with sharpening his weapons with one of the whetstones he always carried with him. It still seemed slightly odd to him that he was here, in a place that only a short while ago he didn't know existed and with someone he seemed, 'linked to', like it was fate. Though he did not question it, and just accepted that he was fated to be here, as that seemed the right thing to do. Shaking his head to pull his thoughts away from questioning the why of now, he pocketed his whetstone, put the weapon he had finished working on a loop on his belt and stood. Just in time to hear Kethuala say for him and others to gather together and link minds. Again he felt a link just like the one he felt before, and nodded towards Keth. Maybe there is this Demon Lord, and maybe I had fought him, I just... Can't seem to remember. So without hesitation he sat next to Keth., looked around for the others and not seeing them he shrugged. He assumed they would gather soon, and he closed his eyes waiting for the mind link to occur.</s>
<|message|>Kassandra Keigwan A figure in a woolen cloak walked the path of the forest, her dark feet bare and near silent. Achieng was happy. A woman had just had the healthy birth of their second child. A healthy girl. Achieng had visited once the birth was done, to bless the child in the name of the Warm Goddess. It was a duty and a pleasure to welcome new little lives into the world. It had been her mother's job, and her grandmother's job, and one day, with her own daughters, perhaps it would be theirs too. The forest seemed strangely busy today. Tugging back her hood, Achieng revealed her face. It was soft and pleasant, and tattooed with the symbols of a Goddess dedicate. Within the season, she'd become a full priestess, and the two marks on her cheeks would be joined by a third on her forehead.</s>
<|description|>Kuhaku Shiro Age: 17 Gender: Male Race: Faunus (White-Tiger based) Weapon: Kladenets & Perun A Charge-Blade and Axe-Shield combination weapon. The two weapons have the unique ability of fusing into a single, larger weapon. Taking the form of a giant axe for a more powerful, albeit slower, combat style. The sword becomes the shaft of the axe with the shield becoming the axe's head. Internally, his weapons house a hidden firing mechanism that allow him to load Dust Ammunition. With loaded ammunition he can unleash destructive, close-ranged, explosive blasts. Speciality: Though he doesn't necessarily fall into a single, defined role he primarily engages close-ranged combat, but can act as a defensive off-hand tank with his shield and utilizing his Semblance, provide a supportive role. With his shield, he can skillfully defend and attack at the same time with his sword at extremely close ranges. Sheathing his sword into his shield, he can then switch to a defensive position to guard himself or his teammates. As part of his versatile and adaptive nature, his shield has a bladed edge and short punch-spike at its base that allows his shield to double as a weapon. Hidden within his shield is a speed-loader that can quickly reload his sword with a full magazine of Dust Ammunition in the event of an emergency. Combining his sword and shield together to from his Great Axe, he trades speed and defense for a purely offensive style of combat. With his giant Axe he can use his impressive strength to cleave, crush, and smash through large groups of enemies at once. Though his attacks with his Axe are much slower and in wide arcs, the sheer brute power of the weight of the axe and its slightly increased melee range makes it a fearsome weapon in Kuhaku's hands. In either its sword or axe form, Kuhaku can load special Dust Ammunition to either 'Burn' or 'Fire'. 'Burning' a round, he can propel himself short distances for a powerful and quick strike. 'Firing' a round unleashes an explosive blast in a small area in front of himself. His explosive dust attacks all require ammunition and as such, he wears a belt with Dust Shotshells on them. Semblance: The King's Voice - With the sound of his roar, he can temporarily remove mental limiters on he and his teammates' minds. Allowing them to fight with enhanced senses and bolstered physical capability for a few minutes at a time. For his enemies, the sound of his roar has the opposite effect. Muddling their senses to reduce their effectiveness and confusing them. However, his Semblance comes to him at a cost. The more often he utilizes his Semblance, side effects start to appear though only in himself. The side effects can range anywhere from headaches, impaired senses, seizures, temporary memory loss or permanent memory loss. Not only coming with side effects, there are certain conditions to his Semblance in order for it to be completely effective, if at all. Whenever he prepares to utilize his Semblance, his golden eyes turn a burning, glowing blue. With black 'stripes' appearing on his 'fur', face, and arms. His stripes and eyes can also act as a timer, fading as the effects of his Semblance wears off. Personality: Having been orphaned at a very young age, Kuhaku never had a home to call his own. As such, he primarily lived in orphanages, moving to a new one every so often. Growing up having never known his own family, he was constantly abused and subjected to prejudice due to his race. Though due to his strong will and good heart, he never held the abuse he went through against Humankind and overcame his rough upbringing. He endured humankind's irrational hatred and treatment of his own kin. Desiring to prove to others that the Faunus were not the 'beasts' and 'animals' most humans labeled his kind as, he enrolled in Signal as soon as he was able to. He believes that his enrollment to become a future Hunter as a way of demonstrating that Faunus and Humans can coexist and work together peacefully. He one day wishes to become a legendary Hunter to end the Grimm threat and prevent any future generations from ever having to go through what he did, having lost his family. As part of his good-hearted nature, you'll always see him in a generally bright and happy mood. Kind and polite to all who meet him, he treats most everyone with the same level of warmth and respect akin to that of a close, long-time friend. Outgoing, loud, energetic and enthusiastic are just a few characteristics to describe him. As a result of his tough childhood he has a deep understanding of other people's hardships and pain, granting him a strong sense of empathy. Quick to trust others and make friends, Kuhaku doesn't have a hateful bone in his body, despite what other ignorant humans might think. Color: Sky-Blue Emblem: Appearance: [All rights reserved to Nitroplus for the character image. Credit goes to Lugubrious for the Emblem!]</s> <|message|>Gren Orchid Air Docks Ready for adventure Things were starting to get a bit out of hand, but it wasn't anything unusual for Gren. Seemed like a lot of things he gets involved in tends to get blown out of proportions. If any more people showed up Gren would be legitimately concerned about trying to feed and entertain all of them. Ironically enough, it wasn't until Shiro came dashing in that the situation could be more controllable. The white tiger came in fast as he crashed into Gren, but as he was already in a low seated position he only slightly tilted forward. Looking over at Shiro, Gren picked his friend up and dusted him off. Then Gren handed a Shiro a skewer before he started packing up his grill. "About time you showed up. I thought me and Sangue were going to have to hunt you down! Well, the gang's all here then." Gren looked over to Skyra and Emerald, who was now joined by Sepia and Diamond. Sepia wanted to know about their birthdays out of the blue, but Gren obliged her request. "July fourth." It also seemed that Emerald was skipping out of a very important healing process called resting. Gren gave Emerald a sympathetic smile and spoke. "You should head back with Diamond and rest up Emerald. We can play together once you're feeling better. Anyways, me, Shiro and Sangue are going to head to Forever Fall's to pick up some raw materials for upgrades. If you have any request, come find me!" It was then that their airship had arrived. Once Gren had all this things put away he walked into the airship bound for Forever Fall, hopefully with Shiro and Sangue in tow. He still had the scent of his kebabs fresh on his person, though he intended to get some alone time to rid himself of the stretch. As delicious as it smelled, it was a bit awkward to smell like BBQ. "You two make yourself comfortable, we'll be at Forever Fall's in no time." @NarayanK@harinezumikouken@SevenStormStyle@Abillioncats@PyroDash888</s> <|message|>Benjamin Lloyd Sinatra @Kaithas @NarayanK Woooo-sah. Ben didn't miss a beat, drinking in the hot, black c o f f e e he needed to keep his wits about him. Coffee. Bitter. Bitter coffee. Fixate on that. The coffee. "It was pretty... Chaotic. And Lauren and I have a very different definition of 'accident'." The brown-haired boy commented, taking another drink of the coffee and casting a glance Amy's way. He held up his closed notebook towards Lauren by way of answer, then elaborated; "I woke up early, decided to get some work done instead of going back to sleep. It's a Saturday, so I haven't got much else to do." "I'll swing by the armory later, see about getting acquainted. And you and I have a date with a new tonfa."</s> <|message|>Jack Orpheus Jack Orpheus Cypher@Suku Jack froze completely as he listened to the ferret's story, holding his sandwich mid-bite before lowering it around the end of the story. So it's been through a lot, he never thought he'd hear it from its own mouth. It seems Scoot belongs to Team Swansong, pet-wise, technically, even if it didn't feel that way it was a much more convenient term. Between experiments and the regular meeting someone nice and now it's good times, what were those experiments all about...? Scoot was probably not the right one to ask about that, but he felt he didn't want to know anyways. "Mhm, mhm, sounds good for you now... Cian why were you following it around? And where's Gren and all?", he spoke in-between his bites.</s> <|message|>Skyra Dawn Cypher@Abillioncats@SevenStormStyle Skyra poked Emerald's nose before moving onto the meal. "Follow your team leader's advice, Emmy! You're still sick!" She took a plate and two steaks and proceeded to munch on them. On the steak, not the plate, that is. In the middle of a chewing on a piece of roasted meat, Skyra noticed a bit too late what Gren had said. "Ah, you're going to get stuff, I nee..." aaaand that was when the doors to the airship closed and it lifted off. Skyra stood there, staring at the airship taking off into the distance, her mouth covered with a few spots of barbecue sauce. "Shit..." Instead of continuing to eat, Skyra pulled out a handkerchief, cleaned her head, her mouth and anything else dirty before moving on to turn on her scroll and starting up the messaging application. ``` To: The Grim One Uh, I didn't manage to tell you. I plan to modify/create a new weapon. A bow that converts into two blades with a quiver armed with dust tipped arrows. If you manage to find some materials for that on your excursion, I'd be happy to take them from you, even buy them from you, if you need me to. ~Skyra ``` She pressed "send" and put her scroll away and turned to Sepia. "May fifth. My birthday." She grinned and went back to her steaks waiting for a response.</s> <|message|>Emerald "Emmy" Felicia @Kaithas@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN@Forsythe@floodtalon Emerald's tail fluffed up a bit when she heard Diamond's scolding voice. She'd been hoping it would have taken longer for Diamond to find her. Her facial expression was like one of a child who had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "My...my mom?" Emerald almost rolled her eyes, her mom was about as gentle and softhearted as they could get. Diamond's threat wasn't scary to her at all. "The worst she'd do is sent me a get well soon card with a lot of hearts on it." Her dad on the other hand well...she wasn't gonna think about that. Gren told her she should get some rest, and even Skyra said about the same as she poked her nose. Maybe...maybe it would be better to just go back with Diamond, she was feeling more than a little tired, all the walking she had done just to get to the hanger had been more exhausting than she wanted to admit. Wait no! She didn't want to go back there, she hated being stuck in there! All it did was remind her what had happened to her and her team. And...and she was afraid, afraid of a repeat of her latest nightmare. She used to love sleeping and having dreams, but now she was terrified of the idea. She looked at Diamond, her body a bit shaky as she steadied herself. She felt sick with dread and combining that with her weakened, dizzy body was making it difficult to even stand there. "I...I don't want to go back...please..." She said, barely audible as she found herself leaning against a wall. Her vision blurred as she found it more difficult to focus, her heart pumping loudly as she felt more and more panicked.</s>
<|message|>Kuhaku Shiro "I'm okay!" The world in his vision spun. Round and round endlessly making him feel queasy as he swore he heard the annoying twitter of circling birds flying overhead, though he couldn't see them. From just below the very border of his vision, he saw Sangue's face pop up offering her one and only hand to help him up after his little...'mishap'. Smiling, just about to reach for her offered hand to help himself up, Gren beat her to the punch and scooped him up. Like a kitten being grabbed by its scruff, Shiro's body stiffened until he was set back onto his feet. Blinking, he did a quick self check. Still had feeling in his toes. Still had feeling in his hands. He could see, hear, and smell everything okay. He didn't feel like he was going to immediately die and didn't sense any feeling of danger. So, he was okay. Smiling with ears twitching happily, he lived through another one of his 'moments'. Speaking of smell Gren handed him a kebab of meat, to which he stared at for a moment before realizing that was what smelled so good. What was with Gren constantly cooking anyways? He could never understand his friend's obsession with it, but everyone had their hobbies so he just shrugged and bit into his gifted snack. As he ate, airship just off in the distance, he turned his attention to the others in the group and saw that quite a little crowd had gathered. Was it because of Gren's cooking or was everyone going to Forever Falls for different reasons? Nomming away, he saw a particular faunus girl that he knew a bit better than the rest. That...canine faunus. Sepia. She was apparently going around asking others for their birthdays for one reason or another. Hearing each of them list off the days and months they were born, Shiro's chewing slowed as his expression sobered up. ... He didn't know his birthday. Truth be told, he hadn't known his birthday for as far as memory would allow. When he was discovered, found, rescued, whatever you want to call it. They just assumed his age or so he thought. Whenever he attempted to ask the adults responsible for overseeing him and the other orphans, they simply told him "You're [blank] age now." Without ever giving a specific year, month, or day. It made a few things difficult in his life, but for simplicity's sake, he always figured that whenever the new year rolled around that he had also aged a year. So, on all official documents with his personal information, he always put January 1st and counted back the years appropriately for his birth year. He could've been either much older or younger than he thought, but without any information, family, relatives to refer to, there was no telling. As with many things in his life, they were all lies, made up, or assumed. Information filled into blank, empty space to simply fill in a box on a form. So, he slowly turned away from Sepia and the others. Acting as if he hadn't heard the question posed to them all and looked up to see the airship coming and quickly finished off his kebab. Pulling his hood over his head and ears, Shiro slipped out his Scroll and resumed his work on the finer details of Sangue's future arm. Intent on staying as under the radar as he could all of a sudden, after his ...energetic entrance.</s>
<|description|>Nova Blake Nova has jet black hair that reaches the small of her back when wet and sharp, crystal blue eyes. Age: 25 Gender: Female Birth Place: Galio Weight: 145 lbs Height: 5'9" Personality: Nova is the oddball of her family, the dreamer amongst warriors. She is extremely intelligent, however her interest in the bigger picture often causes her to miss the small things, thus making her sound like an airhead to strangers. Much like a child, Nova is incredibly caring and abnormally trusting, but to betray her is a mistake. When frightened or upset she has a tendency to explode, both verbally and physically, a fuse that isn't often tripped but best left untouched. Ontop of her trusting personality, Nova becomes incredibly curious about the strangest of things and easily consumed with her distractions. Bio: Nova grew up in Galio with her parents and two older brothers, her father (a soldier) being the only wielder in the family line. In the early years of her childhood, Nova showed no signs of being a gifted wielder but her father wished for his children to be able to defend themselves in the case of a foreign invasion. Being much smaller than her older brothers, Nova adapted to a style of fighting quite unique to her agile abilities. It wasn't until she turned 8 that her parents noticed Nova's increasing distractability, her mind drifting to places the rest of her family oculd not follow. They kept an eye on her, expecting it to be a temporary condition, however in the following two years they discovered she was gifted. Unlike her father, Nova's element was much less tangible, more of a second sight than anything usefull. By the age of 15, however, Nova was able to predict celestial events and locate objects in rooms other than the one she occupied. Finding her abilities intriguing, Nova's father spent more time helping her train her abilities as a wielder, leaving her brothers to train alone. It took seven long years for anything major to happen, but once that seal had broken, it was as if Nova had gained a necessary understanding of her element allowing her to advance through her self-training more quickly. Now, at the age of 25, Nova has decided to travel to the city of Ladria in order to attend Rohad Academy, hoping to learn the necessary skills to push her abilities to the next level. Wielder or Duel Wielder: Wielder Element(s): Space (Some she has developed, others are for the future.) * Gravity Nullification: (Undeveloped) Nova has the ability to nullify the effect gravity has on particular objects, rendering them virtually weightless. The bigger the object, the less effect this ability has on it. For example, Nova cannot change the gravitation pull on a building enough to lift from the ground however she can leap great distances (or "fly") by altering her own gravity. * "Sixth Sense": (Developed) She has a knack for finding things, people included. There are times when Nova has to concentrate to find a particular object or person, but most times she can give a location within seconds of inquiry. The bigger the object, the easier to find. Moving objects require concentration but difficulty is still determined by size of requested object. * Dimension Bending: (Undeveloped) Used as a method of protection, Nova can bend the space around herself(or another) to become "untouchable". With an extremely short time limit of one mintue(at best), attacks appear to veer around the protected object. What's actually happened is the object has entered a pocket dimension, whose creation has caused a disturbance on the plane it originated from. Attacks slide along the same space as intended, however the space it should be inhabiting has been shifted around the object in question. Paired with an extremely short time limit, this ability causes great strain on the wielder's mental and physical state. Use of this ability by a weaker wielder can result in serious injury or coma. Weapon: Scythe</s> <|message|>Nova Blake Nova glanced back up the trail at Olivier, who had managed to get a good few feet away while they had been walking. "Afraid I'll et lost?" She grinned and laughed, jogging a few steps to close the distance before slowing back down to a slower pace again. As the Fire Wielder approached from behind, Nova turned her head and shot him a pouting glare, a look not much unlike that of a child who had found out they'd been lied to. She couldn't go as far as to say that she hated the boy, she was mature enough to steer away from such childish feelings, but Lao had seriously upset her and she was not about to forget him. "He seems perfectly capable of surviving this jungle challenge on his own. Does he have to follow us?" She growled, purposely addressing everyone else besides him while staring him down. She truly wanted to travel with allies, she had never had any before and it was exciting to her... But she didn't know how far she could go being followed by someone so mean. Thinking on it, with the amount of energy expelled during his attack, he might have to rest for part of the night, something she knew she wasn't going to do. I can wait until then. When he stops, I'll leave him behind." She thought to herself, turning her gaze to the path up ahead of them, actively searching for traps set out by other students.</s> <|message|>Olivier "The Contractor" Chian So Rhea was not really that much of an extremist. Sigh. When push came to shove, people forgot all about things such as compassion for the dead. Not that Olivier thought that was a bad thing. "The genetic mechanism for wielding is a very complicated and long-winded subject, I do not believe we could exhaust it here, and it might be more distracting than anything. I will tell you about the gloves, however." As he said that, he met her gaze, and it seemed like the girl was measuring him up. How funny. Olivier had never relied on charm before, but, thinking about it now, it was a tool in his arsenal. Mmmno... too cringe worthy... he won't go there. "When you wield, there is a constant feedback loop between your body and the environment. It just so happens, because of the multitude of gateways and ki vertices in your palms, that that is the place hardest to control the incoming flow from. In other words, your palms absorb much more energy than needed, in an erratic fashion. When trying to wield, that is, pull at energy with your willpower without a glove, if the technique you're using is very advanced, you run the risk of changing energy while it is in flux within your body, simply because you don't know it's there. This backlash can completely wreck both your nervous system and your ki pathways." Olivier glanced back for a second, to ensure that Nova was keeping pace. When she assured him that she won't get too far away with a rhetorical, she resumed his explanations. "This is why we have the gloves. Each emblem has a different core, which absorbs ambient energy while we are wielding so as to ensure we don't accidentally wield what is within our bodies. For a lightning wielder, if I remember correctly, the core should be a highly purified natural magnetic stone. For a dark wielder, the core is river amber with a perfectly preserved insect inside - enough so that its soul is trapped therein. They are literally weakening us to make us easier to control. As for how we came about this discovery, it wasn't death by wielding per se, but everyday, mundane death. For thousands of years, our physicians have been chopping off the freshly deceased to better understand how the human body works, and that gave us the mapping of our ki pathways." Everything Olivier said was true, if slightly incomplete, due to the time constraints. Turning back once more, he saw the idiotic flame wielder, the little girl and the water wielder making their way from behind. Nova expressed her annoyance at this, and he was feeling in kind. Rhiannon seemed strong enough to keep an eye on him, even though Olivier still thought it would've been much more efficient if he just made a contract to be absolutely sure that no shady business was taking place. But, whatever, the others wouldn't let him for some unknown reason (maybe they really had a death wish) so the point was moot. "We will not befriend each other. But alas, I'm not going to strike you down where you're standing. But don't forget, Lao." Saying that, Olivier raised his open, gloveless left palm, making a ball of brilliant black fire appear within it. "One more foolish act and you'll have more to worry about than lack of legs." Of course, Olivier couldn't actually wield black fire. He was wielding regular fire and then applying dark wielding to the color to make it look legitimate (kind of like food coloring). But whatever he had at hand to avoid a future needless conflict, he'd use. The flame went out as quickly as it was conjured.</s> <|message|>Rhiannon Jones Rhiannon suspected that the group was not okay with bringing Lao along and cursed her sentimentality; how had she forgotten that the boy had actually tried to burn them to a crisp? Of course, they had all lived through the attack with nary a scratch and yes he may have been misguided in enacting his class irritation but that hardly changed the facts. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, weighing up whether in actual fact it would be more beneficial to decamp at night with the others and leave him behind. She knew no one else would trust him and they would make no headway if they were constantly expecting a fireball to the back. Still, for now at least they needed to act as a group. The first hours would be the most dangerous, with the highest chance of encountering another student in the jungle. Once they had spread out it would become far more unlikely to end up in a pitched fight; the hot heads would have wiped each other out and only those focused on the end goal of passing the test would win. A thought suddenly occurred to her and she glanced at the group again, chewing her lip before speaking. "I know this is a bit out of left field but... what if this test is evaluated on how long it took us to get out of the jungle? Maybe the headmaster simply encouraged the in-fighting to weed out those unsuitable for the Academy in the early stages and there's no fixed number of potential applicants? He only ever mentioned a time limit as the criteria for this test." Rhiannon was largely musing out loud now, speaking slowly as she worked her way to a relevant conclusion while thoughts buzzed around her head and she attempted to select the relevant ones. "I... think what I'm trying to say is that we're clearly not going to work as a group. Most of us want to tie up and leave Fireboy - I mean Lao - here. It certainly lowers all our chances of beating that time limit if we're all expecting a fireball in the back at any moment. I know you promised not to but, no offence, I don't know you at all besides the recent events and that's not much to go on." She looked to the others and spread her hands, shrugging. "So I think a compromise is in order? The larger our group, the less chance we'll be distracted or interrupted by any of the idiotic hot-heads - sorry Lao - lashing out at everyone simply because they were allowed to. They'll all kill each other off by the end of the first day while those remaining will either be the strong ones or people who are more intent on passing this test than testing out their powers." She licked her lips nervously as she came to the crux of the matter. "...So in the end, the best solution for us is to travel as this group until nightfall. We can then re-evaluate the situation and see whether it is worth continuing as we are or splitting up if the large part of the danger has passed. I believe that's probably the best strategy... for all of us." Then the redhead stopped speaking and looked down at the ground, shuffling her feet. "Unless... anyone else had thought of something else?"</s> <|message|>Adeen Lily (of) Eithrear Adeen looked around in surprise as the fire around her disappeared. So far, Lao was the only other person she'd seen do that. The other person was herself, of course. Adeen ducked under his arm and stared at him expectantly. She frowned when the man gave his conditions though. She had no problem just following what he asked for - he was teaching her how to make pretty fire after all - but that last one . . . She closed her eyes as they walked and her face scrunched up in frustration as she kept thinking. "Uueh . . . I wanna learn how to make that pretty fire but . . . Mama told me that I should never call anyone Master," she said. "Mama said since imma pwincess - I mean, since I'm a princess - I shouldn't call anyone Master. But that fire is sooooo pretty!" As Adeen was having this little internal debate, gout's of flame sparked into life around her. "Mmn . . . it's so hard to decide! Ah whatever! I'll keep thinking later!" With that, she gave up. Thinking was never her strong suit anyway. Just as she was about to ask Lao more questions, something else caught her eye: Olivier s (Fake) Black Flame. Once again, there were sparkles in her eyes. "Woah~ more pwetty flames!" in her excitement, she didn't even bother correcting her lisp. "How are you all making those pretty fiahs~?! I only know how to make them have shapes and stuff." To demonstrate, Adeen spread her arms like a bird taking flight, and four copies of Adeen made of fire appeared, two per side. The real Adeen, after doing so, giggled and started playing around with her conjured clones, her attention diverted to her clones, who started creating copies of themselves as well. In about ten seconds there were several flaming Adeens who were throwing fire balls at each other, running into each other and causing small explosions, and in general just setting things on fire wherever they stepped. The real Adeen, who was sweating slightly because of excess playing, trotted up to Lao and the others. "Uh, wait, I forgot to ask something! Why did we go into the jungwle? I heard somethin' bout a test and stuff. Is the test going to be in the Academy? I didn't study or anything!" In the background, her clones began playing around everywhere. That was sure to attract attention.</s>
<|message|>Nova Blake Nova's head perked up when she heard the kid behind her speaking, at first astonished at the age of the girl but further surprised at her ignorance. Turning her head to look at the child, Nova smiled kindly and motioned for her to venture closer. "Did you space out during the Headmaster's speech too?" She laughed lightly to signal that she was guilty of the same offense. "I certainly hope there isn't a written portion of the entrance exam, I didn't study either. But as far as I know, this is it. Our test is to make it to the other side of this jungle alive and within the time limit given." Nova herself wasn't entirely sure on the workings of the entrance exams for this particular school, but she figured taking things a step at a time would be more beneficial than worrying about the future. Out of the corner of her eye, Nova watched the flame clones play around. How the girl's energy wasn't being zapped by such a display was a mystery to her, but Nova knew that they couldn't keep it up forever before something went wrong. She stopped walking and pivoted to face the beings of fire, exhaling slowly as she concentrated. Nova swiped her hand through the air in front of her, feeling the ripple travel through the clones, disrupting their structure and causing them to fall to the ground as smoldering embers. It wasn't a difficult move for her, considering her target wasn't all that dense, but it drew more energy from her than she had originally wanted to spend. "You should be more mindful of your flames, they'll attract the attentions of unwanted wielders." She sighed before pivoting on her toes, following after the group she had fallen behind.</s>
<|description|>Cyrdic Becker Gender: M Age: 26 Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier Weapons: * Basket Hilted Broadsword * Imperial Dagger * Norscan round Shield (Took from his first felled enemy) * Aged Pistol Physical Description Cyrdic is tall and lean, but solidly built, standing an inch over 6 feet in height. His eyes are reminiscent of shaped wrought iron. His face is ruddy and echoes a youthful appearance, though battles and training had roughed him into the look of a mature soldier. He has quite the rugged quality about him. Two scars mar his face. One parallel to the bottom of his left eye, and another scraping across his right jawline. His legs are long and his his facial hair is only a coarse, 5'oclock shadow thanks to his knife. He's clad in fine and tough leather over a chainmail hauberk, with sturdy traveling shoes and a worn belt. Mental Description/Personality: Cyrdic isn't a fool. He spent a year apprenticed to a Quartermaster (as punishment for recklessness) and learned how to read and write (to a degree). The best way to describe him would be a hardened, rough soldier at the brink of his youth. He'll use what he can in his disposal to win, though half the time it turns out he'll need to fuck someone up anyway. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his determination to survive. He's not tactically intelligent, but he has a sense of how battlefields shift and can command smaller troops with his powerful voice. He tends to have a take-no-shit (unless it's from a superior officer) lookout on life. He's amiable to certain people however, and will have a dry wit around those he enjoys (or to people he wishes he could be more honest with). While fighting and killing and marching has been his entire life, he's not particularly fond of being thrust into impossible situations and doesn't lack a healthy sense of self preservation. He's gotten quite tired of working for corrupt officers. He's a devout Sigmarite thanks to his upbringing, and has a hammer chained necklace upon his breast to signify this.</s> <|message|>Cyrdic Becker Amal watched Greta leave, though she gave the room one last look before closing the door behind her as if she expected mischief. 'She had no idea' was the phrase that came to mind, though Amal had nothing truly planned at the moment. Rather he merely wished to enjoy the moment. By the time the door closed, the next second the carpet was draped over the settee and Emmaline had already been scooped off her feet. She squeaked and Amal chuckled, holding her close in his arms. "Well, we took a scenic route northwards. But we made it, Spring of my Heart." He declared. Even after all of their travels, he felt as if they had just began seeing one another. They kissed for a lingering moment, before he marched over to the mirror with her still in his arms. He smiled when she saw their reflection, clear delight on her face. "So, shall we stay here a few weeks? I don't know the country, but as long as no one tries to force us into servitude and we don't get hands chopped off for minor things, I think it is a fine vacation spot." Emmaline's snake slithered off of her leg, having curled up around her thigh for the journey. It grooved off of her and nestled close to the unlit fireplace, gilding itself once more. It likely sensed Emmaline and Amal were once again getting rather physical with one another. But there was a knock on the door, and after two quick moments Greta waltzed in with the wine and their hearty stews. She found Emmaline on the settee, hair somewhat wavy and wild from Amal's quick movements whereas the 'Arabyan Merchant' seemed to be admiring himself in the mirror. "The Oaks very finest!" She said, presenting the food only to have an incredulous look planted on her face a moment later. "Er, well..." She decided not to press the point, nor did she ask about the new snake circlet on the ground next to Amal's feet. "I hope you both enjoy. Where did you come from, again?" "A long way away-" Amal said. "Carroburg!" Emmaline piped in at the same time. Greta blinked, but decided they had no reason to lie. "That is quite a ways! You must tell me of your travels tomorrow once you're rested. Ok so enjoy, and do let us know if you need anything ok? Oh! V-Very well I'll see you both later." Amal had already begun ushering her out, the smell of food causing his stomach to rumble like Settra's wrath. "Thank you, and have a tip!" He called to her, flipping a full gold peice her way. She squealed and tried to catch it. Whether or not she did was lost on Amal as he'd already closed the door. "That smells almost as good as you look."</s> <|message|>Camilla de la Trantio "You don't look half bad yourself," Emmaline replied with a lascivious wink. She wondered if Greta were listening at the door but decided she didn't much care. A rumble from her midsection reminded her that it had been several days since she had eaten. In fact now that she thought about it, the last time had been on the Dark Elf corsair. She tore a chunk from the nearest loaf of bread and dunked it in her stew, wolfing it down without hesitation before taking a spoonful of the soup directly. It was hot and salty and wonderful and the both attacked the meal with vigour. The wine was excellent and chilled, probably in a cellar beneath the tavern though having drunk her share of palm wine and other less identifiable potable Emmaline found that her palate had expanded considerably. "Vacation…" she said around a mouthful of bread after they had slaked the worst of the hunger pangs. The idea had never really crossed her mind for so long her priority had been to go somewhere and do something, escape from the harem, find the city in the desert, deal with the endless series of maritime calamity, that they might every reach a place of safety and what they might do if they did had never really occurred to her. Now that she was thinking about it though it sounded wonderful. They had enough gold to live and live well for quite a while, months even at the exorbitant prices this place was charging and Emmaline was certain they could get about the same for much less if they looked around a little. Maybe they could even rent a villa if they tired of the city, once she found out how safe the area was at least. "I like the sound of that," Emmaline murmured, lounging back on the settee and enjoying the feeling of food, drink and Amal's company.</s> <|message|>Cyrdic Becker Amal practically inhaled the broth and bread, filling his stomach to his content. The Arabyan looked particularly dark and exotic wearing the white linen shirt he had bought. Rolled up sleeves, if she hadn't known him he would have looked like a foreign sailor having traveled inland to spend what wealth he had. He couldn't hide the small scars or the roving thief eyes, however. Even in their relative prosperity, he still thought of nabbing what he could. Old habits. Amal cleaned his chin with one of the cloths Greta had brought, and released it onto the table. Casually, he spun and gently laid his head on Emmaline's lap, legs hanging over the side of the settee. He wondered about the big cities of the Empire and where their vaults were held. Perhaps once they ran out of sums they could go to one of these capitals and steal from under the head northerner or whomever there was. But that was just his imagination. For now, they should enjoy where they were. "I like it as well. Of course, I'm sure danger will follow. I think we have that quality about us." He said wistfully, playing with her hair that now draped beside him. He still marveled at just how smitten he was with her. "It's sexy on you though, don't worry." He grinned viciously, the same grin he had before he made love to Emmaline or slashed the throat of someone who had wronged him. The former was far more likely, though someone could burst in at any moment he supposed and ruin their moment.</s> <|message|>Camilla de la Trantio Emmaline smiled a little self consciously. The need had been to find clothing before they attracted too much attention, in the Empire with Witch Hunters and Sigmar bothering priests that could have been a problem, but the stout workman's clothes did feel a bit like wearing a sack. Well in the morning she could take the time to look up a dress maker or a seamstress, or perhaps a pawn broker who already had such clothing from the wardrobe of some down on her luck burgess. "I certainly can't say life has been boring since I met you," she agreed, running her fingers through his dark hair. It seemed easier to imagine it all as an adventure in retrospect, now that the immediate threat of being sold back into slavery by murderous elves, or burned alive by skaven fire throwers seemed to have abated. Something tickled her from the half remembered time they had spent in the tomb city, like words that somehow evoked a long ago reading of a forgotten tome. Whatever else happened she didn't think they were likely to live out their days in idle luxury. A grin stole across Emmaline's face, breaking her sudden pensiveness like a sunrise burning away an albion fog. That didn't mean she didn't intend to try! Leaning down over amal so that her bosom strained against the coarse over shit she kissed him on the lips. Amal arched an eyebrow though he didn't seem willing to break the spell by speaking. "I was just thinking that I have been poor many times and rich only once, so I plan to make the most of it!"</s>
<|message|>Cyrdic Becker Amal smiled brightly, eyes glinting. "Yes, exactly!" He said, and shifted a bit on the settee. "Why can we not be rich? We deserve it more than those entitled fools..." He recalled just how cutthroat he was and cleared his throat. "Well, you do at least. I think I deserve it more than some. I might stab a man but I will not throw him into servitude." He realized he was thinking aloud rather than actually conversing. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Amal placed his strong hands behind his back and sat up, his thick hair a bit wild. He stretched, his strong arms prominently sculpted as he did so. Amal felt much better, after having eaten particularly. "But yes, we are rich, as weird as it is to say." He remarked, thinking back to his days in Al-Hiekk. Never in his life did he think he would have been in any such place as this as the owner (or renter). "There were times I would sneak into the palace and pretend I was rich. Forgetting for a moment who I was..." He shook the thoughts away. Instead, he turned and grinned, reaching for Emmaline and sliding her on his lap. She giggled and the thief slid her hair to the left so his chin could rest to the right of her neck. "But it doesn't matter. Now we are rich, yes?" His arms held her by her waist, though not before he grabbed one of the bottles of wine. Judging by the merchant's rumor, the wine made in Delberz was very good indeed. He uncorked it with a dexterous movement of his thumb, smooth as silk. He took a swig of the bottle, feeling the sweetness of the liquid on his tongue and feeling the tingle of it sliding down his throat. The thief thought it was actually quite good, handing it to Emmaline next to enjoy. Pulling her closer, he kissed her neck. "What would the wealthy Emmaline like to do?" He asked, and kissed her neck once more. "We could go and see the town below...see what it has to offer...or perhaps we could make use of those silk sheets? I simply wish to be with you, my troublemaker." His pet name for her did not sound too out of place in Riekspiel.</s>
<|description|>Jennifer "JJ" Jureau Gender: Female Age: 25 Place of Birth: New York City Sexuality: Heterosexual, although she won't discriminate on any given night if the opportunity arises. Relationship Status: Single Occupation: Real estate Power: Healing Cost of power's use: Even though JJ can heal anyone with a simple touch, she herself will slowly absorb whatever wound or illness that person has suffered. The longer she holds on, the more severe the affliction. Appearance: JJ stands at about 5'7, with naturally tanned skin and brown eyes. She has dark brown hair that's naturally curly but most of the time she will keep it straight for a neater appearance. She has no major scars or tattoos. Skills: Good at both sprinting and long-distance running. She also has some self defence skills which she learned during her teenage years. Personality: JJ is a bit of a hot head. She has a condition known as Adjustment Disorder and her mood shifts rather quickly, sometimes leading her to blow a situation out of proportion. She is impatient and often blames everyone but herself for whatever misfortune comes her way, finding excuses where there should be none. JJ despises liars, and she often treats such people with no respect at all. On the flip side, she is for the most part a rational and fair individual and will always favor whatever side she believes is right, despite of personal differences. History: JJ's birth name is Jennifer Marie LaCosta, although family issues prompted her mother to take sole custody of JJ and change her name in the process. For a few years, JJ was raised in a single-parent household on the bad side of town. Many different experiences made JJ realize what the real world was like, and the older she grew, the wiser she became. When JJ was 14, her mother, Nancy, married some real estate millionaire named Richard after only a few weeks of dating. In a matter of days they moved to Buckhead, and as far as JJ could tell, they were a match made to last. Unfortunately, 6 months into the marriage, Richard began to make passes as JJ. Even though JJ would complain to just about any adult she came into contact with, no one ever believed her because she was just some "bratty rich kid seeking attention". Richard's comments soon became action, and it was only a matter of time before JJ ran away from home to get away from it all. A couple of years of court cases, media coverage, and public opinions tore the family in half. Although Richard was a smart man, one slip up was all the evidence the prosecution needed to put him behind bars. Nancy inherited the mansion and had the business Richard left behind undergo a complete makeover,. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. JJ was forever scarred and to any stranger on the street, she would appear to be another woman with a sour attitude who was out for revenge. For some time, JJ found happiness as she was introduced to a world famous psychologist and his therapy was finally the answer she was so desperately seeking for many years. She found a boyfriend, moved to high-rise in downtown, helped her mother with the business, and was even trying to have a family of her own. Her happiness didn't last though. One rainy December evening claimed Nancy's life after she was involved in an accident. It was then JJ's world shattered all over again. She abandoned just about everything good in her life and went back to her old ways. Although she barely kept the business afloat with the help of a senior employee, her alcohol and drugs frenzy made it very hard for her to focus. She now attends more parties and gatherings than business meetings, and some have speculated one of these days JJ will crash and burn.</s> <|message|>Nathan James Hunter Nate held his eyes shut tight as JJ spoke to him. The knowledge that Vin was up to something potentially stupid made his head hurt more. He was confident Michaels would find him though. There was little he could do right now anyway. Instead, he struggled to push himself up off the ground. His body ached and he winced in pain at the effort, only managing to get to a sitting position. He wrapped an arm around his ribs and informed JJ "Don't worry about Vincent. He'll be back in a minute...So how's your day going?" His tone was casual and friendly as though he were having a conversation over the kitchen table with an old friend rather than in a jail cell. He didn't have time to hear JJ's likely scathing response as Michaels was quickly back, shoving Vin towards a cell. As they talked, Nate pulled himself up and strolled towards the cell door. With Vin back in his cell, Michaels made his way back over towards Nate. He stopped in front of the cell in said in a hushed tone "The bag's under the desk in the next room. My guys will look the other way but not everyone. I don't have that much pull around here so make it quick. You'll have five minutes at most." Nate bobbed his head up and down and said "I can deal with that." "I expect that file as soon as possible, Hunter." Michaels informed Nate. "Or I swear to god, I will hunt you down myself and there will be no getting out next time." Nate made a "psshhh" sound with his teeth and responded "I get it Michaels...Kiss goodbye?" Michaels only reached through the bars and grabbed Nate by the shirt before yanking him forwards, causing his face to slam into a bar. "Don't forget what I said, asshole." Nate stumbled backwards, holding his nose as Michaels headed for the door, yelling over his shoulder "I'll be back to question you clowns in a minute. Don't go anywhere." Nate ran his tongue along his teeth to make sure they were all still there. Satisfied that his smile was still intact, he flashed it at JJ and Vin and informed them "He loves me really. He's just gotta make it look good for the camera." He then reached into his pocket where Michaels had fondled him a moment ago and pulled out a key, holding it up to chest height to show the others. "So, who's for a jailbreak?" Reaching through the bars, he stuck the key in the cell lock and unlocked the door with an ease that suggested he had done it before. He quickly stepped out and had JJ's cell open just as easily. He didn't go in to check on the obviously in pain JJ. Instead he moved down the row of cells and unlocked Vin's door, saying to the other man with a smile "Admit it. You missed me."</s> <|message|>Vincent "Vin" TreVayne "Wow." Vin mumbled under his breath, watching the maniac Detective go off on Nate as though he were reprimanding a small child. Apparently Nate and Michaels had more of a past than he thought, and what the Detective said earlier about him started to make more sense. But it didn't matter, since Nate was needed regardless, and the Detective was out the door before anymore could be said. Nate, not wasting any time, was out of his cage and standing in front of Vin's unlocked cell door with his typical "look at me suckas!" grin across his face. "Yeah, yeah...you're missed, but no kisses right now, bro." Vincent said, patting him on the shoulder as he hurried by and slipped into the cell where Jennifer was, kneeling down at her side to help her sit up. "Are you okay? I swear I thought you were a hell of an actor back there…" He said, trying to fake a smile. "But it turns out something did happen, didn't it? Was it the headaches again?" Vin remembered the first time Jennifer had helped him, and she paid a heavy price in the form of terrible migraines that probably felt just as bad as when they'd manifested through his curse. Every violent action that those damned things take feels like it takes a piece of him with it. "Some powers, eh?" He said with a grin, looking into her weary, yet beautifully perfected eyes. Zero</s> <|message|>Jennifer "JJ" Jureau "Yeah, it was one of those headaches...but I'm not sure what happened. I haven't come into contact with anyone, much less absorb their injuries..." Jennifer trailed off, sighing at the possibilities of what it all meant for her. "I don't want to get these headaches for the rest of my life, Vin, I'm scared. I really am." She gave him a helpless look before dusting off her hands, walking out of the cell with Vin following closely behind her. "So, pretty boy," she turned to Nate, that smirk of his still present on his face, "care to guide us out of this hellhole? Oh, and remind me to buy your cop friend a drink for busting us out one of the nights." Jennifer turned to Vin, extending her hand out for him to grab while motioning towards the door. Zero</s> <|message|>Nathan James Hunter Nate rolled his eyes while watching Vin and JJ. Leaning a shoulder against the cell door, he watched Vin fawn over JJ and wondered if she knew how smitten the poor schmuck was with her. It would almost be adorable if they weren't under a time constraint. He was glad when JJ turned to him and asked to be led out. He brightened up then, standing up straight and rubbing his hands together. "Not only do I care to," he replied to her question. "It would be my honor." His smile only grew as he headed for the door, as though breaking out of police custody with the threat of violence and possible death looming over his shoulder was somehow fun. To a normal person, it wouldn't be. But Nate was far from normal and he seemed to thrive on adrenaline. It probably wasn't a healthy way to live but neither was eating bacon double cheeseburgers and millions of people did that every day. Poking his head through the door to make sure there was no one around, Nate ushered the others into the next room while the coast was clear. He ducked behind a desk and quickly reappeared, dumping a large duffel bag on top of the desk. The bag contained their belongings, minus Nate's small arsenal of handguns and explosives. Apparently Michaels didn't like the idea of a maniac like Nate running around with a bag full of guns. Also in the bag were some police uniforms, one of which Nate pulled out and tossed to Vin. "Put this on." he informed him. He shifted his attention then to JJ and said "Now, Jennifer. There's a uniform in here for you too. But, personally, I think you'd be more suited to the role of trashy call girl." He pulled a set of cuffs from the bag and dangled them on his finger. "I mean you pulled it off so well the last time."</s> <|message|>Vincent "Vin" TreVayne There it was. Jennifer's hand reaching out for Vincent to grab it, and yet for a split second there was hesitation. He was afraid of touching her, considering the havoc she had to endure the last time their hands met, but maybe this was different. His powers, or whatever they were, seemed to be in some kind of hibernation and what was replaced was more a calmness of mind. The creatures within weren't restless, trying to break themselves free of their host, nor were the nightmarish visions filling his head with nonsense. For all intends and purposes, he felt normal for the first time in the last couple of days, and for once he had hoped there was an end to all of this madness. Vin smiled as he took hold of Jennifer's hand, which felt cold to the touch, and he wrapped his hand tighter hoping to take away the chill. He looked over at Nate, who was leading them all into another room, and Vin couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive for allowing their lives to be in this kid's charge. Nate seemed to live his life as though he had an infinite number, and maybe in a way he did, but why did he feel the need to put others in the same line of fire that he unquestionably dives head first into? Michaels words resonated with Vin stronger than he thought they would, and he hoped that the detective was wrong about their mutual acquaintance. "Really? We're supposed to play dress up now?" Vincent scoffed at the idea as he held the bundle of clothes that would be used as his disguise, but shrugged, realizing that these were in fact desperate times. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and replaced it with the standard black ATL PD uniform top, which was a terrible fit, and continued on with the remaining clothes. "Nate, c'mon bro...enough with the handcuffs." He scolded Nate for even entertaining the idea of Jennifer posing as a prostitute. "Give her a break, alright?" Zero</s>
<|message|>Jennifer "JJ" Jureau "Hmm..." Jennifer grabbed the handcuffs Nate had taken out of the bag, seemingly contemplating his offer before shaking her head. "Nah, I've retired that role. I know, you're heart-broken." She turned away from Nate, giving Vin a quick wink before searching the bag for the gear she'd need to impersonate an officer. She pulled out the only uniform shirt and matching pair of pants left. "Yeah, this'll be fun..." Jennifer took off her shoes, but kept the rest of her clothes on as she put the uniform over them. Luckily, everything fit her okay. She buttoned up the shirt and tucked it into her pants before grabbing the pair of black boots. "I've always wondered what it's like having this much power. I guess we'll find out." Once she was set, Jennifer put her shoes in the bag and zipped it shut. "Alright, let's see how far we can get before we're caught." She wasn't being completely serious, but Jennifer knew that this was a very risky move, even for the trio that always managed to get out of a sticky situation. Zero</s>
<|description|>art by John Thacker THE CAST --- Kelari Halder Blin "Brytag" Alborse Rahna Altema Lee Silvertongue Eli Wyn Forrest Everfree Gaius Stronurr Braum Jormungandr Thema Absher Blank Aurora Philman Tivo Sol Sera Nikkolaira "Nikki" Wyatt</s> <|message|>Blank If he hadn't been busy running for his life, Blank would have buried his face in his hands. "The plan," he said with exasperation, "was for me to distract this thing while you and the others run and hide, so I could meet up with you later. You chasing after me is exactly the opposite of what you were supposed to do, and now it's too late for you to go back." He stopped for a moment to find and launch another rock at the creature, making sure it didn't lose interest in him. Even if Nikki was following him, the other two could still find safety. "There's almost no chance I can fight this thing." He said as he started running again. "It flies Nikki, and I don't have a bow with me. If it landed, I might have a chance, but it doesn't need to be anywhere near me to kill me. In an ideal world, this thing is powerful but stupid, and won't realize that. More likely my best chance to escape it was being alone." He stayed silent for a while then, focusing on the ground in front of him and trying to think of a new plan. "Just keep running," he said eventually. "Once we lead it away from Sera and Blin, it might eventually decide to find easier prey."</s> <|message|>Gaius Stronurr (Straw-Neeur) Gaius Stronurr The Forest Floor Like a jackhammer, the swell of energy shattered the cement in Gaius' veins and he steeled the creature's powerful assault. "Hrrg!" Gaius grunted, keeping his feet planted in the ground with relative ease. Where the hell did this power come from? Something whizzed by his sight, between him and the attacking monstrosity. Again! A trail of golden light followed it as it passed. What the hell was it? No matter, there were more pressing matters at hand. Gaius flung the giant creature off, and stepped back twice, reaching for his sword. He was surprised that it didn't fall from its sheath in his armor as he fell. With one hand, he flung the hilt up, and grabbed the blade half-way along its tremendous length. Upon pulling it from its housing, he quickly positioned both hands around the hilt and wielded it with a mighty stance. "Whoa-ho-ho!" Gaius chanted, thoroughly impressed by his own feat of endurance. The little fairy-like light creature that gramted Gaius his new-found power buzzed into view and looked at him with its beady little eyes. A little dragon?? "Would you look at that!" Gaius shouted. "Thanks, bud!" the little dragon squeaked happily and flew around him in circles, before hovering quietly behind his left shoulder. "Right, you've a date with some steel, bone-head," Gaius assured the intruder, lunging forward as soon as he was ready, and slashing length-wise at its collar-bone with his massive weapon.</s> <|message|>Eli Wyn Eli Wyn The Chimes? Eli didn't have a clue what Sir Shroom was talking about and his expression made that much known. A couple of important questions popped into his head: what or who were the Chimes? Why would they get eaten? What's with the little ball becoming a furry ball on his arm? A talking shroom? And did the talking shroom just call him stupid?! As the Shroom asked a question, Eli heard the sound of clattering wood. "Are those The Chimes? He mumbled to himself as his gaze shifted from the Shroom to the girl. Back and forth. If something was coming, something enough to scare the Shroom to its roots, then to hide would indeed be the best option. Besides, Eli didn't feel a whole lot of hostility coming from the Shroom itself. Then - it appeared. In a swift motion, a shadow swept a random light and devoured it, putting an end to its glow. That in itself wasn't a nice sight, especially considering it was a... "A freaking hollow eyed monster!" But as Eli didn't know how the food chain worked here on the surface, he for a second thought that maybe, just maybe, it was a normal occurrence and the whatever that thing was would fly away. Really really fast. As it looked directly at Eli, or at least at the glow on his shoulder, he thought it would've definitely been a good course of action to hide beforehand. Now, however, it was a tad bit too late. "Oh no no no no, you ain't gonna eat my-" Eli tried to say, but as the thing rushed towards him, he had no other choice but to jump to the side. Far enough to avoid the outstretched claws of the monstrosity. "Rude." Not having the time to think things through, but certainly realizing there was no real way for them to fight the monster. He didn't have any weapon on him, not even something that could've been improvised as a weapon and as far as he knew, neither did Thema. Luckily, the monster was so far focused solely on him. Or his ball at least. "Hey," Eli whispered to the girl, "How about I distract this thing and you take Sir Shroom and get away from here? Unless you want to take this thing down. I'm down for that, just say the word, we... Islanders can do great things when we combine our strengths. What was the name for that? Ah, yes, synergy!"</s> <|message|>Sera Sera stared at the bird creature quite dumbfounded as it hopped from tree to tree trying to follow Wolf-Dude. "No fair! I wanted to pierce its heart!", she cried out at the injustice of the whole situation. She pouted and raced after the fleeing boy, the halberd swinging with her steps. "Oi! Leave some for me, will ya!" The rush of combat hormones into her system absolutely drove her over the edge of combat eagerness. Now, the girl was, while only on the lower end of the spectrum, lusting after the blood of the creature who tried to murder them a couple of times now.</s> <|message|>Blin "Brytag" Alborse (Brytag being an awesome sounding heroic name) Blin "Brytag" Alborse The girl was as crazy as Nikki, they certainly seemed to be made from the same mold. Were all girls like this? he wondered to himself. No time for that now, he really needed time to sort through his glider and reclaim whatevre gear had survived, and the only way to do that was to get rid of the bone flying monster. Blin gripped his makeshift staff, turned it the other way up as that end had a wicked splintered spike on it. "Bad idea." he said with a sigh of exasperation at her forwardness, he followed holding his staff defensiveky.</s>
<|message|>art by John Thacker The wormeater spread its coarse spotted wings and stood tall, its hollow eyes locked on the trailing squad of armed islanders. Bones rattled angrily at its throat, and the clatter of it resounded in the quieted forest. Running in this untamed forest was not an easy thing. There were no paths, very few clearings, and walls of enormous plants, webs of thick straggled vines, stones and upturned roots and broken ground, and massive violet flowers that stank like sap and honey. All around was bright green and shadows and twists of white trunks. Blank and Nikki -- at the head of the fleeing islanders -- rushed by a tall boulder that was twisting and shifting; it lifted in the air just as Blin and Sera made it past. Another huge rock, to the right this time, yanked itself out of the ground as the islanders approached. Pebbles hovered over the ground at their feet. High above, over the tops of the trees, the pale deathly bird soared. It tracked their movements, clattering, raising stones to impede their progress. A rain of pebbles shot after Sera and Blin, fast enough to cause real damage to their skin and bones. At this moment, the ghostly glowing shape at Sera's back lighted on her shoulder; it spread its wide wings with a snap, and a shock of bright fire blinded them. The pebbles struck the fiery barrier and melted at once, leaving Blin and Sera unharmed. A bit of the plantlife around them smoked and glowed, singed by the flames of the birdlike creature that now clung to Sera's shoulder, but Sera and Blin could not be burned. The sinewy ghost around Blin's neck was less translucent now -- and as it gained corporeal form, its scales and spines seemed familiar. Its intelligent eyes stared up through the trees at the creature pursuing them -- and Blin would know, instinctively, that the bony bird above had swallowed a sword that belonged to him. Ahead of Blank and Nikki -- among the rising stones that perpetually threatened their treacherous path -- something bright and manmade flashed between the leaves. Another grounded glider? A great boulder zoomed past them, crashing ahead through the trees, raining down broken twigs and leaves in its wake. The forest here was warm and quiet; the trees rustled overhead, and great green leaves hung like curtains all around. Just behind those leaves, something smooth and dark sat covered in lichen and vines. A statue -- carved out of black stone a millennia ago -- sat proudly atop a crumbling pedestal. The statue depicted a tall bird like a heron, with its bones exposed and a skull-like head. It clutched a smooth ball in one clawed foot, and a curved sword in the other. Beside the mossy statue were the decrepit and overgrown remains of a wide staircase, carved into the side of a forested hill. The crumbled stairs disappeared into the shadows and plantlife above, destroyed by vines and roots and time. The dense energy pressed on Kelari's skull and wrapped like tendrils around her limbs, pressing in, trapping her, as the sunlight glimmered merrily above. One of the floating balls of light drifted and spun over her head, and then lighted gently on the back of her hand. Its glow brightened and swelled, and Kelari would feel the constricting tendrils leaving her, sucked into the growing energy of the light-ball. Relief flooded her chest, and her head was eased of pain. A new sensation -- a chill, like ice -- drew invisible patterns up her arm, but it was not an unpleasant feeling. Her breath billowed in a frozen cloud with each exhale. Not so distantly behind her, something rumbled and flashed; it looked like firelight that suddenly exploded behind the trees, then was gone. Occasionally she heard something crash, like falling boulders -- and if she strained, she might hear the shout of human voices. In the moment Gaius raised his sword, the bird's enormous wings snapped wide. All around Gaius, stones and boulders suddenly wrenched themselves out of the ground and floated, suspended in the air. But the bird's attack came too late. Gaius' sword snapped cleanly through bone, shattering the monster in two. The rocks and stones all dropped at once, clattering and crashing to the ground. The bird's bony head fell backward; its wings collapsed and shed loose spotted feathers on the breeze. Broken and splintered hollow bones rattled down in an unformed heap in the grass. Something silver glittered among the bones -- something that had been at the monster's core. It appeared to be a pocket watch on a thin chain, etched with tiny ornate symbols -- but upon opening the cover by a pressed switch, one would find instead a compass that pointed northwest, and a message inscribed inside the cover: North shall hold sentinel and West shall freeze the night; East shall burn the darkness and South shall guide our flight Something boomed in the distance -- to the east, according to the compass. There was a crash and a rumble, and a flash of light like fire. Human voices shouted, distant on the breeze. There was no time for planning. The birdlike monster flicked its great wings open, displaying rows of spotted coarse feathers and a chest made of bone and dark. The rocks and stones at Eli's feet trembled and began to rise into the air, and the mushroom squeaked in fright -- but what happened next was entirely unexpected. CRASH FWOOM BOOM! An emormous boulder shot through the trees like a cannonball from behind Eli, exploding through splinters of branches and a rain of ripped leaves. It narrowly missed Eli, crashed into the ground and skidded a long deep track straight for the bird-monster, which flapped and fluttered out of the way just in the nick of time. The boulder cracked into the thick trunk of a tree and came to an immediate stop. A second bird-monster swooped down from above and lighted on the boulder. It turned to face the direction from which the boulder had come, and it waited, watching the shadows between the trees. Within a moment, Blank and Nikki emerged into the clearing, followed closely by Blin and Sera. The two bony bird-monsters stood at opposite sides of the clearing ahead of them, blocking their path. "The cavalry's here!" the little mushroom-man shrieked from within the bag -- and it was unclear whether he meant the arrival of the other islanders, or the team of Chimes that now threatened their escape.</s>
<|description|>Maggy Alias: None Age: 25 Gender: Female Species: Dragon human hybrid. Appearance: Maggy has developed a human disguise using her slight magical ability. She has long pink hair that goes down to her waist, her face has a half mask on it that covers what would be a violet eye. The other eye is a faint red, this eye remains uncovered because it doesn't normally glow, and when it does she'll most likely drop her disguise anyway. If you were to strip away all her clothes, her cape would still remain, this is because the cape itself is actually just her wings in disguise. She stands a rather tall 6'3 and weighs about 260lbs, this is the same as her hybrid form. She is clearly pear shaped having very large hips, but this is normally hidden under her big frilly skirt. This isn't to say she doesn't have a nice chest... But that butt tho. This form is Maggy's true from. It shares the same body type as her disguised form, having the THICC large hips and respectable chest. Along with her red and violet eyes, those are the only features that her disguise didn't alter. Her hair isn't pink or long, but is actually short and purple, hair isn't the only thing on her head as she sports a pair of horns. The left horn being a beautiful gold and the right horn being a deep purple. Her skin is a pale purple having plated sections along her legs, bust, arms and wing arms. Oh yeah, she has massive clawed wing arms. These wing-arms boast an impressive set of claws that can be used to grasp objects or inflict deep wounds, they are often clamped to her shoulders making them look like a cape. She is the same height and weight as her disguised form. She can turn into a dragon. She's big, she's mean, she's a fucking dragon. Length: 21 meters Height: 5.5 meters feet Weight: 22.7 tonnes. Personality: Maggy is an odd one. Most people would call her crazy or insane, this isn't far from the truth in all honesty. She maintains a level head for the majority of the time, but cannot always keep up this persona. She is very quick to change emotion, one moment being sad and then she's skipping on rainbows the next. Fortunately people get visual indicators on her emotional status. When angered she changes vastly, often not bothering to keep a level head and just attacking whatever the problem is. This is when her sadism starts to show, things like comments on how your screams will be the highlight of her week, or going into detail on how she's going to defile you eye cavity. She is fairly quick to anger, it's made fairly clear by her red eye glowing. If she's like this for long enough her entire personality will change, and it's not a pretty sight. She'll become an absolute asshole, getting angry at pretty much everything. She'll stay in this enraged state for a good while before returning to normal. Another emotion that shows on her visibly is happiness, she is highly excitable at most times. When she gets excited her violet eye will glow, she tends to hide her violet eye because of how frequently it glows. Her violet eye also glows when she's aroused, an additional reason she prefers to keep this particular eye hidden. When she gets super excited or turned on the undersides of her wings will start to glow a bright violet, mimicking her eyes. When she gets to this point she's acts more like a jovial child, or someone who's just been hit with some of the strongest aphrodisiacs know to science. Her personality basically vanishes when she goes into her dragon form. She is a creature of pure aggression and hate at that point. Most of the time the only way to revert her back to her hybrid form is to knock her out, that or remove everything that could be perceived as a threat and let the beast calm down. Power: Maggy has a wide verity of powers, many of which she doesn't know how to properly use. Hybrid form powers Dragons strength: Maggy is much stronger than your average human, her regular arms being able to lift roughly 7 tonnes, but her extra set of wing arms are far more powerful being able to lift three times as much. She struggles to limit herself when doing physical activities often damaging things on accident. Dragons hide: Maggy is a tough nut to crack, able to ignore most conventional melee attacks, things like knifes and hammers would break before managing to inflict any damage to Maggy's skin. Firearms will still penetrate her skin, but will probably not inflict very damaging wounds unless targeted at weak points like the eyes. Magical disguise: Maggy is able to disguise herself or others with very believable disguises. But when she looses focus theses disguises fade away. Magical blasts: Maggy can conjure up crude blasts of purple energy, they are relatively weak not dealing that much damage. They mainly just push over opponents or apply light burns. They travel fairly slowly for a projectile attack, and those who have good reflexes could avoid them fairly easily. Wings and claws: Maggy's wing arms are armed with ferocious claws that can tear through metal, this coupled with her strength makes them very dangerous. And they may be wing arms, but she can't actually fly properly with them, instead she can glide short distances or slow herself down if she's falling allowing her to jump from great heights with little fear of injury. Transformation: Maggy can transform into a powerful dragon form, but this is almost never worth it. The transformation itself hurts an incredible amount, she has to feel her bones breaking and reforming, her muscles tearing and healing. This process isn't fast either, it's not like ripping off a band-aid. It takes a good 20 seconds of agonising pain to fully change form, this torture often leaves her less than sane, going into a frenzied rage attacking anything that moves. Weakness/limitations: When it comes to mobility and evasion, Maggy has plenty of room to improve. She's ill experienced in combat let alone using her powers. Also her great strength comes with a downside, she's permanently ill from her mutations, she can be found frequently coughing up black gunk. This gunk is highly toxic and should be avoided. Dragon form powers True dragons strength/hide: In dragon form Maggy is immensely strong being able to move train cars or bulldozers, all this strength being focused in her humongous wing arms. She is also vastly more durable in dragon form then previously. Able to tank multiple explosives with little problem, the explosions will hurt for sure but she's able to push through them and continue fighting. Bullets now have even less effect on her barely getting through her hardened scales. Volatile magical blasts: The dragon form has for more deadly energy attacks, taking the form of purple fire or crackling purple explosions. These attacks are best avoided dude to their great impact force and scolding heat. Fortunately the explosive blasts are very short range only extending out maybe 5-6 meters in front of Maggy. Wings: In dragon form Maggy is able to properly use her wings and is capable of flight. Weakness/limitations: In dragon form Maggy is huge. This makes her an easy target for attacks, this size also prevents her from being stealthy in any capacity. She retains her chronic illness from her hybrid state but also looses sight on her right side, only having a left eye. Likes: Meat, Candy, Blood, Milk, Quiet, Food, people. Dislikes: People, Quiet, Racism, weaklings. Skills: Maggy really has no outstanding skills outside of her powers, this is mostly due to her complete lack of memories. She only has basic knowledge, like how to cook and speak. Other: Maggy has basically no memories of who she was before being a dragon hybrid. Whatever changed her made sure she didn't know what it was.</s> <|message|>"REDACTED" The doors to the shop swung open and... nothing walked in. This left the shopkeep both stunned, and confused, before standing up and moving to close the door, though something caught his eye while he was in the act of doing so. A displacement of light? Must just be his imagination playing up, he thought. He closed the door, turned to return to his seat where he was, before being interrupted by the shutters to his store closing... again on their own. He stood up again, this time reaching under the counter for his very own weapon: A new, gleaming shotgun. He didn't even get to aim it before it was yanked out of his hands, by... the displacement of light. It's form rippled, and standing before him was the jet black for of something out of his nightmares... "I... please don't kill me! I'll give you all the money, anything!" He cried the words as his bladder relieved itself. His heart rate increased, and immediately he was sweating profusely. "Miniature Fusion Reactor." The voice that came from the horror was... course. As if it was pained to speak out loud. It moved its free hand behind its back, and pulled out a small cylinder, though rusted and worn. It had a very faint orange glow to it, though it seemed as though it was dying, that much the shop-keep could tell. "This. New." "I-I sold it! Couple days ago! M-man left the city right afte-!" The man's pleading voice was cut short as a small and sharp blade cleanly sliced his throat, sending a spurt of blood on both the assassin and the counter. As the assassin took a step back, the man fell backwards, letting out one final gurgle of sound escape before expiring. "..." The assassin wiped off what little blood was on its small wristblade, then retracted it back into its wrist, before re-acquiring the reactor it had pulled from its back, re-inserting it, and changing the sign on the door to say 'closed' instead of 'open', leaving the shutters closed. Guess It had to find another way of getting a Fusion Reactor... The assassin wasn't the happiest at the moment, and ignored the civilians who recoiled at the sight of fresh blood on the suit. A couple even ran off to call for authorities... as if that would do anything. With a hiss of servos, the suit turned and walked off back towards the main food hall, since that was close to the next location that may or may not sell a Fusion Reactor.</s> <|message|>Walter (Walt) Grismer Walt Grismer --- --- Walt loved crowded places, the opening of a new mall was one such occasion that brought out all of the wealthy and eager to come and blow too much money on things they don't need, but something he had learned was that often times, people were far more careless with the way they carried their money when they anticipate pulling it out a lot. Within the first hour of opening, he had already swiped two hundred and fifty in cash and some gift cards he had found in wallets, he didn't need the money too bad but he hated to see an opportunity pass him by. The real goal of the day was a lovely jewelry shop, couples looking at engagement rings and diamond earrings, but all Walt knew was that diamonds were expensive and he had a guy that would buy them. "Excuse me sir is there something I can help you with?" A posh looking salesman said with obvious disdain, Walt was just dressed in dark clothes, a thin leather jacket over a white hoodie. Walt took off his sunglasses, now indoors and out of the sun. "Actually I could use a hand, My wife is not doing well, I thought I might surprise her with some new jewelry." The salesman was skeptical but led him to the counter anyway, but not before a small stone fell from Walt's pocket, enchanted with a horrid odor. The salesman did his best to try and help Walt even as the stench became over whelming and the other customers had already left, soon the salesman excused himself to make a call, only long enough for Walt to swipe a few rings and earrings before ducking out himself. Walt made his way out of the area of the jewelry store, score in hand, slowly enchanting each small piece to be invisible. How many times had he done this now? If most people didn't just think all Drow were criminals anyway, it may have been easier to find which one did the crime.... though, to be fair whichever one you grabbed probably did something.</s>
<|message|>Maggy Maggy walked into the bathroom gritting her teeth, the nerve of that guy. Didn't matter, he was gone now, and she could finally change into her new dress. She went into a spare cubical and removed all her soiled clothes, she let out a great sigh of relief as she didn't have to deal with the clothes clinging to her skin. She tossed the dirty dress to the side and turned off her disguise, she needed to see her wings properly. Horns and wings extend the time it takes to put clothes one considerably, after eventually donning her new garments she reapplied her disguise and walked out of her cubical. She was satisfied with the dress "Who knew I could rock purple so well?" She joked to herself, but she didn't find it funny. When she got out of the bathroom she was greeted by a pile of clothes and the tiny girl from the store. It was almost comical seeing her tiny legs behind the clothing she carried, but Maggy was not in the mood to laugh. "Who bought these and told you to give them to me?" Maggy's first thoughts were that someone must be following her, or it was the jerkoff from before. Neither option pleased her. "You know what it doesn't matter. You go tell whoever got these for me, to stop following me." Maggy was mad and she let it get into her tone. The girl would've been slightly intimidated by the tall woman growling at her, not to mention the dimly glowing red eye. Maggy let out a sigh, the poor girl didn't deserve that. Probably. "Sorry, I let my anger get the better of me for a moment. Could you please return these dresses back to the shelves, if I am going to get a gift, I would like to know who the source is. I don't like strangers, or stalkers..." The girl nodded furiously quickly taking the clothes and headed back towards the store, despite Maggy's efforts she'd still spooked the poor girl. Maggy cursed under her breath, but then she thought for a moment, yes that was it. She would follow the girl back to this charitable stranger. Then she'd have a word...</s>
<|description|>"Crystal Maiden" Marlene Evangeline Age: 20 Birthday: May 16th Magic: Crystal-Make: This form of caster magic, more specifically a molding magic, allows the user to solidify their magical power into a crystalline form and create structures out of it in just mere moments. These structures can be used for a diverse range of uses and are easily switched by "recycling" the crystal used to make an object and adding the appropriate amount of crystal to another. The user may also switch their surroundings into a crystalline state for brief moments before their magical power is consumed and, unlike Ice-Make, doesn't have separate branches, but rather, it can be used in any manner and all is dependent on the users imagination. The user also has the ability to wield and use any kind of natural crystals and gems in their surroundings, ranging from quartz, to jade, to ruby, to diamond and the like, each having different strength, properties, weaknesses, and abilities. Some crystals can be used to counter-act against different element attacks. For example: Pink quartz is the main crystal Marlene uses and while strong in its own rank, it's not the strongest crystal. It has no special features. Jade has high defense against grass, wood, and earth based attacks. However, it is weak against fire and lava attacks. Ruby has high defense against fire and lava attacks, and can even absorb them to add power to the user. However, it is weak against water based attacks. Aquamarine has high defense against water attacks and is resistant to many fire-based attacks. And while it can resist ice attacks for a short while, it eventually will succumb to freeze. Diamond is the strongest crystal ability in Marlene's disposal. It's often used in Phase 2 Attacks (Look below) and is known for unleashing powerful beam attacks and almost impenetrable shields. However, due to its rapid energy depletion of the user's magic abilities, it's often used in a final attack or a final ditch effort to save someone from a powerful attack, and vice versa. It's even strong enough to resist Etherion for a minute and a half, or so it has been recorded. There's only 2 phases of attacks, the first concentrating more on melee and weapon attacks, and the second being projectile and beam attacks (while also keeping all phase 1 attacks). Phase 1 Attacks Include: Crystal Make: Sword: In this technique, the user creates either a single or multiple crystalline blades which possess remarkable cutting power. Crystal Make: Javelin: In this technique, the user creates a large, sharp, spear in which it has a large amount of piercing power and can shatter through many defenses. Crystal-Make: Floor: This technique creates a floor made out of crystal, which is highly slippery and has almost no friction. This makes it very advantageous against ground mages, though the user is immune to the effect, allowing him to take on these opponents easily. Crystal-Make: Punch: In this technique, the user's fist of their choice transforms into a large crystaline-fist(s) of the user's choice and can deal a good amount of damage to those who are weak to the crystal's ability. Crystal-Make: Shield: In this technique, the user creates a shield of crystals of the user's choice, which can reflect or absorb an element that is weak to the shield's element. If absorbed, the element goes to the user, allowing her to charge up in that energy. Crystal-Make: Bow: This technique is one of the few Phase 1 projectile attacks. Here, the user wields a bow and can fire several crystal arrows of her choice at her opponent. And a ton more... --- Phase 2 attacks are much stronger and drain energy much more quickly then Phase 1 attacks. To save and/or even collect more energy, the user prepares for Phase 2 via a special magic spell known as: Crystal-Make: Phase 2 - Energy Towers: In this technique, the user can summon various sized crystals of the user's choice straight from the ground, usually up to 4. They are usually quite large, highly durable, and provide a ton of energy for the user in a 1 mile radius. This opens the gate for the user to create Phase 2 attacks without the worry of rapidly loosing power. If broken, theirs an hour cool limit in order to make another one. Phase 2 Attacks Include: Crystal-Make: Beam: This technique allows the user to create a powerful beam from its hands, made of the crystal of the user's choice. It can be a devastating move if it hits a mage that's weak to the ability's element. This can come in small laser-like blasts, to large kamehameha-like blasts, depending on the situation and energy level. Beams can be used either with one or two hands. Crystal-Make: Arm Cannon: This technique allows the user to create a powerful arm cannon that can unleash a volley of crystals at the opponent. Crystal-Make: Crystal Barrage: This technique allows the user to levitate crystals from the ground, up to a hundred at a time, and unleash them on its opponent, the larger ones causing large explosions after hitting a solid object. Crystal-Make: Gunlance: This technique is the same as the lance, but is significantly more powerful and can shoot opponents at point-blank range. Magic Level: A History: For as long as she can remember, she was always in love with sparkly things, especially if those sparkly things were gems. Marlene was born in Magnolia Town to a healthy middle class family and was obsessed with jewelry and gemstones. She would often visit the nearby Jewelry shop and browse at all the shiny gems, sometimes even begging her parents to buy some for her. Despite such obsession, Marlene was a good person, who was friendly, out-going, and a determined student. In fact, such determination lead her to become a mage based off what she loved most... However, that was just merely a 'happy' accident. When Marlene was 9, she and her family went on a caving exploration to a massive cave, filled with many different kinds of crystals and gemstones, all in different shapes and sizes. She even said that, 'it felt like I was in heaven and that [she] would love to stay in that cave for all of eternity.' Yet what she was not expecting was touching a rare gem, a rainbow colored one, and giving her the magic ability: Crystal Make, the power to mold and create objects specifically out of her obsession. When Marlene's parents found out, they were at first concerned that she may take her powers a bit too far. However, with Marlene's self training and control over the years, her parents are now much more relaxed. When she was older and much more experienced with her powers, her parents suggested that she should join a magic guild, with the closest and most popular one being Phoenix Wing, and use those powers for a greater cause. Marlene gladly accepted their suggestion to heart and moved in to become a powerful mage for Phoenix Wing, where she has remained ever since. Personality: While obsessed with all things gems, Marlene is a good person, who's very friendly, caring, social and out-going to her friends. While sometimes showing her goofier side, she is incredibly determined to get any job done and save the lives of anyone and everyone. Guild and guild mark location: Phoenix Wing; On her back Team Members: None ATM Three Strengths: 1. Determined 2. Smart and strategic 3. Usually comes prepared Three Weaknesses: 1. Her energy towers, while incredibly durable, are not invincible. If one destroys a crystal while Marlene issues a Phase 2 attack, it can take a massive chunk out of her energy. If all crystals are destroyed, then she will not be able to use any of her Phase 2 attacks. 2. Sometimes, her determination can lead to her downfall against a much stronger opponent. 3. Without her glasses, she cannot see correctly (though she can make and copy a new pair for herself). Greatest Love: Jewelry and gems (duh). Motivation: To become a powerful mage and to establish peace. Additional Details: She also happens to adore cats. In addition, when determined, its been said that her eyes glow a bright green the more determined she is. Ready For Battle! Determined To Win!</s> <|message|>"Crystal Maiden" Marlene Evangeline Marlene Evangeline Marlene chuckles a bit at Enma's response. "It's cray-cray actually haha," she responds light heartedly, "And sure while I don't usually drink, this will really help me recover from this crazy~" But as she was walking beside Enma, she happens to look to her right... and see Nolan. And what was Nolan doing? Kissing a girl that is! Now Marlene would normally ignore anyone kissing someone else... but this is Nolan. "D-day..." And for some damn reason behold, she's not only getting... should I say, 'hot'... but also kinda mad. I mean, literally mad. And that anger is rising! And I'm sorry, I don't know WHY! And even she doesn't even know why. Her eyes begin to grow a bright emerald green, almost covering her whole pupils. She clenches her fists as she starts to shake slightly in several violent jerks. "W-W-Why am I a-acting like thi-this?" she thinks to herself as she struggles to control herself, "Why am I l-like this w-w-when I see t-that Nolan guy k-k-kissing that g-girl? W-what is this f-feeling I-I'm...?" See. Even she doesn't know. But now her emotions have taken over. And almost like a stone-cold zombie, she sneaks past the crowd and approaches the two. She comes behind Ariel and looms ominously over her, her pupils' solid emerald, her aura intensely prominent, and her fingers squirming around to touch and bring death to anything they touch. "HELLO... BITCH. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?" she growls ominously as she looks down upon Ariel in a stare that would almost paralyze anyone in her gaze.</s> <|message|>Nolan Waltz @Lmpkio NOLAN and ENMA Nolan's eyes widened as soon as he realized what he was doing and his face flared up once again. What was his mind and body doing going on autopilot like that?! His first kiss too no less... "Oh god, I am so sorry Ariel. I couldn't control myself...these stupid vexing feelings. I know your magic is influencing my actions, but that isn't an excuse." He sighed, his fingers ran through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. Showing a rare soft smile he said,"Still...I guess under these circumstances I'm glad that at least my first kiss was with you and not some random person, charmed or not." His eyes widened against as he realized what he just said. "I mean it's still not okay that I kissed you like that nor telling you to take responsibility for what you did. Er, the kiss didn't feel bad, but erm, crap I'm only digging a deeper hole for myself aren't I?" Nolan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There wasn't a need to be so anxious. This will work itself out in the end, right? There had to be a silver lining to all of this. "Listen, perhaps this is the charm talking or I'm really am going out of my mind, but maybe this is a blessing in disguise? It would be just about impossible for me to form romantic relationships or whatever you want to call his so maybe...Gah, no it wouldn't be fair for you to do that. I don't want you to force you into it if it's out of guilt or a sense of duty. That would only make us both miserable. Nolan heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed his forehead with his right hand. "I think I'm going to need a strong drink la-" A sense of dread shot through his entire body as he saw rage incarnate standing right behind Ariel. Wait a minute, wasn't that Marlene? What the hell was up with her and why did she look like she was going to murder Ariel. Quickly he stepped in between them and kept Ariel behind him. Ariel was completely defenseless now that she had lost the ability to use magic for who knows how long. Judging by the choice of words Marlene picked he could guess that she was beyond livid with her at this point. "What in the hell has gotten into you Marlene? This isn't how you treat someone who's a member of your own guild!" The embarrassment and bewilderment from before had been replaced with Nolan's trademarked icy, cold son of a bitch attitude that he was known for. Meanwhile, Enma stood with Gabriel still and scratched his head wondering just what had gotten into Marlene. "Huh, I wonder why she ran off."</s> <|message|>Ariel "Rainbow" Gratas Ariel @Lmpkio Nolan was babbling again it seemed. At least not he actually knew what was going on, not that he had any control of himself it seemed. He apparently was conflicted about the situation. While that was something Ariel expected she did not see him ever suggesting that this was a good thing. Like he said, it could be the charm doing the talking. So she had to take everything he said and did with a grain of salt. While trying to work out what to say a sense of doom came over her. Turning around she saw the glowing green eyes of Marlene. She looked half crazy and Ariel suddenly felt quite small. Who the hell was this and what was her problem? Reaching behind her Ariel tried to find her chain whip but apparently didn't have it. Right, she didn't have it on her when she was teleported. Great, without that or her magic she was pretty well defenseless. However Nolan seemed to come to the rescue by stepping between them. Letting out a small sigh of relief it appeared that this was someone new to the guild. Likely just a misunderstanding, hopefully.</s>
<|message|>"Crystal Maiden" Marlene Evangeline But Marlene didn't listen to Nolan as her eyes were fixed straight on Ariel. She was pissed. Half-crazy? That's a total understatement. More like, BAT-SHIT crazy! Her hands begin to turn into crystals as she prepares for combat. Her inner mind is telling her stop, but her body and outer emotions refuse to listen. "THAT WOMAN IS A TRAITOR!" she begins to growl, raising her voice, "SHE'S TRYING TO KILL YOU! ALLOW ME TO SAVE YOU NOLAN!" And it was there... that hell breaks loose. Marlene's fist begins to retaliate as it would miss Nolan's head by a few inches, headed straight to Ariel's facial region. If Nolan would try to retaliate, his hand would most likely be accidentally destroyed by such an incoming force. It was then that Marlene would leap over him and lunge at the other woman like a savage tiger! "GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU BITCH!" she roars as she starts a fight at hand.</s>
<|description|>Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin Gender: M Age: Unknown Personality: Zealous, loud, and bombastic, Rasputin has the air of one who lives in the moment. He possesses a strange and terrifying charisma that acts like a magnet for the mentally unhinged, and Resputin himself is only too eager to help with their requests. Power-hungry by nature, rather than trust, he seeks to become necessary to people, preferring not to give them a choice in working with him. Appearance Biography: Rasputin is an artificial human, created by an unknown (but presumably Russian) mage with the intention of using the grail to travel back in time and replace the real Rasputin in order to create a timeline where the Czar rules over Russia into the modern day and forms the United Imperial State of Russia. Whether this plan will actually work, time will tell. Family History: N/A Origin: Alchemy Elemental Affinity: Earth Number of Magic Circuits: C Quality of Magic Circuits: D Od: E Magecraft: Capable of some weak healing spells, wards against disease, minor suggestions to weak-willed humans, and the like. The limits of his artificial body's capacity for magic are made up for by its absurd durability and self-regenerative powers. Rasputin's most unique skill is the internal furnace, an automated magical "factory" of sorts that runs the length of his digestive tract and allows him to shape and reforge any matter he swallows and integrate it into his body if he so chooses. This does not allow him to change the nature of the matter, merely shape and refine it- that is to say, he couldn't turn lead into gold, but he could swallow hematite and regurgitate an iron knife. Equipment: Hypnotic Pendulum - a simple pocketwatch engraved with spells, it allows him to put people to sleep and strength the effects of his healing magic and powers of suggestion. Bulletproof vest - Not actually needed since his own durability far outstrips the protection offered by the vest, he keeps it around because it helps maintain the illusion that he's human. A 1982 GAZ-24 Skills: Some first-aid training; an odd, inhuman charisma (not in a politician way but in more of a crazed street preacher way); unnaturally strong and tough for his size and build; broad knowledge of Russian myth, alchemy, chemistry; a surprising mastery of sleight of hand techniques; basic firearms training; fluency in russian, english, japanese; certified electrician; skilled at both violin and guitar; fantastic singing voice; Russia's greatest love machine. Other: He's sterile and has severe tourettes, defects from his nature as a homunculus. As a homunculus, he's built for strength, toughness, and self-repair above all else.</s> <|message|>Wes Downgate Wes Downgate @KoL --- Wes smiled. "No no, that's fine." In all honesty, I just wanted you to knock her down a peg, he told Tamamo mentally. Killing her really won't be necessary. I mean, I'm not that cold-hearted. At worst we should just keep her locked up somewhere. She could still be useful, after all. I just wanted to see if she'd shape up and start taking me seriously after having that gaudy boa constrictor almost drown her. Wes smiled evilly. I mean, after all the abuse she and her "elite" magus friends put me through at the Clocktower, this much is deserved and should be expected, right? "So Seyrun," he said, still smiling serenely. "How was the dip? Feel like having a serious conversation now or are we going to keep trying to think of ways we can stab each other in the back like a bunch of idiots? I'll tell you right now, I'm not letting you steal Caster, so you can just forget about that. She's mine. I think I'd sooner kiss the feet of Lord El-Melloi than let you have her."</s> <|message|>Eightfold Blessing of Amaterasu "Oh my..." Tamamo gasped, seemingly looking at her master in a new light. Everything that Seyrun said was making sense, which was bizarre given that she was her Master's nemesis-turned-servant Tamamo didn't expect as such. One in particular stuck out in her mind, however. "Master, are you really such a deviant? I mean, I could try and be the sub to your dom as the people say nowadays, but I was hoping for more tenderness rather than violence!" Wringing the water from her tail with a shake of her hips, Tamamo did her best to adapt to the situation. "But if that is what pleases my Master, then I shall be there to sate his blackest desires." She sighed and went back to her meal as though nothing significant had occurred before freezing halfway to her utensils and asking in a teasing tone. "Umm, do I need to ask permission to eat now, Master?</s> <|message|>Wes Downgate Wes Downgate @KoL --- Wes blushed, momentarily caught off-guard at Seyrun's words, then scowled. "Your 'word' is worth about as much to me as dirt, Seyrun. Same goes for your family's name. And believe me, that was not my intention." Wes sighed. "The bathroom is in the back." Wes eyed her with suspicion (though notably trying to avoid looking at her bra now that she'd brought it up). He'd have to be careful around her, lest his newfound power over his mortal enemy go to his head and make him say or do something stupid. "And stop calling me 'Master'!" he yelled back. "It's freaking me out!" Worried about what his Servant might think of him after that little tongue-in-cheek tirade, Wes turned to Caster. You know none of what she said is true, right Tamamo? he communicated mentally. I mean I would never... not for that reason... and not to you! Don't let her get to you. She's just trying to play the situation to her advantage because she thinks she can swindle this "boorish, unrefined commoner" out of his Servant. And before she could say anything, Wes quickly added, And it's not that I don't trust you! It's that I don't trust her. Believe me, anyone who tries to waltz into someone else's home and immediately start saying stuff like that is plotting something. She's evil, not stupid. Wes chuckled to himself. Her tactics, while hitting irritatingly close to home, were funny in their own way. She's probably steaming mad the Grail didn't pick her. Don't worry, I'm not some freak who'd take advantage of a prostrating woman. Seyrun is just an exception on account of her being the actual spawn of Satan. And uhhh... you don't actually have to do any of that kind of stuff for me. I'm not actually into that... he said, somewhat embarrassed.</s> <|message|>Shinobu, Aisaka Shinobu [Ryuudou Temple] "Yeah, sure. That sounds like a great idea~" There isn't a trace of hesitation in Shinobu's voice, but at the same time, her mind hardens. This is not the correct move. Any competent Master would realize that establishing a home base takes absolute priority, especially compared to something as trivial as shopping for clothes. Then, by association with the girl's suggestion, one fact was made perfectly clear: Lú Qiūyuè was not a competent Master. If she was not a competent Master, then an alliance with her would be meaningless. In spite of her concerns, Shinobu's voice and face betray nothing of what was actually going on in her head. At the time, she was gazing happily up at the sky, noting the pleasant weather ahead of them for the day. "It looks like it will be a great day for a visit to town. We do have to pick up a few things before we can establish ourselves, after all." "Plus," she adds, smiling over at the pair of Servants. "With two Servants, there's no chance an enemy Master would think of attacking us rashly. It ought to be safe, even if we move in the open." Shinobu gathers up her stuff, putting on her rucksack and lifting her suitcase without any difficulty. It looked a little heavy, but apparently she was stronger than she looked, because she didn't seem bothered by its weight at all. On the contrary, she slings it over her shoulder and starts walking purposefully in the direction of town without stopping to talk. "We'll have plenty of time to get to know one another when we're in town. For now, I have an idea of where we're going, so why not just get a good, early start? I'd like to get back to the temple before dark, just so that we can set up our fortifications before anyone else considers using it as their base." She gestures forwards, turning her head to look at the other female Master. "Shall we?" @Moonman@Hantu Kongkek</s> <|message|>Andrew Jackson The Archer let go of his rifle with his right hand, holding it by the barrel from the opposite, the body of the firearm leaned against his arm. Before Shinobu could put her bag completely over her back, Jackson took it by the top strap. Picking it up, he realized it wasn't nearly as heavy as it appeared, the president capable of swinging it around with no effort whatsoever. He lay the rucksack on the ground and sat before it. His arms stuck out underneath the straps, and squatting, the president picked himself back up off the ground. It was an unnecessary process, but one he seemed apparently used to performing. "I'll be takin' this too" Jackson said. "If nobody's gonna see us, fine. We'll get ourselves established. It's that big ol' thing made of wood and rocks right?" Before he could get a response, the servant had already began stomping towards it. With his longer strides, he caught up with and eventually passed his master. The former president turned his head back. "Y'all comin'?"</s> <|message|>Solovei the Brigand Listening once more, Assassin was pleased to see that his Master was a bit more than just interested in drugs, and actually had some common sense in his head for tactical matters. It might not be some grand strategy to cleverly win the war and defeat all heir enemies, but it was nonetheless a plan, and it was much more acceptable to Assassin than whatever they had been talking about before. Whether it would do the job was another story, but for an initial plan it was good. "Very well Master," Assassin replied with a nod of his head. "It sounds like a good plan for entering into this war." Still, it seemed like they wouldn't set out on it immediately. But that was fine, so long as there weren't any major fights taking place already. And they probably would notice if there were, depending on who was involved. For now thought, as the first day it was probable that they could rest easy. He paused then, thinking it over before shrugging. "Whatever you like Master. I have never had the fortune of sampling Japanese cuisine." He'd grown up in the forests of central Russia after all, a bit far from he Island of Nippon. That said he prepared to fade from sight and follow Hector, or to walk alongside him, however the man wished to handle the...odd, appearance of his Servant.</s> <|message|>Vlad III Lancer "Very well, Master." Without missing a beat, Lancer dematerialized out of the car, and reappeared a moment later just behind it. It wasn't at all tough to simply spear the familiar and and gather the remain. It did not seem like something the previous magus they met would make however. He could still recall how soft her features was, how inviting her neck, those frightened eyes. It was hard to imagine her making this rather cold and hard familiar. Walking back slowly to his Master, he finally answered the questions, a slight hint of amusement present in his voice. "Apologies, Master, I shall have to disappoint you. I can do none of what you described to me. I can, perhaps, dematerialize and go through unwarded walls or the likes, but turning into fogs and bats is far beyond my scope." Again, he entered the car, and handed over the two pieces of the familiar.</s> <|message|>Eightfold Blessing of Amaterasu but Master, can't you see? Seyrun may have come here for me, but she has wound up giving her heart to you! Momentarily lost in her inner romantic she threw herself at her master. Even if I know you only have eyes for me I can't find it inside myself to smother a love so much like my own in it's infancy. It would be like that black hearted bastard Seimei striking me down once again! The irony that the master of the Polygamist Castration Fist can not act to defend her marriage is not lost upon me, but when she comes before you with words so much like my own without knowledge of my legend, and seeing you be so mean in kind, I find myself so very conflicted. "My Master is a good man." Tamamo spoke aloud, though as a statement of fact or reassurance was questionable. "I have faith that you will be smart and kind Master for the both of us."</s>
<|message|>Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin Rasputin bit into the warped metal of the familiar remains. Silver. The second most ductile of the transition metals, after gold. It boasts the highest electrical and thermal conductivity of all metals, but also the fourth-lowest melting point at roughly 962 degrees Celsius. While it does not corrode much, it does tarnish easily- a shame, as when polished it had one of the highest reflectivity indexes of any metal. One of the first five metals discovered by man. If Rasputin fashioned this into rings or pendants, he could likely pawn them for quite a bit. He silently thanked that strange, cowardly girl for his unexpected windfall. Rasputin took another bite, his teeth sinking easily through the artificial bird. Though he himself possessed strength and toughness beyond that of a mortal man, Rasputin had no doubt that any reasonably-strong human being would need, at most, a sturdy hatchet to swiftly dispatch one of these familiars. An exceptionally strong man could likely do so with his bare hands. Rasputin began driving again, snacking on the familiar remains as they moved towards town. His throat tingled as the dying prana suffused his body and became his own, reinforcing his magic circuits with those that had been inserted into the familiar. It wasn't much, but every drop of power counted. When he had finished the larger half, he spoke again. "You are a strange sort of vampire, comrade- but then, I am a strange sort of immortal! I suppose we will have to be making do with the talents we hold." Rasputin began devouring the second half of the familiar remains as he drove into town, polishing it off as they pulled up to a small steakhouse. His head ratcheted itself to face Lancer. "You are hungry, yes? The internet has told me of this place. They are having seventy-two ounce steak, but is free if eat quickly!", Rasputin let out a hoarse, barking laugh, "But that is not being a problem for men like us, who are not tiny Japanese, yes?"</s>
<|description|>Sapphire Amaryllis Appearance: Nicknames: Ms. Falcate Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 22 Appearance: Sapphire is of a surprisingly small stature considering her age and people often assume she is younger based on that. The color of her eyes is purple and oddly enough her natural hair color is a dark blue. She is often seen wearing a long hooded cloak, while typically wearing various garments underneath. She also has a symbol/mark to the lower right of her belly button since birth. She has yet to discover the meaning of it but it is unlike any ordinary birth mark. Bio: Sapphire grew up never knowing who her parents were. She spent most of her childhood under the care of Helga, an elven maid. Sapphire had very few friends as she always gave off this odd vibe making everyone around her feel uncomfortable. Something was off around her, and everyone knew it except herself. The few people to whom she revealed her mark were immediately frightened by it, never knowing themselves why that was so. At the age of 13 Helga disappeared without a trace. This time, with Helga gone, she was truly alone. As result she had to spend most of her time on the streets. She was constantly shunned by people around her being forced to live near the edges of cities where the chance of Sickened attacks were fairly high. It was either through incredible cleverness or simply sheer luck that she survived for so long without losing her life or being infected with the Beast-Plague. Most of the money she made for a living came from small errands she ran, most times putting her in even more danger than she previously was, often having to journey between towns. Sapphire eventually enrolled in the Beast Hunters Guild at the age of 21 and began training under Joshua. She didn't have any particularly out-standing skills and she couldn't master any weapon to such the degree the she could call it a preferred weapon of choice. As result her not being able to specialize with any weapon, the combat prowess she possessed could only be described as subpar at best. Despite all this Joshua persisted and never gave up on her, continuing to train her at the best of his abilities. Personality: Having spent most of her life shunned by people and alone, Sapphire grew bitter with the world and slipped into a depression. She is rather reclusive, preferring to spend her time alone and therefore has a hard time getting close to people. Despite that she can get attached to people who place their faith in her, similarly to how Joshua did so. Granting that she has quick mind and knack for strategy, she often can't keep her cool in combat to put that to good use as she lacks the confidence necessary. Sapphire lately finds herself caring less and less about anything and everything that happens around, occasionally seeming almost aloof. Weapons: She has a kris which she believes to have originated from one of her parents and as such she holds great sentimental value for it. Her main weapon is the Falcate Moon. It is a double bladed scythe. One of the two blades can also be removed and attached to the other end of the pole while the other one can be straightened out essentially resulting in a double-ended glaive. Additionally the pole has a holster for her kris. Strengths: - Exceptional sense of hearing - Ability to strategize well - Good cook - Bargaining Skills - Skilled at blending in and not being noticed Weaknesses: - Social anxiety - Emotionally unstable - Occasionally careless on purpose - Acute fear of a few particular creatures plagued by the blight Abilities: Exicus: - Turn Familiar (taught by Joshua) Familar: An Eagle approximately twice the size of Sapphire herself. It has unusually redish feathers which is why Sapphire named her Ruby. It just large enough to able to carry Sapphire around if necessary, making travel much easier, especially if the terrain isn't passable by foot. - Paralysis Paper (aquired from an enchanter): Weapons can be imbued with a dust like substance that causes paralysis when coming in contact with living targets. Vitae: - Air Burst: Creates short pressure waves capable of hurling objects at considerable speed, but the more force applied the more exponentially draining it is on the mana reserves. - Latent Mark Abilities.</s> <|message|>Alexander Skyglory Alexander did a brief sweep for more dangers as the wyvern collapsed, wiping the small smattering of gore that had landed on him off his face as best he could. Then he froze when he saw the man holding Sapphire- in an instant his crossbow was in his hand ready to fire, but even faster than him the man had vanished into the woods. Alexander cursed as Joshua left them- again -to chase after the masked man. What was the deal with the darkness that Sapphire had let out and that white masked man? One thing after another wasn't it? Sighing Alexander took out a small metal box and stretched out some gauze, wrapping it around the worst of his familiar's injuries. Alexander quietly whispered his encouragement to the injured lizard and it growled back, oddly pleased with itself. Hopefully the blight hadn't managed to spread, Alexander didn't want to think about what would happen if it had. Alexander gave a hopeful whistle and Imgor's horse as well Alexander's own came trotting back, throwing their heads and neighing nervously. Well that was lucky at least, it wasn't unusual for horses to be trained to respond to whistles. Alexander cut of one of the wyvern's talon's and stuffed it into his bag, it couldn't hurt to take trophy, if nothing else it was proof they'd done the deed. He made sure Imgor could get on his own horse first before jumping onto his own. There was no point in following Joshua, if the masked man could beat or escape from him there was nothing Alexander could do about it, regardless of how much he wanted her back. With a small kick of his feet his horse began travelling down the road towards Kiruth again, Larion following eagerly. Just another day.</s> <|message|>Iṃgor Ẹrësîng Weakened, Imgor knew he had no chance at pursuit now, so he got up with Joshua's help, and trotted to his horse. Once he recovered he should be able to try to use his tracking spell to find either Joshua or Sapphire, with a bit of luck, and a good guess as to where Sapphire might have been taken, if he only knew something about the abductor. On the ride, while recovering most of his physical strength, Imgor wondered whether or not they had to set up camp for the night, or if they would be able to reach a town or even their destination before. Only some time into the ride he recalled what had happened to the wyvern: apparently the plague had spread faster, than even Joshua thought possible, although Sapphire's 'ability' may have been the cause of that, if speeding up the plague like that is even possible. That is also likely the reason why she was abducted, which means, whereever she is taken, the plague will likely have something to do with it. Once he had recovered sufficient mana, Imgor planned to check for the density of the plague, kind of like a map. If his assertion is correct, Sapphire will be taken to either a high concentration of the plague, or a low concentration of it.</s> <|message|>Willo Luelle And so Willo did not dodge conventionally. As the beast closed the distance between them, her eyes faded in color, and rather than side-step or yield backward ground, she lunged forward in a black misty haze. She passed through and by it in vapors, reforming the split hairs of the moment the attack was avoided. "This way~!" Her foot pressed against its back, and she jumped again, torquing her body parallel to the ground and whipping the glaive up at it with as much force as she could muster. Without the aid of a super-heated blade however, she didn't expect much of an effect, and in the worst case the thing would stick to the beast, and be lost to her. But she didn't think about that, she had few options and if she spent the whole time debating them the damned beast would devour her.</s> <|message|>Sapphire Amaryllis First Nickolaus, now Sapphire. The group members dwindling to half within a week. It did not bode well for the foreseeable future, considering the recent events. Things seemed to be in play that even informed individuals like Joshua were unaware of. As dusk was setting, with the sun just barely visible on the horizon, Alex and Imgor were two thirds of the way to Kiruth, having made good time with the horses they acquired not too long ago. They might have made it to the town by now, however Larion was having difficulties maintaining the pace. It wasn't clear yet if those were signs of the plague or simply fatigue due to the injuries sustained, however he was definitely not in top condition. Imgor tried to find Joshua or Sapphire using his spell along the way, with little success unfortunately. Another attempt to locate hot-spots of plague infection was inconclusive as well, with a lack of any remarkable high or low density plague zones. The fact that he did such a broad search also limited his range considerably. Provided they decided not to camp out for the night, they would likely arrive in Kiruth just after midnight, not too long after one other horseman with similar goals. A comparable view would await them, namely that of an unexplained crowd at the center of the town. --- In Castle Bloodleaves the struggle of another one continued. Willo was indeed fast, and her Flitter aided that even further. This creature however, was beyond human. By the time she flung her body around in order to strike the beasts back, it was already facing her. The glaive cut deep into what used to be a hand of sorts and Willos fears became reality. The glaive did not really stick to the creature. Instead it grabbed the glaive. It then spun it around in a semicircle in a mindless attempt to get it out of the way. This flung Willo into the wall behind it. A metallic clink dwarfed the thud Willos body made against the wall, as the glaive lodged itself into the wall not too far from her head. Willo collapsed to the ground dazed, the room seemingly spinning around her, after the hard impact with the wall. "Willo!" Lazarus said her name again to try and get her to focus. She could barely hear it, obscured by a ringing in her ears. "Use the barrier!" He then added. Within moments the creature was once more right in front of her, stood on its hind limbs and preparing to hack at her with the same arm she wounded with the glaive, greenish liquid dripping onto the marble below.</s> <|message|>Jonathan of Gulderland. The older hunter was right on point with his comments. It would appear simple posturing did not fool the man. "Yes... yes you are right..." Jonathan gritted his teeth as he glanced at the crowd around him. The nerve this hunter had to just denounce him like that... But then again, he was also right. "I don't really know what happened to my old master, guess such is a risk of the job... But I was on my way to castle bloodleaves right now to meet with another one. Seeing as I was ahead on my travel schedulde I decided I could afford to get waylaid and so here I am." He took a breath after this explenation. Long-winded breathless monologues were still a skill he had retained from more comfortable times. He folded his lance back up without much show. Showing the thing off had failed anyway. "So... From your insistence to have me out of the way I gather you can't really find use for me. I guess I'll be on my way then." He spurred linda to walk back into the crowd, carefully, as to not accidentally trample on a hapless townsman.</s>
<|message|>Sapphire Amaryllis The seasond hunter narrowed his eyes when Jonathan mentioned his destination. "That fool." The veteran muttered. Unless he was that kind of person, it didn't seem like he was talking about Jonathan, as he was still there and could obviously overhear what he was saying. "Take them away." He ordered the men who showed up, apparently having seen enough. And not long after the two began disposing of the bodies. Sighing, he turned towards the soon-to-become hunter before he had the chance to leave. "If you meet a hunter other than your mentor at Castle Bloodleaves, either don't get on his bad side or stay away from him altogether." "You think it's him?" The younger hunter asked the other one, getting once again distracted from his task at hand. "Who else uses his enemies' weapons against them in such a brutal manner? Thank the gods it was petty bounty hunters this time." He got as a response, followed by another sigh. With the two focused on their conversation, it didn't take long for the situation to spiral out of control, the crowed now slowly becoming aggressive. Out in the distance, echoing from the direction of the imposing castle, a screech suddenly silenced the entirety of the crowed, leaving even the two hunters present staring in the direction from which the horrid sound came, with a rather startled expression on their faces. However the old-timers expression changed to one of annoyance. "What's he done now?" He asked himself, his voice failing to conceal his anger. Before bolting off towards the castle he ordered his fellow hunter to stay here with the crowd.</s>
<|description|>Mahrie Lizbeth Beaulieu (Mah-ree Bow-li-yoo) A little girl with a very big heart, and the desire to help in any way she can. Most of Mahrie's life was spent under her parent's watchful care. She was born in Perouges, France on May 25th, 2004. She was brought up in a middle-class family that valued many things. Her parents volunteered with their church to help in city restorations, and periodically travelling around France for missionary work. On August 1st, 2014 her mother, Rubie Beaulieu died of Spinal Muscular Atrophy, a genetic disorder characterized by weakness and wasting in muscles used for movement. After her mother died, Mahrie's father, Marc Beaulieu, volunteered for a permanent assignment as a Pastor at the Eagle Harbor Congregational church in Bainbridge Island, WA. Moving was rough for Mahrie. Both sides of her grandparents had passed away when she was younger, so it wasn't so much missing friends and family, but having to learn a whole new language put a damper in her usually bright spirits. Primary school gave her a rough start as Mahrie had a very difficult time making friends. A year into her new education, most days would result in her coming home with tears in her eyes and evenings in her father's arms as he tried to comfort her through the confusion and distress. On September 19th, 2018 her father was a victim in a drive-by shooting in Seattle while at a conference for his missionary work. While arrangements were being made for his funeral, Mahrie was given many invitations from families at her father's church to come and live with them while she dealt with her grief. All of which, she declined. Eventually, Mahrie was moved to a local orphanage with a small amount of children, some her age, most of them younger. She continued to power through her studies, deciding early on in life that she yearned to be a doctor, to help people like her mom. And to be an author, so she could share with the world what an amazing man her father was, and how devoted he was to his family and his community. Physical Traits Mahrie prefers to wear her hair down, spread about her shoulders most of the time. Sometimes, she'll put it in a one-sided braid that she'll pull over one of her shoulders. She favors fun, colorful blouses most of the time, some with floral patterns, some plain, and is usually seen wearing darker blue jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie when roaming about. Gender Female Ethnicity Caucasian Sexuality Heterosexual Age 16 Motives Mahrie's parents' devotion to both her, and their community taught her at a young age to be compassionate, understanding, and willing to help in and way she could. Her mother taught her to keep powering through until the very end, no matter what the world throws at you. And her father left a legacy of helping anyone he could, but also finding a balance between his passion in his work and his daughter, giving care and compassion to both, equally. Due to the experiences she's had since moving from France to the United States, with bullying and sometimes not grasping "American" concepts quite as well, Mahrie lacks confidence in herself in times of emotional stress, sometimes feeling as though she isn't good enough for what needs to be done. Occupation Young high school student, aspiring doctor and author.</s> <|message|>Sebastian Donovan Barretto --- --- It was a normal day for Donny, the poor guy going through the parking lot of Zemreaft Mall. He had found a half-eaten sandwich, promptly eliminating the 'half' before going to a water fountain for a few sips. When he went around with his coffee cup it seemed people were paying far less attention to him than usual and it seemed even the security guards were too busy to tell him to get the fuck out. Odd, really, because he hadn't washed himself in a while and was looking particularly like a hobo today. Hours passed and his cup barely jingled as he shook it, much to the man's annoyance. It was enough for today but not tomorrow, it meant he'd have to repeat the routine unless some Saint went over to give a bunch of tens. What had people's attention so preoccupied? It was probably school today for the kids and still work time for other folk so naturally those at the mall would only be those with either something important, or nothing better to do. Yet, he had gotten used to that and had long since been accounting for it when choosing where he would make his living today. Deciding that was enough for today he emptied his cup into a pocket and then went to figure out what the hell was going on, even his usually careless curiosity piqued. He saw a few kids on a bench all looking at one phone. He kept hearing something on the themes of "Wow!" and "Dayum!" and assumed that he had found his mark. "Skipping school you little pricks?" The veteran demanded, getting behind them quite quietly as creepy old men like him could. They almost scattered until he placed a grimy hand on the shoulder of the two boys on the periphery. "Don't worry, I wouldn't snitch even if I cared for your sorry little asses enough to do so. Now what the hell is everyone freaking out over?" He queried, motioning with his head to the phone. They were quiet for a little until one of them spoke up, probably the unofficial leader of the snot patrol. "Some guys got shot!" He announced excitedly, snatching the phone away and pressing play on the video. A normal little part of town that he had once even been in, so far as he could remember. Two... sickly looking people going at the cops and then they aimed and fired. The Old man shuddered with a look here and there as the sound of firearms came about, to the giggles of the teens. But the first shots didn't so much as stop the two people, which was odd. Donny survived quite a lot more shots back then but he was wearing a damn plate carrier. Ordinary people had no business walking on after eating so many bullets. He didn't really wince after they collapsed when taking a shot to the head, off the top of his head Don could only think of that girl in... Pakistan - if he remembered right - could survive something like that. Jesus.... Alright now scram, go, be the kids your parents want you to be or some shit." After the kids vacated the bench Don sat down on it for a moment, before sprawling across it comfortably. He put a hand under his shirt to feel the old bullet scars, muttering for a moment or two about what the world was coming to before drifting off to sleep.</s> <|message|>Gideon So --- ~a meal to start the end -1:32 PM, Downtown in Ramen Cafe Famished and dehydrated, Gideon had finally made his way to his seat, after having been in the line for almost half an hour. Lunch hour was in full swing, as the restaurant was packed from wall to wall with patrons, but something felt off for today. Instead of seeing lively faces active in a litany of conversations, many faces were all huddled together, staring into their phone screens. Gideon pulled his out, thinking maybe there'd be an obvious reason, but scrolling through his normal Instagram feed gave him no such answers. All his focus on this topic, however, dissipated when the waitress came to his table, giving him a friendly smile, and sliding a menu in front of him. Now, to eat… After another 10 minutes, a group of Gideon's courier colleagues walked in, spotting him at his table and started coming over. They only glanced up at him once, though, making their way over slowly, all while staring into their phones, same as the rest of the patrons. Gulping down some water, Gideon spoke up as his friends closed the distance. "Everyone's glued to their damn phones today, the hell is going on?" "Oh, that's right! You don't use Twitter, huh?" David asked, finally making eye contact as he sat down in the booth with him, along with Carter and Jesus. David, a 29 year old white man, with long brown hair in a smooth ponytail doing down his back and a scruffy beard, turned his phone towards Gideon. "This video is being posted all over the place, check it out." Looking down at the screen, Gideon watched as two people, covered in blood and with crazed looks in their eyes, attacked and tried to bite or maul a pair of police officers, all the while, a man with a massive wound in his neck was bleeding to death behind them, all for an entire neighborhood to watch. The belligerent woman then turned her attention to a pair of police officers, who responded by pulling guns and shooting her multiple times, to seemingly no effect. Gideon watched on, horrified at how this madwoman had taken and simply ignored multiple rounds. He'd see some disturbing internet videos, witnessed how just one or two bullets could drop even the strongest man like a limp sack of potatoes, but this woman didn't care. She just kept coming. Finally, as the police trained their aim on her head, she finally fell limp, the headshot draining her body of all life. Gideon sat back, taking a deep breath and a sip of water. "Christ, that kinda fucked up my appetite." "C'mon, G. We've shown you worse than that stuff." chuckled Carter. Carter, with his very short blonde hair, brown eyes, and red, slightly sunburned pale skin, stretched out in his seat, and began to sip the lemonade the waitress had just placed, as Jesus and David ordered their food. "I dunno, dude, I've never seen someone take bullets like that. Plus, it looked like that one dude got bit or shot in the neck? What the fuck is going on in that clip, dude?!" Gideon chuckled nervously, as he took another sip of his water. Jesus, an older, early thirties, man of Hispanic descent, with short salt and pepper hair and long, survivalist style beard, spoke up after handing his menu to the waitress." My wife sent me that video, she said she thinks they have rabies or something." "Rabies? Rabies don't make you eat bullets like that, dude." "Can people even get rabies? I thought that was just bats and dogs and shit." "Yes, people can get rabies, dude. But usually, it just makes them hydrophobic and all shaky, I've never seen rabies do that to someone. That's freaky dude. Way too fuckin' freaky." As Gideon's eyes began to wander, he noticed that some of the patrons had asked to change the channel on one of the cafe's TVs, and turned it to the news. On the channel, a Special Report was airing, covering the same video that Gideon had just watched. Apparently the scene was still hectic, and the police had cordoned off the neighborhood, and residents were on lockdown. The table of four men had all craned their necks to watch the report, as did most of the patrons in the cafe. Suddenly, Jesus raised a pointed finger, and began speaking to the table, "Oh, holy shit! I know why I recognize that place! That's where my sister-in-law lives!" He dropped his pointing hand, and pulled out his phone. "You're telling me your wife didn't notice that the first time around?" "I guess not, bro. But she just texted me the same thing, I guess she was watching the news too." He paused, with his eyes scanning over his phone for a second."She says her sister hasn't sent her anything yet, but she's about to call her. That's crazy shit dude, I wonder if she saw it all." "Shiet, dude, you sure that wasn't the one taking all those shots in that video? David joked. Jesus gave him a playful punch in the shoulder, which drew a laugh out of David. "That shit ain't funny, bro. But no, my wife's sister is even more Mexican than me, she's dark skinned. The lady in that video looked white or something. She didn't look like my sister-in-law." Gideon chuckled to himself, but the table's conversation was cut short by the arrival of their steaming bowls of ramen, which they were more than ready to dig into.</s>
<|message|>Mahrie Lizbeth Beaulieu (Mah-ree Bow-li-yoo) Lunchtime. It was an everyday thing for the kids of the orphanage to eat at a large table in the main dining room, allowing the volunteers to keep track of all of the younger, squirmier kids while the older ones finished their meals and helped clean. Mahrie hadn't been feeling well that day, so after a little bit of bugging, she stayed home from school and joined the rest of the kids at the table. An old, twelve-inch CRT television sat not far away from the large wooden dining table, in view for all of the children to watch cartoons while they ate. Today though, it had been turned to the Channel 5 News. The weather was supposed to be nice this weekend, so the volunteers were planning a trip to the park, but first they needed to make sure the weather would be nice enough. "We interrupt the weather report to bring you Breaking News." Many of the younger kids were too busy chatting and playing with their food to notice the television, but many of the older kids and volunteers looked over at the scene change. Mahrie watched the television closely, one hand marking her stopping point in her book and the other holding a spoonful of Campbells Chicken & Stars soup. She put the spoon in her mouth, her eyes glued on the television as the commentator explained details of a deadly shooting in one of the nicer neighborhoods in town. Mahrie recognized the house, the kids usually passed by it during Halloween, or stopped in the neighborhood during Christmas to sing carols. It didn't take long for one of the volunteers to walk over to the television and turn it off, shaking her head as she walked back to the kitchen. "People these days. What is the world coming to?" one of the volunteers asked, placing a paper towel and a piece of toast down in front of Mahrie. "Everything the news has to show is all violence and killing. It's sad." Mahrie sat silently for a few moments, her finger slipping from her book, as her mind wandered. She thought about the people who had lived in that home, she remembered their faces. She imagined them both gone, nonexistent from the world. What had happened? Were they both dead? The girl was caught up in a self-made trance, a little wistful at the thought of not seeing those people anymore. But before her thoughts got too far, a voice snapped her back into reality. "Mahrie, dear, eat your soup, before it gets cold." Mahrie blinked a couple times, looking down at the silver spoon that was resting in her bowl, barely gripped by her fingers. "Oh, sorry. I- I forgot." "It's alright dear. Just let me know if you want more, but if you're still not feeling well, you don't have to finish it." The young girl nodded as she glanced back down at her book, searching for her stopping point while taking another spoonful of Chicken & Stars.</s>
<|description|>Allison "Allie" Márquez. Allie /// Tiferet "Man, y'all need to learn to have some fun. Live a little! Or don't, as the case may be." O V E R V I E W A V A T A R Tiferet. A G E 19. G E N D E R Female. V I S A G E In-game, Tiferet stands at about 5'3" and 140 pounds, putting her on the petite side. However, this is far from the first thing one would probably notice about Tiferet, which instead is her rather morbid fashion sense; much of her gear is adorned with bones, crosses, and Day of the Dead-esque skeletons, and her face is often adorned with skull makeup as well. Even her fiddle is black and white. This all stems from Tiferet's desire to know what exactly it's like on the "other side". P E R S O N A L I T Y Allie is an… odd individual. Contrary to what one may expect, she's very lively and gregarious, and absolutely loves trying out everything life has to offer. She's driven by knowledge; specifically, wanting to know everything, including the unknowable, like "what happens after you die", "what's at the center of the universe", and "does Finland really exist". Most of the time, this involves buying (or stealing) anything she considers "neat", exploring every little nook and cranny in a given place, and even doing drugs every so often (though she steers clear of the really bad ones; some things just aren't worth experiencing). Her preoccupation with death is also rather unnerving, especially because she's been heard to make a few nonchalant comments about breaking into morgues. (She's probably joking. Probably.) However, this also means that Allie is really nosy; if she thinks someone's saying or doing something that's worth finding out about, she will try to discover more about the situation, whether through eavesdropping, a bit of petty thievery, or even just annoying someone into telling her. Despite her strange clothing choices, obsession with death, and general creepiness, Allie is actually quite a nice person. It takes a lot to make her angry, and even then, she's very quick to let things go. Sometimes, the person who attracts her ire will find themselves subject to some sort of semi-harmless prank, but that's usually the extent of her "wrath". Allie mostly plays Pariah for the social aspect, and loves partying up with people and running quests together. Of course, others may not want her around (you wouldn't believe the number of people who get freaked out by the skull makeup), but they usually come around. B A C K G R O U N D Allie's life has always been pretty stable, if not particularly normal. She was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, to a Mexican father and an African-American mother. Her mom was a high-ranking executive in a prominent tech company, which brought in enough money to allow Mr. Márquez to stay home and raise Allie, and to pursue his dream - being a musician - on the side. Allie was always a very inquisitive child, constantly pestering her parents with questions, especially about their respective lines of work. "Mommy, whatsa headset?", "Hey Daddy, how d'you play the thing that goes 'BWAAAP'?", and so on. Initially, the Márquezes were exasperated by their daughter's need to know everything about everything, but they soon began to enjoy seeing their daughter taking an interest in so much. Her school years progressed with little fanfare, and were soon left behind, though Allie seems to have retained a few things from her middle school goth phase - namely, her fashion choices and obsession with all things dark and deathly. At the moment, she's pursuing a career as a mortician, using her violin skills as a backup. Normally, the salary of your average broke college student isn't enough to buy Pariah, let alone a VR headset, but Mrs. Márquez was nice enough to get them both for Allie as a birthday present this year. A T T R I B U T E S R O L E Mainly support, but with a bit of utility. A F F I L A T I O N Queon. P R O F E S S I O N Wandering musician. Also necromancer, if you believe the rumors. W E A P O N O F C H O I C E A fiddle. It's specially-reinforced with steel to make beaning people with it feasible as a last resort, though Tiferet does also have a short sword on her, making the fiddle a last last resort. Tiferet also considers her voice a weapon. E L E M E N T A L D O M A I N Earth. A R C A N E D O M A I N Enhancement. R O U G H V I R T U A L H I S T O R Y The name Tiferet is usually accompanied by a response of either "Who?" or "Oh yeah, the one skeleton chick, right?" She's mostly known for her… interesting getup, which has gotten her a bit of admiration from the more fashion-oriented players. Another subset of players know her because they happened to come upon one of her "concerts", which generally take place in some dark corner or other; a graveyard, an abandoned building, a graveyard, and suchlike. Yet another sliver know her as a fairly dependable support mage, and speak of her fondly. Finally, there are a few rumors making the rounds (mostly from veteran to newbie) about a ghostly woman with a violin, who sang the most beautiful, haunting song you've ever heard, then disappeared into the mist. Were one to ask Tiferet, she'd likely just drop a comment about "It's a fiddle, actually" and then move on. All of these, taken together, make Tiferet known, at least, though she's far from a household name.</s> <|message|>Eileen Fang Ailanthus_Altissima• The Dungeon • --- "Shit, shit, shit, boss room, boss room, boss room..." Tessa thought to herself as the party entered the massive hall. On-edge the whole trek, Tessa had said very little and went a bit overkill with her offensive spells whenever a goblin so much as peeked around a corner. Every threat, no matter the size, absolutely had to be nullified immediately. Tessa thought to herself before remember a surefire method for getting out of a maze, the right-hand rule. "We should go right," She said with some confidence, before looking down at her feet in confusion. ...or was it the left-hand rule? Before she had time to figure out the algorithm in her head, a small rat ran out from a crack in the wall. Instinctively, Tessa cast Kinetic Chains, causing the web of chains that followed her to send out a wave, like someone whipping a jump rope, in all directions, doing a mild amount of damage, but used mostly as a pushback, to keep enemies away from her squishier allies. What she didn't account for however, was the din this caused, as the rattling of the chains echoed in raucous cacophony through stone halls. The rat of course, died, it's carcass limply tossed aside by the force of the spell as the noise continued to travel away from the party in all available directions. "...shit..."</s> <|message|>Andrew Matthews Gray G R A V E S --- • Tʜᴇ Dᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ • --- A bone chilling breeze swept in from above, rattling the chains that hung down from the vaulted ceiling. Bits of frost gently clung to the darkest corners of the cavernous room as that accursed howling of the wind sent a tingle down the warrior's spine. Graves hadn't noticed just how cold it was in here until he'd stopped moving. He swore it was getting colder with each passing second, too. An irritating fact, considering his character typically neglected to wear a shirt. Pushing passed the inconsequential fact, he turned his attention to finding a way forward. The longer the party tarried here, the greater the risk of another ambush befalling them. Everyone was of a similar mind: this room felt far too empty for comfort. It was the largest they had encountered thus far by a good margin, and they hadn't encountered significant resistance since the floor burst out from underneath them earlier. This was the perfect place for an attack, so it followed that everyone would be on edge. Some of them were a little too on edge, with Tessa sounding like she was somewhere between hyperventilating and having an outright panic attack. Graves turned to look in the control mage's direction just in time to witness her snapping one of her ethereal chains like a bullwhip. Her massive, coiling steel slammed harshly against stone all around them, sending forth a cacophonous roar that echoed through the halls for an uncomfortably long time. Graves froze, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he waited, and listened. He expected to hear her crash followed by a chorus of goblin bellows and ogreish howls and the rushing of feet, yet nothing of the sort came. A disturbing silence was all that followed. The tank glared in Tessa's direction, debating whether or not they would lose anything of value if he beat her into unconsciousness. "Nice." He hissed under his breath, his teeth gnashing together as he held back a torrent of curses and shouts. While the rest of the party was close to losing it, one member decided to break away from the main contingent. Ochre approached the stream of strange liquid that ran throughout the crypt, that curious spark in his eye. He could see that the channel flowed with a strange consistency. It was not as liquid as it appeared from a distance. Whatever odd concoction filled the trench stuck together like glue, churning like a living body but not quite flowing. The closer he got to the stuff, the colder the air about Ochre became, up until his breath was visible beside it. The ogre's tooth touched the blue substance, and immediately became stuck within it. Frost rapidly crept up the enamel, approaching Ochre's fingers with frozen intent and a frightening speed. If he didn't remove his hand from the tooth, Ochre would quickly find his fingers encased in several layers of ice so cold that it burned flesh. The atmosphere in the room shifted. The temperature plummeted as the wind picked up, it's ghostly howl violently shaking and rattling the chains throughout the cavern. Before them, that river of an unknown concoction began to dance. It shook and grew as the liquid almost seemed to come alive with activity. The slimy substance lurched out of the trench, grabbing forth at cool stone as it dragged itself from the channel. Frost slimes split apart, forming individual entities numbering well into the dozens. Each voluminous blob stood at roughly two feet in height and less than half that in width. They climbed from their resting place, clinging to the floor as they started to crawl toward the nearest living things. Compelled to snuff out the heat in their warm bodies, those icy demons came at them from all sides. Some clung to the pillars and walls, ascending into the air so that they could leap at the party from above. Others formed grotesque, makeshift limbs from their opaque bodies, using them tear off their own liquid flesh and using those slime balls as projectiles. Wherever they roamed, the slimes left a trail of frost and ice in their wake. Ice that seemed to be spreading independent of the slimes' movements, covering the floor in a slippery obstacle that made moving in certain areas quite difficult for those intrepid heroes. "Everybody form up!" Graves screamed above the roar of the wind, his throat raw as his heart pounded in his bared chest. They were surrounded on all sides by enemies that would be an absolute bitch to fight with physical attacks. The amount of maneuverable space was quickly drying up as ice formed throughout the room. Worst of all, however, was the frigid air clinging to his pants. "Back to back, make a circle! And for Christ sake, Red, start frying these assholes!"</s>
<|message|>Allison "Allie" Márquez. T i f e r e t • Tʜᴇ Dᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ • --- As everyone talked amongst themselves about where to go, Tiferet scooted back into the middle of the group, hoping to leech off of their body heat a bit. It was starting to get chilly in here, at kind of an alarming rate, and her current clothing was not exactly made for colder weather. The one time I decide not to equip my sweater. The one damn time... While Tif groused and grumbled to herself, she took in the room they were in a second time. Chains hung from the ceiling and walls, seemingly randomly-placed, and the dim sunlight illuminating the crypt revealed practically nothing, not even any dust swirling through the air. Tif felt a thrill run down her spine, independent of the cold. She loved it when game designers had a proper sense of atmosphere. Her delight was quickly turned to dismay as she noticed frost beginning to form on some of the chains, and a slight breeze starting to pick up. She couldn't help but let out a soft grumble (more like a whimper) at the sight. I'm a Louisiana gal, damnit! I can't deal with temperatures below 60, let alone actual ice and shit! She was really starting to regret not bringing that sweater... All thoughts of the weather were driven from her mind, however, at the massive CLANG-ANG-Ang-ang... that sounded from practically right next to her. Tif practically leapt out of her skin at the sudden ringing, and looked over to see Tessa, her chains out and active, and the corpse of a rat flying away from her. It wasn't difficult to see what had happened. Tiferet's metaphorical hackles immediately went up. She quietly readied her fiddle, ready to start playing at any sign of danger. She didn't have to wait long. The wind picked up incredibly quickly, turning into a gale that just about tore the fiddle from her hands. Frost slimes, the bane of lightly-dressed players everywhere, started crawling out of the trenches, dozens of them. Tif didn't even give herself time to think, but instead launched into a favorite support spell of hers, <Kronos>, granting her allies a bit of extra speed in both movement and casting times. The wind practically covered it all up, but they didn't need to hear the song to benefit, fortunately. Out of the corner of her eye, she also noticed Ochre, who was suddenly in rapid danger of being frozen. Tif shouted over the wind at him, "Watch those fingers, Ochre!", before aiming her fiddle at the ogre tooth and adding a little flourish to her playing, which cast <Irondust>. There was a brief flash at the pointed end of Tif's fiddle, before it expelled a small pebble with frightening speed. Hopefully, that would be enough to shatter the ice (or the tooth, whichever) and give Ochre enough time to escape.</s>
<|description|>Lincoln "Link" Malloy The Finger Age: 31 Gender: Male Description or Image: Long brunette hair, blue eyes, semi-athletic build. Link stands at about 6'1" and typically has a grungy attire. Alias/Nick Name: The Finger Background & Reason for Joining: Link discovered his ability on accident during a particularly memorable guitar riff with his band, Identical Snowflakes. Ever since, he has used it to enhance his rock shows during gigs and bring about righteous justice in his off hours. There is a certain thrill that comes from giving a criminal (or just a total total jerk) their comeuppance. When Link can get involved, he does and when he learned of an opportunity to put his unique skills to work on a grander scale, he leapt at it (mostly because he's hoping it will come with a regular paycheck as he is habitually 'in between jobs'). Personality: Link is every bit the rock n' roll blasting, profanity slinging, shamelessly womanizing, alcohol drinking, smoke 'em if you got 'em type of laid back dude. However, he does have a moral code and a sense of justice that he cannot ignore. Fun loving most times, but serious when he needs to be, Link can certainly be an asset when properly motivated. Powers & Weaknesses: Link's super hero moniker comes from his very specific unique attributes. The middle fingers on each of his hands are supernaturally gifted. They can grow, stretch, regenerate and alter their density. If they are ever damaged or severed, they would heal rather quickly. Were he to will it, his middle fingers can grow and harden, becoming bludgeoning instruments similar to baseball bats. He could also stretch them into points like a pair of animated fleshy needles capable of piercing. The elasticity of the fingers has its limits, but they can be used to subdue and constrict criminals like a python would, or even act as grappling hooks to help Link traverse heights and cityscapes. The rest of his body, however, is absolutely human and, otherwise, unremarkable. While his middle fingers can regenerate, if you were to cut off his leg, it would have the same result as anyone else whose leg got cut off. If you shot him, he'd be in grave danger. He has every weakness a common human has.</s> <|message|>Talia Rose Okay that's cool and definitely useful for something like this, Talia thought as she watched the man by the window display his claws and bounce abilities. She wondered what his gas mask thing did, but then decided that was probably really obvious and that she'd look stupid for asking about it. Also, she began to wish she had the ability to have some claws that could just pop out of her hands because that just sounded awesome. However, when it came to The Finger showing his skill to them all, she couldn't help but start slightly and then laugh out loud. Her laugh was soft but audible and trained, just like the rest of her, to be ladylike and gentle and graceful. God, how Talia wished to just be able to talk and sound and act like the rest of humanity. They seemed so free to be themselves. "Sorry," she said to the others, feeling the need to apologize even for that. "It's just... I honestly did not expect that but should be interesting." She took a breath then turned to Manny and also took one of the earpieces carefully for herself, saying a sweet "thank you" as she did so before turning back to the others. "Well, it so happens I can indeed be the perfect Cinderella," she said with a hint of a semi-forced smile. "But I'm a ribbon dancer and if anyone here does not know what that is, it is a display on stage of a lot of acrobatics and some skill. I cannot reveal very much here, as it is not a lot of space to work in without umm knocking things over," she finished with an actual, amused smile this time. Then she took off the jacket and placed it onto the arm of a chair and removed the ribbons from her bag. Breathe. Ignore their stares. This was nothing more than another performance, she thought to herself. With that, she began twirling the ribbons about in expert, controlled movements that whipped and whistled above their heads and to sweep the floor as she herself twirled and leapt about, circling the group, making such use of the space that the size of the apartment seemed to be forgotten. It would be clear to the onlookers, that she had control of the entire room similar to how an actual performer could command the stage but also literal control as the ribbons whipped around and energies swirled. It seemed as though she was in control of the forces, bending them to her will, but in fact she worked in tandem with them: a cooperative, enchanted performance. Afterwards, she stopped and stepped up closer to them all again and showed each the thickness and strength of the sheer fabric, a material that was not fragile at all, and also the razor-tipped metal edges that she had had sewn into the fabric itself to make the whip-like ribbons a weapon, capable of stripping skin and slicing through other materials as well. "I know it doesn't seem like much," she said, her confidence temporarily fueled by the performer she was, "but I have even been able to suspend my entire weight by these so they are not just weapons, but I can send them out and swing from them too. Also, if you take a look around, you'll notice that nothing and no one is damaged even though I whipped them around each of us. I hope that is a satisfactory performance for you all to still consider me."</s> <|message|>Jacob Richman Bob's expression instantly fell at the mention of inviting his dead friend. Zane would have loved this. He was such a huge fan of the heros and always talked about being one some day. It was Zane that spread the rumors of the Jersey Devil after giving him the mask. Bob just nodded to Manny, and turned with a little more interest at the prospect of knowing what the woman could do. His brow raided again as the woman took of her jacket, and his mind was racing to produce some smart ass comment, though all thoughts stopped as she started her performance. After seeing the razor tips, and the skill in which she used them, he began reconsidering his call for 'dibs' he was going to call out in jest. He was a fan of having all his limbs attached, and didn't think it smart to upset such an apparently dangerous woman. After his surprise wore off, he applauded shortly, looking to the others. "Whelp, I'm sold." And he slips his helmet back on to hide any further betraying facial expressions.</s> <|message|>Lincoln "Link" Malloy Link found himself mesmerized with the calculated, beautiful motions as he watched Talia gracefully do her thing. When it stopped, he found himself impressed and hungered for more, but perhaps the next time he would get to see it would be even more exciting in the heat of the mission. "Seconded," he finally said, agreeing with Bob that she made a surprisingly excellent part of the team. "So this is it, eh? This is us. We are the CHAMPs." A crooked grin grew upon his face. "I mean, if we survive this thing, of course. And why wouldn't we? With the technical might of Manny, the graceful precision of Talia, the agile savagery of Bob and of course the unparalleled superiority of these guys..." he said, flipping up both birds. "...we've got this in the bag."</s> <|message|>Manuel 'Manny' Donaire @myinneroblivion @ShadowsofNight --- Manny was almost vibrating with excitement. There they were, the newly re-formed Council of Heroes Against Malicious Persons, ready to dish up some well deserving Justice to those who escaped the clutches of the long arm of the law. But he had to keep his excitement in check, they were professionals after all. Posing himself up in the most heroic way a nerdy man could while he puts both his hands to his waist triumphantly and clears his throat before speaking. "Well then CHAMPs, lets get it done." Manny then abruptly rushes outside of the cramped room for a good few moments before the overly zealous man sheepishly coming back. "Forgot that nightclubs aren't open during the day. Uhh...I guess I'll see you guys here by 8 pm?"</s>
<|message|>Lincoln "Link" Malloy Link nodded as he pulled himself to his feet. "Hey, yeah, great meeting you all," he said as he began grabbing at the donuts. He lifted one up and help it in his available hand. "I really think this mission is going to go well..." he grabbed another and started cradling it in his elbow. "I mean, how can it not..." and another. "We are skilled as hell..." And another. After nabbing about four, he seemed relatively satisfied. "Welp! I gotta shit," he declared, his go-to phrase for graciously exiting a potentially awkward situation. "See you all in a few hours." With that, he pushed his way out the door before stuffing one of the donuts into his mouth. As he walked down the hallway there seemed to be a little pep in his step. Maybe it was just eagerness. Or could it have been happiness? --- Location: Blame The Beans Gas Station (roughly 1 mile from HQ) Link parked his old black muscle car by pump six and left the engine running while he made his way inside to make a quick gas purchase. He found himself at the back of an already established line with a wrinkled tenner clasped in his fist. "And can I get three of the number nines and, let's see... umm... what else," mused the older gentleman at the front of the queue wearing an old navy blue baseball cap and pointing at a numbered roll of scratch off lottery tickets. There were two other additional people waiting patiently in line ahead of Link ready to finalize their purchases. "Oh god, this is going to take forever," announced the heavy set man who appeared directly behind him. The man then shot Link glance and rolled his eyes dramatically, telegraphing his annoyance. Link gave a small, almost non-existent nod of acknowledgement. He didn't say a word, though. Link hated lines enough as it was. There was no need to add sass and negativity on top. "No, no, not number two. I said I wanted two tickets of number ten," the skinny grandad-looking dude explained to the cashier, his shiny eyeglasses nearly touching the bill of his cap. Link looked him up and down and found himself a little amused. The old fella was wearing a plain white t-shirt with a set of blue suspenders to hold up his jean shorts. Tightly fastened around his waist was a belt that served the same purpose. One way or another, this geezer was not about to let these shorts hit the ground under any circumstances. "C'mon, Gramps! We ain't got all day!" The rude oily-haired fat ass, whose dingy wardrobe looked like it came from a garage sale, bellowed from behind. The old guy either ignored him or never heard him as he continued calling out his lotto shopping list to the attendant. "Dammit, they gotta stop letting people outside on their own after they turn 70," Fatty Scalesbane ranted through his greasy goatee, seemingly addressing Link. The latter refused to engage. He simply kept waiting patiently. "They're so slow, the whole lot of them. And don't get me started on their driving, you know what I mean, man?" This time he gave Link's shoulder a tap, demanding the man's attention. Link's level of agitation was rising. "Sure." The simple response was all he was willing to offer. Finally the older man concluded his sale and shuffled to the store's exit with a healthy stack of lottery tickets shoved into the back pocket of the unpantsable jean shorts. With that, the line moved up a body. Only one person left before Link was at the counter. "Look at him go," wheezed the chunky jackass as he watched the elder shuffle away. "I bet that snail doesn't even make it to his car before I make it to mine." Again, Link's shoulder was met with an infuriating tap. "You know what I'm sayin', guy? Ha! I wouldn't even have to run!" "Iseriouslydoubtyoucouldrun," Link whispered under his breath. "What did you say?" balked the jackass. "Nothing. Great joke. You're real witty." The customer in front of Link stepped away from the counter, finally clearing the way for him to approach the cashier. "Hey, man, you got a problem?" Hefty Henry was clearly starting to get riled up. In a fight, Link had no doubt he would dominate the guy, but who wants to have to deal with that? Instead, linked moved up and tossed his ten dollar bill to the attendant. "Can I just get that on pump six, please?" He requested. The cashier nodded and began to ring him up. Having no need for a receipt, Link started toward the exit. However, he found himself abruptly stopped as an open hand planted firmly into his chest. "Yo, I'm talking to you! Don't you walk away from me. The fuck did you just say a second ago?" He was nearly yelling at this point. Everyone else in the little store looked on as if they were watching a movie play out in real life. There were two ways to go about this. Match the aggression, stoke the fire, turn this into an all-out brawl, become a criminal, get arrested, get a court date, pay money you don't have or get locked up for some time you can't spare. Or... acknowledge that you'll probably never meet this poor excuse for a person ever again and diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. "You're right, bud," Link finally conceded. "Slow, inconsiderate, idiotic humans should definitely be systematically killed off so they won't bother the rest of us anymore. I don't think we need to wait until 70 though. Seems a little too long for those types. We can come up with a better number. Hey, how old are you? Doesn't matter, I guess. Welp! I've gotta shit." Link pushed the human bowling ball's hand off of his chest and made his exit toward the parking lot. As he walked over to gas pump number 6, he slowed his pace down to a complete halt. His car was gone. As he looked around frantically, he heard an engine rev and then the sound of screeching tires. He knew that engine intimately. That was his car. As he tried to find the source, the black 90s coup shot passed him. Hanging out the driver's side window was an arm waving around a navy blue baseball cap like a flag. Connected to that arm was the spectacled old man squealing with glee as he sent the gas pedal to the floor. In seconds, the car was out of the lot and then out of sight altogether. Link just stood there in utter disbelief. His brain could not compute. Finally, he just burst out, "FUCKING OLD PEOPLE!"</s>
<|description|>Carnel Novell Sex: Male Age: 19 House: Dark Magician House Duel Disk: A dark brown body with a purple blade. Personality: Carnel is normally seen as a chill and polite guy, perhaps best described as being a gentleman. Wherever he goes, he greets people with kind smiles and polite greetings. If disputes happen around him, he usually takes the time to try to defuse them and make everyone smile again. He may even make an occasional joke if the situation is appropriate. Underneath, however, Carnel is a guy who is easily irritated. Rarely does he find someone he thinks he can trust, and dislikes a certain label that was often placed on him at home. While he maintains a calm demeanor, oftentimes there is a twitch that gives away that part of his nature, usually an eyebrow twitch or a sudden clench of his fist. History: Carnel was born into a rich family, and given anything his parents could give him. Food, clothing, toys, you name it. He grew in such a fashion along with his older brother, Vincent. One day, a special gift was given to him: his very first Duel Monsters deck. Carnel was curious as to what it was at first, but as he learned more about Duel Monsters, he was ecstatic. As he grew, his love for Duel Monsters grew as well. His brother had taken Duel Monsters as a career and grew to be a famous Duelist. Carnel wanted to be like his brother, and use his love for Duel Monsters for a career in the pro scene. Many saw this as Carnel wanting to catch up to his brother. As a result, they began to compare Carnel to his brother, and it was the same wherever he went. At first, Carnel didn't mind, but as time passed, Carnel began to notice this, and saw how few people recognized his own achievements. It was always "Vincent's brother" this and "Vincent's brother" that. Carnel couldn't stand it. Eventually, he managed to secure an application to Saotome Duel Institute, where he planned to carve his own path, hopefully without being compared to his brother again. Wish: To be recognized as a Duelist, and not a person in the shadow of his brother. Spell Card Name: Grinding Levels Type: Normal Effect: Return 1 "LV" monster from your hand to your Deck. Draw 2 cards. Monsters: 19 Destiny Hero - Plasma x 1 Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV8 x 1 Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV6 x 2 Horus the Black Flame Dragon LV4 x 2 Grinder Golem x 1 Lava Golem x 1 Jinzo x 1 Cardcar D x 1 Cyber Valley x 1 Dandylion x 1 Spell Stryker x 2 Spirit Reaper x 2 Battle Fader x 1 Cosmic Compass x 1 Elemental HERO Stratos x 1 Spells: 16 Pot of Greed x 1 *Grinding Levels x 1 Level Up! x 1 Scapegoat x 2 Mystical Space Typhoon x 1 Fires of Doomsday x 2 Fiend's Sanctuary x 2 Swords of Revealing Light x 1 Pot of Duality x 2 Forbidden Lance x 2 Level Modulation x 1 Traps: 5 Royal Decree x 3 Trap Stun x 1 Breakthrough Skill x 1 Prime Material Dragon x 1 Forbidden Chalice x 1 Forbidden Dress x 2 Raigeki x 1 Waboku x 1 Effect Veiler x 2 Ghost Ogre & Snow Rabbit x 1 Scapeghost x 2 Mirror Force x 1 Dark Bribe x 1 Marshmallon x 1 Marshmallon Glasses x 1 Pot of Greed E-HERO Stratos Scapegoat Battle Fader</s> <|message|>Taiyo Hoshimi "Alright." He placed his hand on the monster in his extra monster zone, smiling soundly. "I tribute my Hot Red Dragon Archfiend." As the form of the fiendish dragon sunk to the depths of darkness, it left Taiyo with a single monster on the field and one card in his hand. "You know, it's rare to see another Archfiend duelist. They aren't nearly as popular as other archetypes." Taiyo commented, truly curious about his opponent's choice of cards. "Why do you like them?"</s> <|message|>Fyodor Leo Konstantinovich (insists on being called 'The Ghoulish Rider, Traveler of the Highway of Hell'. Yes, in full.) "Okay yes, I er..." grumbled out the Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell as the Night Assailant successfully pulled of its assasination. But of course it wouldn't last all that long. "Dokurorider Heisei - Absolute Sovereign of the Damned never truly leaves his domain; well at least not that easily. I'm banishing the younger Dokurorider from my Graveyard for Dokurorider Heisei's special ability." Engines blared as Dokurorider Heisei - Absolute Sovereign of the Damned returned back to the field.</s> <|message|>Carnel Novell "My turn!" Carnel declared as he drew his next card. "I Summon Cyber Valley in Defense Position." A metallic serpent-like machine appeared on the field in all its 0 DEF glory. "I also activate Cyber Valley's second effect. By banishing it and another monster I control, I can draw 2 cards," Carnel explained, banishing Cyber Valley and Battle Fader, drawing 2 cards afterwards. Carnel no longer had an optimal hand, and probably wouldn't have one for the remainder of the Duel, but he was not about to go down without a fight. "By banishing Scapegoat from my Graveyard, I can Special Summon Spell Striker from my hand," Carnel said, the little warrior with a wand appearing on the field. "Spell Striker, attack Ojama King!" Carnel commanded, and Spell Striker rushed forward with no fear despite the 2800 ATK difference. The spectators were in a mad chatter, wondering why Carnel would do something so ridiculously stupid. Carnel paid them no mind, instead continuing, "I also activate a Quick-Play Spell card from my hand: Forbidden Lance! This prevents other Spells and Traps from affecting the monster I target while decreasing their ATK by 800, and I target Ojama King!" A lance materialized in Ojama King's hands, and since Ojama King's ATK was merely its DEF reversed by Ojama Country, its ATK was sent straight back down to 0. A pitiful 200 ATK from Spell Striker was hardly any damage, but it was still more than enough to take down Ojama King in that state.</s> <|message|>Fushi Ryunosuke, Phantom Duelist of Saotome Academy "I'm the one whose supposed to be master of archfiends! Nobody has this card, Archfiend Reverse, which has won me more games than I can count. Like I said, I'm the one true user of archfiends! You're just some poser!" Tsunozuka bantered. "Battle!" he screamed. "Archfiend Reverse, destroy his face-down monster!" Bug "Because of the effect of Palace of Dark Illusions, my monsters can return to the shadows. I flip Night Assailant face-down once more. Then, I set another card face-down. I'll activate the card Yellow Luster Shield!" he declared. His monsters could not be seen, but there was certainly something lurking underneath his palace of Dark Illusions. Surrounding the castle was a pale, yellow forcefield. "I'm not done yet! I'll set one card and end my turn!" he said. There was one card in his hand. Player Killer of Darkness Side Hand: 1 card ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (YL Shield) - ST (???) - ST (empty) MM (empty) - MM (empty) - MM (???, LZ) - MM (empty) - MM (???, LZ) (Ghoulish Rider)EM[EMPTY] [LINK PALACE]EM (Panik's) MM (empty) - MM (empty) - MM[EM/SW] (empty) - MM (Dokurorider Heisei) - MM[EM/SE] (empty) ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of Highway of Hell Side "Good!" Manjoume applauded with his then empty hand. "Now you have a monster on the field and the only monster I have has zero attack points. After that attack, I'm at a measly 200 life points. If I can draw a monster though, I might be able to turn this one around right? All monsters in this deck have 0 attack. Does that mean I'm cocky? Probably." He bantered. "Draw!" he declared. "A friend of mine's, he used to always draw the right card at the right time. Well, all but once I can remember, but that's a story for later. I'll activate the spell card, Fusion Recovery. It allows me to add one monster used as a fusion material and one polymerization from my graveyard to my hand." The duelist apparently swatted away at the air. "Yeah yeah. I get it." he seemed to talk to himself. "Sorry. I discard Ojama Yellow using the effect of Ojama Country, allowing me to special summon Ojama King back from the graveyard! Our attack and defense point values are now reversed. Battle. Snowman Eater, attack his Spell Striker! Ojama King, attack his life points directly!" "Because of Spell Striker's effect, I take zero Battle Damage from Snowman Eater's attack," Carnel explained after Spell Striker got eaten and destroyed. However, he had no further defenses against Ojama King, taking the full 3000 damage. "Go ahead."</s> <|message|>Fyodor Leo Konstantinovich (insists on being called 'The Ghoulish Rider, Traveler of the Highway of Hell'. Yes, in full.) "Very well." spoke The Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell as he wandered through the dark forest; away from the pale and slight glow underneath the Palace of Dark Illusions. Drawing the card that he placed on the top of his deck earlier, Fyodor knew what to do with it. The enigmatic motorcyclist clad in riddles of black instinctively placed the card he had drawn onto the field. A monster was Set down into the shadows blending with it. Konstantinovich took this moment to simply listen to these dark woods. After about a minute of nothing but listening, this 'Prophet of Hell' began to sermonize as he clasped his hands in prayer. "Glorious Old Scratch I hope you enjoy this match. Blessed be this hallowed night Lit only by your sight. The Everpowerful Morningstar Beckons despite your form being so afar. Much strength is yours to command From both the Orders Old and New Hell on Earth will be at hand. Yet only one Priest will make it through..." "Player Killer of Darkness, I am Lucifer's True Prophet. I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL I SHOW YOU THE ABSOLUTE POWER OF MY FAITH!Alsotoavengethebitsofmydamagedclotheswhichthreatenstorevealmyidentitytoosoon...NOW GO FORTH DOKURORIDER HEISEI - ABSOLUTE SOVEREIGN OF THE DAMNED! Go into the shadows and seek your prey!" Heisei's motorcycle roared as the Absolute Sovereign of the Damned rushed straight through to the pale yellow barrier to find and destroy one of the monsters hiding within. (Feel free to pick the target of Dokurorider Heisei's attack) Player Killer of Darkness Side ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) MM (empty) - MM (empty) - MM (???, LZ) - MM (empty) - MM (???, LZ) (Ghoulish Rider)EM[empty] [LINK PALACE]EM (Panik's) MM (empty) - MM (empty) - MM[EM/SW] (Dokurorider Heisei) - MM (???) - MM[EM/SE] (empty) ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) - ST (empty) Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of Highway of Hell Side</s>
<|message|>Carnel Novell "My turn!" Carnel said as he drew his next card. Carnel was well aware that his deck no longer had the means to reverse the situation he was in. His final draw, Destiny HERO - Plasma, was certainly not going to help him either. He had zero defenses left on the board, and no way to rebuild them. Carnel knew what came next. "I guess it's your win," Carnel addressed Manjoume. "Turn End. Give me the final blow."</s>
<|description|>Claire Dunn Age: 24 Appearance: Profession: Lion tamer Bio: Claire was abandoned on the doorstep of an orphanage at a young age, but ended up running away with a friend of hers when she was 8, because she hated living there. The two joined the circus who'd arrived in town and was allowed to travel with the circus as long as they made themselves useful. Claire was amazed by all the animals at the circus, but especially the lions and the tigers. She became the apprentice of the current lion tamer and learned everything from him. In time, he left the circus to settle down and start a family, by then Claire had to take over as the circus' lion tamer. She's got some horrifying scars on her arms and legs, but that was from when she was careless and inexperienced. She smells like one of the big cats herself most of the time, and she's recognized as one of them by now. Name: Elena Dragomirov Age: 47 Appearance: Profession: Circus director/Magician Bio: Elena is russian and took over the circus about ten years ago. She used to be the circus magician before that. There's not a lot more known about her. There's rumours that her magic is more than just tricks and illusions. Name: Solomon Age: 6 Appearance:</s> <|message|>Claire Dunn Claire blushed fiercely after she had heard the conversation between Elijah and Kate. She pressed her face against Kate's shoulder as if to escape and hide from the consequences of the nightmare. It took her a while to realize she was pressing herself against the person who made her want to sink into the earth to begin with. She didn't actually want to hide from Kate, but how was she supposed to react to the two of them talking about how they had kissed in some strange shared dream. Elijah probably knew Claire had returned the kiss as well, since he'd been there watching. They probably thought it was funny. Claire had found it funnier when Kate had been so bothered about groping her in her sleep and lied about how she hadn't done it intentionally. The thought made her very aware of how their two bodies were touching one another. Claire lay on top of Kate, gravity pressing her body down on the other woman's body. Their bosoms were pressed together, and their legs were intertwined. It wasn't the first time she'd slept with Kate, but now it took on a whole other meaning. She'd never slept with Kate like a man would sleep with a woman. Women weren't supposed to be doing such things with each other, were they? She wondered when Kate had first realized she wanted to touch and kiss her. Had it been when they were younger? They had had more than a few sleepovers in each other's wagons, laughing and having fun. Claire had compared her body to Kate's, because she thought it was more attractive and she seemed to be attracting more attention from boys. She blushed when she remembered asking Kate if she thought she was attractive, as she had been wearing nothing else than her nightgown. Maybe the rumours about the two of them being involved like that had never been Claire's fault as she had assumed. People always talked more about her than Kate as far as she could tell, so it had been logical to assume they thought Claire was a pervert. They said she slept with her big cats after all, but maybe they had known something about Kate she had not. A stranger thought made her feel warm inside, because someone wanted to touch and kiss her. No one had confessed to wanting to do that before. She was scared of what would happen if anyone else found out about it. She shouldn't be having such thoughts about female friends, but now she knew Kate was and had been thinking about her like that. Claire kept her eyes shut though, as all these thoughts rushed through her head, so she figured she could continue pretending to be asleep. She soon begun to fake her snoring, as if to make the other two believe she was fast asleep.</s> <|message|>Kathryn McIntire Elijah shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the ground, piddling with a few blades of grass as he pondered. What in the world would cause them all to share the same nightmare? It was a mystery to him, but he was beginning to look at the bigger picture, the strange events that had been occurring around the circus. First had been the horrific incident with his and Kate's act. That had never happened before, sure she had nicked him before but nothing ever came close to his carotid like that had. It was almost as if the knife had strayed from its path, an invisible breath of air that sent it a few centimeters off course, right into his throat. The following acts all experienced similar irregularities, though none were quite as violent. Still... there was something off about each of them. Not to mention the ring master, Elena's final act. It almost looked of witchcraft. The thought made Elijah question the possibility that their boss had something to do with what was occurring. "Something strange is going on here..." He looked at Kate with his brow in a knot. "Do you think it has anything to do with that weird chanting Elena did last night?" Kate shook her head and pressed her lips together in thought, "I don't know. She's done chanting before, it's all part of the act. But that was some strange stuff she was managing to conjure up." Kate felt Claire sink into her and she looked down at her. She looked troubled while she slept. Surely she wasn't still trapped in a nightmare, was she? Or perhaps flung into another? No, otherwise the incident with the tiger would not have been resolved so convincingly. Kate wondered what was bothering her friend, but she decided to let her sleep. After all, she was probably still feeling the effects of her hang over. Her mind wandered to the murder that they had the unfortunate privilege of witnessing earlier. The oddity of it made her wonder, how was such a feat pulled off without leaving a trace? Granted, the police had had little time to investigate much further. Still, she thought that such a bloody ordeal would've definitely resulted in a equally bloody trail to follow. "What of the woman this morning? Do you believe that to be of the same nature?" Kate questioned. He looked down in thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. "If I had to take a guess... yes. I don't see another explanation for it. And that nightmare that we were all thrown into? Together, no less? It all has to be related, so many freaky events could hardly be coincidental." "Well if that's the case, we need to get to the bottom of what's happening. At least to save our own skins. I don't know about you, but I'm not fond of the idea of being thrown into a demented nightmare every time I close my eyes." Elijah shook his head with widened eyes, "Oh, hell no." Kate laughed lightly, trying not to disturb Claire who soon started snoring. Something sounded off though... Claire wasn't usually a snorer. At least not like that, to Kate's knowledge. She narrowed her eyes at the woman in her lap and patted her. "Claire... I know you aren't sleeping anymore. Wake up, would ya?" She gently shook her friend, "We've got some stuff to talk about."</s> <|message|>Claire Dunn Claire listened to them speak, and thankfully they changed the subject away from what had happened in the dream. Maybe Elijah hadn't noticed how Claire had returned the kiss after all, or they just didn't want to talk about it when she was right there. Maybe they'd prefer talking about it behind her back like everyone else. The topic they talked about concerned Claire as well. If there were truly something sinister and evil going on at the circus, then it concerned all of them. She had to wonder if Elena had ever meant to take it this far. She didn't particularly like her boss, but she had thought of her as competent and well-meaning up until now. After what had happened, she had to question that though if it turned out that Elena was involved in more ways than one. Claire was surprised by Kate's apparent selfishness. Personally, she wanted most of her circus family to survive as well, not just save her own skin and get away with it. If that was all Kate wanted to do she may as well leave and find another circus, no? She doubted this curse, or whatever it was, had struck them all. She pushed her head against Kate's shoulder when the woman shook her and told her that she knew she wasn't asleep anymore. She couldn't know that for certain, so Claire tried to convince that she was in fact still asleep. Claire kept snoring, even going so far as to make the noises louder. "I am asleep." She muttered, but of course that gave the fact that she wasn't sleeping away. "Oh, bother…" Claire opened her eyes, rolled off of Kate and raised her knees to her head in a sitting position. She wanted to hide, not talk about whatever had happened between them, assuming that was what Kate wanted to talk about. She blushed and looked down at the ground, keeping her head pressed against her knees. "What stuff?" She asked after sitting quiet and motionless for a moment. "I thought we had talked enough for today. There's no need to talk about anything." Claire coughed and stood up. "I can't talk at all. My voice is hoarse and you wouldn't understand what I'm saying. Also, I need to go check on my chores and big cats now." She nodded determinedly and spun around to walk away. "Yup, no need to talk about anything's that happened. It's all a bunch of elaborate illusions." She doubted Kate would take her seriously though. If anything, she might take it as dismissive and rude. As she walked away slowly she felt her cheeks turning hot and she had to stare down at the ground so no one else would notice it. She didn't want Kate to get the wrong idea, but she had to figure out what that was to begin with.</s> <|message|>Kathryn McIntire Kate rolled her eyes when Claire tried to convince them further about her sleeping state. Elijah chuckled and shook his head as he watched Claire roll off of Kate and give up on the antics. He tossed a canteen of water towards Claire, since she had been the one to request it earlier when he had left. Kate sat up after Claire had moved off of her, brushing the grass off of her back and arms. There was a crick in her neck, a result of what she presumed to be sleeping so awkwardly for those hours. Her hand rubbed the base of her neck and she raised an eyebrow at Claire, who seemed to be sitting uncomfortably a few feet away. She wondered if something was bothering her, perhaps what had gone down in the crazy dreamland. Kate didn't have to ponder on it long though, because Claire's sudden ramblings confirmed that something was up. All she could do was hope that her actions hadn't caused some sort of rift between them. That was exactly why she hadn't acted on her emotions beforehand, but she really didn't have a choice in the nightmare if they all wanted to get out of it without going mad first. "Well, we need to-" Kate opened her mouth to respond to Claire but was cut off when the woman decided to talk at an increasingly fast pace. Elijah looked over at her and they exchanged looks of concern and confusion before standing up after Claire. It seemed as though she was just searching for excuses to escape the conversation and get away from the pair, or more particularly, from Kate. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." Kate said as Claire turned around to leave. Regardless of if she was uncomfortable around her, they were all probably better off sticking together considering recent events. Kate quickly closed the distance Claire had made from them and reached her hand out, grabbing Claire's arm to stop her from leaving. "Claire, wait. It isn't wise to just run off by yourself." She realized that she was still holding on to Claire's wrist, and she quickly released her grip, fearing it may just make her want to get away even more. Kate took in a deep breath and sighed. "Look, what happened in the 'illusion' as you call it... I understand if you don't want to talk about it." She shifted uncomfortably on her feet and looked at the ground. "We don't have to talk about that right now. You can pretend like it was all some mind trick, but look at everything that's been happening. Something sinister is going on around here and we need to stick together." Kate looked to Eli for some support, before Claire tried to run off by herself. He nodded his head, "Kate is right. If you want to check on the animals, that is fine. But we should go with you."</s>
<|message|>Claire Dunn Claire stiffened when Kate grabbed her arm. She would have thought Kate would be smart enough to not touch her when she was behaving like this, but maybe the pervert just wanted a chance to grope her again. She did remove her hand again, and Claire felt disgusted with herself for thinking such a thought about her best friend. She had said she would be fine with it if Kate wanted to touch her when they were in the dream. Funny how reality was able to mess with her mind and confuse her feelings even more than a nightmare. Claire listened to what Kate and Elijah had to say, with her head turned, not looking directly at them. She didn't know if what Kate suggested she do what was she wanted to do. How could she not understand that she might need time to process everything that had happened? Maybe Claire needed to tell her to back off and give her a chance to think, because at least then she would be left alone long enough to consider the odd prospect of them being more than friends. "I never said that's what I wanted, Kate. Maybe you need to stop talking long enough for the rest of us to think!" She muttered. "That's what I want to do, so leave me alone to do so." She wanted to walk off and leave them standing there, but then they had some good points. Someone had just been murdered brutally, and that wasn't the only unexplainable event that had taken place lately. Claire could claim they were illusions all she wanted, but it clearly would not stop them from hurting her or possibly ending her life. "Fine then. I suppose sticking together is best for now if you're afraid of being alone." Claire finally said and sighed. They needed her with them more than she needed them with her when she had her big cats. "I wouldn't be alone either way though. I've got my family of kittens to protect me. Maybe they'd protect you too if you behave." Claire straightened her clothes, and then she headed towards the part of the circus where the animals where kept. There should be nothing to fear. She wanted to think it so badly that she would likely think it until death was staring her in the face. She could try to escape with her cats, but this was her home. "What do you suggest we do then?" She asked, going back to the conversation they had had about how they should get to the bottom of things.</s>
<|description|>Kara O'Hara Talent: Dessert Chef Gender: Female Appearance: At only four foot eleven, it isn't strange that everyone else towers over her. But even though Kara has been a teenager for quite a few years now, she can't help but use her short stature to her advantage. She continues to wear anything to complement her cute aesthetic, commonly wearing a plaid blue ruffle dress with a matching blue ribbon tied on her head. Along with her ribbon, she keeps her hair in curled pigtail braids. At the back of her outfit, there are two soft angel wings sewn into a cute maroon backpack, a surprise addition to her bright getup, but Kara often forgets they're even there. With such an outrages outfit, people often think she is the SHSL Cosplayer. Personality: Kara is a sweet girl who wishes to share her pastries together with the world at large. She hates yelling and fighting, believing that all problems can be sorted out over dessert. Because of her condition, the heart problem is triggered by anger or stress and she tries to keep as optimistic as possible. She enjoys hanging out with friends, taking photos to keep as memorabilia and of course, dessert making. She wants to help others out with what strength she has, but her condition often sets her back. She's never able to try all the things she wants to and that has become an extreme insecurity of hers. But Kara loves to live vicariously through other people about adventures and travel. Due to her fascination with Europe, Kara enjoys reading travel magazines and reading books that focus on exploration. Backstory: Kara was born with an irregular heartbeat. Even though it didn't bother her much as a kid, her mother pressed to have her stay inside if there was even a slight chance of bad weather. Kara stayed in most of the time as a child and spent time with her grandmother since her mother was always so busy. Her mother then met a man from Japan and had a child, before they decided to move to Japan. Kara didn't want to leave her home with her grandmother and it was decided that the girl would continue to get treatment in the United States while she stayed with her grandmother. The two of them loved to cook together, especially sweets. As she grew into her teens, her symptoms got worse. Kara now suffers from Arrhythmia, specifically Bradycardia. This is when your heartbeat is too slow. It can mean that not enough blood reaches your brain and can cause you to pass out. After spending a few more years being treated by the doctor's in America, she was deemed safe enough to move to live with her parents in Japan. While she was sad to leave her grandmother, the older woman gave her a parting gift and the two of them would frequently send baked goods by mail to each other. After winning a cooking competition at her high school, Kara's talent was written out in the newspaper and wealthy men and women called on her to make her dishes for them, soon gaining them as sponsors. Finally, she was invited to Hope's Peak Academy to continue her studies. Trivia: -Her Grandmother hand stitched her outfit -The first dish she ever made was a plate of chocolate chip cookies with her Grandmother -Dislikes pineapple and mangos -Kara decided to keep her Grandmother's last name instead of her new stepfather's one. Color: color=0072bc Name: Hibiki Matsuo Talent: Tutor Gender: Male Appearance: A bit on the thin side. Hibiki generally wears whatever he feels most comfortable in. He doesn't necessarily have bedhead, but usually lets his hair do whatever it likes, curling up in the weirdest angles. Luckily Hibiki recently got new glasses, otherwise, the boy would have been reduced to wear uncomfortable contacts since his cat had demolished them just a week or two ago. With the spring in full bloom, Hibiki prefers wearing thinner shirts but likes to keep long sleeves on in a failed attempt at keeping his arms unscathed from his tabby's ferocious claws. When in more formal settings, he'll smooth his hair back and wear a button-down shirt, but any other time he prefers his laidback wardrobe, it's much easier to replace. Personality: Hibiki is a rather laid-back individual in both his fashion sense and his way of life. While he loves to help others complete their goals, he has none of his own, letting the road of life lead him wherever it will. In truth, Hibiki only came to Hope's Peak in order to help the other Super highschool level students. Hibiki can be rather enthusiastic in certain situations though. When it comes to animals, he becomes the SHSL cuddler and loves to always be petting some part of their fur. Hibiki is sometimes interested in video games and arts and crafts, but is usually interrupted by the little fiesty feline of his. Backstory: Hibiki is an only child of two career-driven parents, his mother a surgeon and his father a prosecutor. Hibiki never really had anyone to play with as a kid, but when he was younger he found a stray cat pawing at the blinds of his cracked open bedroom window. The boy started taking care of the girl tabby and stealthily took care of her without his parents knowing. As he grew into middle school age, Hibiki started staying at the library since Hana basically slept the day away on his pillow. There he met a few boys younger than him, all struggling in one school subject or another. Hibiki started helping them with their work and their grades skyrocketed. A boy who had been threatening to drop out because of his poor grades was suddenly an A+ student. When the students of his middle school's test scores grew so much that the region recognized the school for its excellence, Hibiki was giving his own after school class and was recognized for his amazing supportive talent. Soon a new friend entered his life, a little tabby named Ritsu that was the baby of the cat that had crawled in all those years ago. Everything seemed to be going well enough and Hibiki was looking into different highschools when he got the invitation to Hope's Peak Academy. Trivia: -Hibiki may in fact like cats a little too much. -Cats always seem to flock to him and use Hibiki as a jungle gym. -Hibiki can sleep anywhere -He hates contact lenses. Color: turqoise</s> <|message|>Iclyn, Snow --- After the mess that was Snow's previous interaction with human beings, her mood had gone downhill rather fast. She was reminded of the narrow-minded ineptitude of every person in existence once more. Right as Snow was willing to give them a chance, they just had to prove her right again. It was almost embarrassing to be part of the same species; humans were truly obnoxious. It was no surprise then that her face contorted in a nasty frown when Damian made the mistake of approaching her. His question immediately put him on her wrong side. If he was sorry for bothering her, why bother her in the first place? That manipulative nice guy behavior ticked her off even more than the amount of space he put between the two, as the guy was obviously keeping some distance out of fear or shame. In any case, Snow was not even slightly interested in this human, and so she simply turned away and kept walking.</s> <|message|>Taka Tsuin / Taya Tsuin Taka Tsuin Taka crossed his arms as Alice introduced herself as the 'Ultimate Knight'. He didn't know much about folklore and history, much less of non-Japanese origin, but it still sounded odd to him. She didn't look much heroic, not the slightest bit. Her awkward way of speaking also meant she probably wasn't used to talking to people, but if this is her standard speech pattern, then it's no wonder. Taka didn't have any reason to distrust the girl, though, so he went along with it anyway. He pocketed one of his hands while he used the other's thumb to point to himself. "Taka Tsuin. Ultimate Cross-dresser. Nice to meetcha." He dropped the thumb and looked towards his left, seeing a crowd of people off in the distance that were busy talking to each other... or something to that effect, anyway. A few of them looked a lot more panicked than the chick in front of him, so at least there was slight comfort in the fact Taka wasn't dealing with someone like them. "Nobody's got a damned clue... Not that Snow chick or that purple-haired asshole. This whole thing's a goddamn mess." The cross-dresser clicked his tongue and looked back to Alice, his expression having softened to a neutral stare. "I saw you were gonna go to the gate over there. Would you mind if I tagged along? I'd like to get some idea of whatever the hell's going on, but everyone I've talked to's been more worried about blamin' and fightin' each other than actually finding out the important stuff."</s> <|message|>Hisakawa, Hiroki Adjusting to the situation has been a bit of a challenge—waking up in the middle of nowhere isn't exactly a comfortable situation, and it isn't one that can be easily handled. Not to mention all of these new people, some of whom had not proven easy to get along with. Having oriented yourself to your surroundings, more or less, there's likely one, pivotal question on your mind—what is going on here, exactly? Wherever you are, you hear a ring of some sort. Looking around and trying to find where it came from, you see a nearby monitor light up, and a figure you can't quite make out comes on screen. "Testing, testing, one two three! Can everybody hear me? Good!" The figure says, waiting for no affirmation, "Now then—Goooooooood morning, campers! If everyone could please meet at the outdoor amphitheater immediately, that'd be just swell! And if you're wondering, it's not optional!" The figure paused, thinking about it for a moment, "Well, actually, it is optional, I suppose. Everything in life is optional, really. But if you want to know what's going on here—more importantly, if you want to know how to get out—then you should come to the meeting! Or maybe go just because I asked so nicely! Upupupu! Either way, I will see you all bear-y soon!" As suddenly as the transmission had started, it ended. Well, at the very least, it seems some questions were about to get answered. If you want those answers, you just head over to the amphitheater, right?</s> <|message|>Davis Gallo Davis and Neola had turned their attention to the monitor. Ignoring the bear that suddenly appeared on screen wasn't really something one could do without a lot of willpower. "The T.V. Turned on!" Neola said this one the teady bear got done talking. "Really?" Davis raised an eyebrow. "We wake up in a strange place with no recollection of how we got here, then some kids show mascot tells us to show up somewhere and..." Davis ran a hand over his face. "The T.V. Turned on?" "O-oh, well, I like TV!" Neola giggled. "I think I might have broken character a little bit. " She would have to be careful about that in the future. But a fear of hers was that none of the monitors would turn on. It was very refreshing to know that they might be able to get a few stations. "It's fine." Davis closed his eyes and shook his head. "Anyway, ladies." Davis's eyes opened with a healthy grin. "I think it's fair to assume that if anyone was going to hurt us, they would have done so already. So it should be safe to see what the bear is talking about." He was already walking. "You can wait here if you'd like, or you can follow me. Doesn't look like it's too far away." Davis did not look like he was going to wait, but he did shoot everyone a wink before marching forth. "Wait, Alex, you're not a girl, are you?" Neola lifted a hand to her mouth. "We'll have to tell Davis later, he might have gotten confused. You are a bit on the skinny side." She scooched closer to Kara. "Anyway, regardless of what happens, I don't think Kara should be left vulnerable. So someone should stay here with Kara if she isn't going to go to the auditorium."</s>
<|message|>Kara O'Hara All of a sudden the girl was in the air, like one moment she was laying unresponsive and the next thing Hibiki knew she was standing. Then again, the sleepiness encompassing Hibiki's brain was making his blinking time slower. By the time he had blinked again she was gone, which should have made the boy's heart race and adrenaline push him into a fight or flight response, yet Hibiki couldn't be bothered. Now done with his first task, Hibiki slid off the stage area and started for the closest building to get something to clear his throat. But he passed the lonely tree he spotted the perpetrator of the movement he had seen earlier. Hibiki hesitated before taking a seat next to her, leaning his head against the tree's trunk. He waved his fingers in front of her eyes, gave a few snaps before giving up and shutting his eyes for a second. His throat was really bothering him though. He gave a huff before seeing how many fallen leaves he could collect in his lap. Suddenly there was a ringing sound from the amphitheater. Getting up reluctantly and wiping off the leaves from his lap, Hibiki finally moved over to the screen, wiping at his glasses. After hearing the message he gave a relieved sigh, not having to go anywhere was definitely a plus, but again, his throat was rather upset at him, must have been from his acid reflux. Again he sat down at the tree, waiting for everyone to arrive and wondering what was up with the other girl. He carefully plucked a fallen leaf off of her hair before collecting more of them around him. --- The strange girl seemed a lot friendlier than before, but Kara was still a little hesitant to think of her as a good person. Her actions earlier would normally land her on the naughty list, but this new version of herself was really peculiar. And she really did seem innocent when she giggled like that... Kara would have to see what else she would do, and Neola did seem entertaining in her own right. As soon as the TV blared on, Kara poked out her head from behind Neola, what was a monitor doing out in the middle of a field anyway. The bear that appeared wasn't exactly to her taste like Lilly's bunny and all too suddenly the small girl remembered where she was. Somewhere she didn't know, surrounded by strangers. A chill slipped down her spine and goosebumps crawled down her arms like hairy spiders wanted to take a bite out of her. The girl's legs started to shake a little and she held onto the front of her dress. Her hand reached out before she could stop it to steady herself, gripping onto Neola's skirt. "I-I'm really worried but... I think I need to see what's going on..." She felt bad about gripping on so hard to the other girl, but it would be bad for her to fall over and ruin her dress. Davis had said that they probably wouldn't hurt them, but was that just for now? Kara's brain played different scenarios of pain in her head which got her heart to race even faster. Wait, no! She needed to calm down before- The Dessert Chef started to pant and pressed her head into Neola's side. It was lucky she wasn't thinking of how embarrassing she was acting or she might have hyperventilated just from that! The poor girl tried thinking happy thoughts, but they were evaporated from her mind as quickly as they came.</s>
<|description|>Irene Ross Personality: Prefers to talk her way out of bad situations, doesn't appreciate interruptions. She is blunt and honest, can't keep a secret and can be a smartass sometimes. She always seems to have something to keep herself occupied with, whether it is maintaining the cactus around "her" isolated house (May its previous owner, now a zombie, find peace), knapping glass into knives or other sharp points, or struggling to get her blacksmithing set up correctly without disfiguring herself. Physical Appearance: Stands at about 5'4, stout with a short messy black ponytail and large, angry-looking brown eyes. She looks like she's made of just fat, but she has a good amount of muscle in there somewhere. She usually has a plain green apron on. It has some stains consisting of both soil and blood. Family: Single child; her parents were druggies and so rarely ever there for her during her childhood. History: Once her parents were hauled off after being caught with some illegal substance or another, Irene was taken to multiple institutions over the years. She turned eighteen at the beginning and quietly slipped away to do some hardcore gardening while everyone around her was killing or being killed. Skills: Gardening (food and herbs), trapping (mostly small animals), knapping glass and very limited metalworking, mostly from found aluminum cans. Gear: A small medical kit, a pair of binoculars, and a good big garden shovel. Goal: To survive in this little house of hers as long as she can.</s> <|message|>Mary Park Mary caught James his bluff, reminding herself that he had told her he had wounds. Would he be able to defend himself at all. She glanced at the man with gun, and frowned. He too, was walking with a big limp. She debated whether to let them know she's a doctor, but she decided against it. "Being a National Guard doesn't mean shit anymore," she called back, her hand on the gun on her thigh, even though the hedge prevented the man with the gun from seeing it. "Though since you ask so nicely" She said as she moved more into view, her lower body still covered by a low part of the hedge but her upper body visible. She noticed James moved in front of her, and that moved her a bit. She softened her voice and turned towards the man with the gun. "We just need a good night sleep and some food. Then we can be out of your hairs again."</s> <|message|>Hunter Monroe Hunter would slightly lower the gun. "National guard may not mean as much to you, but it still means something." Hunter would start walking back to the door then he would look back. "It's not up to me if you stay, it's not my house."</s> <|message|>Irene Ross There was commotion. On her property. Irene felt a vein starting to bulge out of her forehead when she burst out the front door to see two people hanging around outside her hedge of cacti. And hearing the girl's request to stay? Infuriating. Simply infuriating. Did people have no respect? Well...the apocalypse was hardly a time for respect, in their defense. "Put the damn gun away, Hunter," she ordered softly, with something almost like a growl in her voice. She'd already had a run-in with one stranger today and that was enough for her short temper. "We're not an inn!" she shouted.</s> <|message|>Hunter Monroe Hunter would look confused at first. He would then sling the shotgun. "Irene can we talk for a sec?" (Wow...this seems...familiar)</s> <|message|>James C. Houston James Houston - Outside of Irene's place with Hunter, Irene and Mary. James was taken aback by the sight of a small chubby looking woman, complete with an apron. She immediately displayed a strong sense of authority, and James did his best to hide his smile at the sight of the tough looking solider being ordered around by her. "M'am," James said, putting on his best smile. "I don't intend on staying. I just want some food," he nodded over at Mary. "My friend Mary here is looking for what everyone is looking for - safety, or so I think. We don't mean any harm." He threw his tyre iron to the ground, and reached into his overalls to pull out a tin of beans. "It would be mighty grand of you to spare me a tin opener. I haven't eaten in three days, and at this stage, I'm starting to sympathise with the idea of eating people."</s> <|message|>Jonah Smith Jonah took quick steps towards the duo by the strangely well-maintained house. Quietly and quickly, he came close enough to overhear a conversation. The duo he could see were talking to someone inside, and Jonah wasn't rude enough to disturb the conversation. Someone more cultured might shoot him for jumping in! Although he was incredibly hungry and thirsty, he still wouldn't let the end of the world get him down. And as he saw a fantastic opportunity to get more food and water, he waited with patience, knowing that it was too early to ask them for assistance. Even in a calm moment, Jonah concentrated intensely, thinking about what his next steps would be. To begin with, he'd need to attempt negotiation with those inside after those waiting to get in entered. It would mean that he would explain, very bluntly, how much he trusted those inside, how independent he would be of their assistance, and finally how great of a contributor he would make to the emerging group. Suddenly, after hearing the sound of shuffling behind him, Jonah span around, seeing yet another one of the awful creatures that roamed the earth. Like he quickly planned, knocking the poorly balanced creature to the ground before smashing it with his thick, leather boots went quickly, but the sound of a skull getting crushed was quite a bit louder in this instance than it usually is. He quickly looked at those waiting outside, hoping that they didn't notice him eavesdropping. His mind was blank.</s> <|message|>Hunter Monroe Hunter would stop his thoughts when he heard the boy mention the thought of eating people. "You are going to want to rethink what you just said boy, Because that's a step that once you go to, you don't come back." He would turn and face him. "You got it?"</s> <|message|>Irene Ross Irene pinched the bridge of her nose. Well this was just great, wasn't it? There was a frustrated grunt from her. How could she say no? It wasn't exactly a tall request because a can opener had been the first thing she'd looked for when she'd moved in, and of course there had been one. Seething a little at the situation in general, she pointed to the gate. "Come in. I've got a can opener and some water. But not much--" that was a lie-- "so don't guzzle it!"</s> <|message|>James C. Houston James clapped his hands together, "awesome, you rock lady," he said, smiling broadly. "Come on Mary, things are looking up!" He looked over at the soldier, and considered trolling hi- There was a sudden crunching noise, and James looked around. "Huh?" He couldn't see anyone. "You guys hear that?" He reached down and picked up his tyre iron. You could never be too careful, and though what he heard was probably nothing, it was worth checking out. He advanced around the cacti, looking this way and that. It could have been a dead man, but they usually made racket when they were advancing - all groans and moans. He didn't hear any. "Anyone there? Come out. We wont hurt you," he paused to give the soldier a quick glance. "Well, I wont hurt you."</s> <|message|>Hunter Monroe Hunter would glare. "I'm not a murderous monster, ass hole. But I noticed the look you gave me when you got here, So I don't trust you." Hunter would pump the shotgun. "Though, people hiding are hard to trust as well." Hunter would walk to the cacti as well.</s> <|message|>Mary Park Mary stayed silent as James talked. She stared at the woman coming out of the house. The man with the gun called her Irene, and Mary was comforted by the fact that she was a woman. She glanced worried between James and the limp National Guard as they bickered. This was going the wrong way. She gently poked her elbow into the ribs of James to make him shut up. The guard obviously didn't appropriate his humor. She got scared of the seemingly trigger-happy limp guard as he waved around his gun as if it was nothing serious. Though her mood lifted as Irene told them they could come in. She smiled widely and let out an excited yelp as she made her way into the guard, her arm getting poked by a part of the hedge. She held the wound on her arm and stepped into the yard, waiting for James to follow. They could now see her whole body, including her gun. But she wasn't trigger happy and hadn't even used it once, so she hoped they wouldn't see harm in it. Mary was just about to thank Irene for her kindness when she too heard the rustle. She looked in the way James was looking, still holding her stinging arm. She walked towards Irene, her eyes still focused on James and mister trigger happy who approached the cacti, not wanting to be in their way.</s> <|message|>Irene Ross These people are going to be like dogs. If I let them in and feed them, they'll come to expect it. The thought was not a welcome one, but Irene let it pass. She'd kick them out after a day, and if they refused to leave, she supposed she would have to figure out a clever way to murder them in their sleep or something. As necessary as it might become, however, she still didn't find it a pleasant thought to kill people who weren't brain-dead bloodthirsty zombies. She crossed her arms and scanned the cacti with her eyes. Whoever was hiding in there, in the event that it was yet another person and not an injured animal that would probably go well with butter and salt, they would likely be cut up pretty nicely upon leaving the depths of the natural fence.</s> <|message|>Jonah Smith "Excuse me!" Jonah made sure that his first two words were loud and clear. He corrected his posture, standing straight up, then took slow steps towards the group. The air was silent for a few seconds, before Jonah knew precisely what to say. Now, he concentrated intensely on speaking. He stared blankly at the group, using all his mind to focus on the task. "My name is Jonah Smith, and I'm not quite sick of the new world yet. I want you to know that I want nothing more than to explore this brave new world, see all that it has to offer, and return to the old world we loved so much. But there are many tings standing in my way, in our way. We have to think of the future, and I can see that it's great. Because, we humans will stay together, support each other, explore our world, and go from being powerless bugs to becoming rulers of the earth! Certainly, that will happen if you want it to! We can win over this terrible world!" Jonah relaxed his view. He caught his breath, looking at everyone, and waited for the response. I won't be able to take them, but they're armed and uncomfortable. If this goes poorly, I think I'll be able to kill them with minimal damage to myself.</s> <|message|>Mary Park Mary blinked two times as she looked towards James, mister trigger happy and the new guy. What a day. She glanced up to Irene, now standing besides her, and noticed she was not quite happy about this. When the new guy spoke Mary raised an eyebrow and dropped her hands to her hips. "He's insane.." she mumbled, as he went on about support and exploring. She didn't know if he was serious or not, but he made her feel uncomfortable about being here. Maybe she and James shouldn't have come. She didn't feel safe. She felt nervous about James and trigger happy standing so close to the new man. Her hand went to her gun again, a habit she could not shake even though she wouldn't just shoot without thinking.</s> <|message|>Irene Ross Irene glanced at the others to gauge their reactions to this guy, to figure out if they too were unsure if he was pulling their chain. He certainly sounded serious, and pretty genuinely insane. Out of instinct, she checked to make sure her knife was on her and relaxed only slightly when she found out it was. She fixed the most recent newcomer with narrowed eyes and a stony expression. The people around her had guns. She was fairly sure they could kick his scrawny ass if he tried anything, so she put her hands on her hips, and raised her voice, which she expected to lose by tomorrow at this rate. "You want to explore the world? Then get going!" she barked. "No one's stopping you. Go on! Bye! Have fun!"</s> <|message|>Jonah Smith Jonah understands that his seemingly foolproof speech didn't say what he meant in the way he wanted to. Not thinking much about what he says, he tries again to explain what he wants to do. "I won't leave alone, basically unarmed, unready, and with nowhere to go back. Aren't we all hungry, thirsty, tired, and afraid? Don't we live in a world where we can lose everything in a flash? Don't you want to make it better? Please, we need each other! You won't survive on your own... even if you'd want to. Because a life on your own, is a life without friends, love, or goals. That shouldn't even count as a life. If you have hope, want to survive, or fear loneliness, you don't live on your own. Am I a maniac? What's the madness in hope, that everyone else has given up completely?" Jonah made it clear that he feared a hopeless world. He silently smiled at the group, hoping that they'd understand him better. "Do you have hope? If not, what do you live for?"</s> <|message|>Hunter Monroe Hunter would look over to Irene then at the others. "Irene we need to talk, alone...Inside." Hunter would walk over to Irene and guide her inside the house. "I know I am not the best person left on the planet, But I owe you my life. But these people, there is nothing stopping them from coming in and taking everything, They are armed and they hold the numbers advantage over us. SO unless you have some great amount of combat experience that I don't know about I don't think we can win a fight if we get into one here." Hunter would look out the window at the people. "If things go wrong I have three shots. I don't want to get into a fight, I really don't like the idea of getting into gunfights, especially after the refugee center."</s>
<|message|>Irene Ross It was a good point. Irene picked up the bucket of water and grabbed the can opener. For a moment she wanted to thank Hunter...but she was too prideful, and that won over. "I'll just give them what they wanted in the first place, then." With that she walked back outside with both items, placed the bucket on the ground, and stared the newcomer in the eyes. "I have hope that you'll get your eyes scratched out by my cacti on the way out," she snarled. Her mood had been getting gradually worse.</s>
<|description|>Nameless Appearance: (Preliminary image. 30 minute sketch.) Class: Myrmidon Age: Unsure, appears to be early 20s Sex: Male Weapon Rank: Sword E Equipment: Ancient Sword (Basically a Bronze Sword) Skills: Avoid +10, Amnesiac (Poor Skill and EXP Growths) Plot subjective: Yes Personality: An odd mix of humored and indifferent. He often does his own thing, but the moment he's pulled into conversation, his true nature of a complete space case tends to show. He's not unintelligent or careless, but rather off in his own world. However, in the face of a pretty woman, he tends to lose all focus. Basically, he's an idiot. Biography: A swordsman who can't even remember his own name. The first memory he held was waking in a Plegian cell. He managed to escape and gather a sword that he'd apparently had with him when he'd been captured, and he felt an odd affinity. Since his escape from Plegia into Ylisse, he's been working as a piss poor sellsword. It seems that it's only through a miracle that he has not died due to his own lack of skill with a blade. Or perhaps there's something more. Either way, the man cannot tell. He was conscripted into the military more for his own protection than for any semblance of skill he might have held. Over the past 6 months, he's proven to be somewhat capable, or at least durable, able to support others in combat without becoming a liability himself. As of late, though, he's been plagued by odd dreams about dragons and a far off land. Trying to push his concerns to the background, he's started to become more focused on his tasks as a combatant. Perhaps there's hope for him yet.</s> <|message|>Marzipan. (will go by Mars) Mars Mars flicked her eyes over to Matthew, finishing the last of the meat pie while licking her fingers. She raised an eyebrow as Matthew said something about meeting Tiki and saying that she was 'Naga's champion.' her eyes flashed at the words. She blinked slowly, staring at him even more intently as he said something about books about her kind. "Wait.. there are books about Manaketes? Really??" She asked, excitement making her eyes flash to their Draconic form, the pupils dilating like a cat's. "Can i read them??" she asked. The idea of learning about her own kind, when she barely knew a thing about them because of her childhood.. made her ecstatic. "They sound pretty accurate. At least.. about the meat part." she stated, a friendly and animalistic smile stretching across her face. Mars bounded back towards Matthew, getting a second look at him. A scrawny, cute human with dark hair and gentle eyes. She moved closer, until she was almost on top of him, sniffing him suspiciously before tilting her head as she twisted her mouth back and forth in thought. She had promised herself to never hang around with humans again.. but this one smelled like books.. and he knew a Manakete who wasn't her. Maybe if she hung around with him, Mars could be introduced to another of her kind.. and finally not be alone. Besides.. staying with these humans might offer some form of protection from Manakete hunters, and these humans were certainly more interesting than going off on her own. Though the idea of being a Shepherd was weird. "If I come along with you.. can i eat a portion of the sheep we are tending?" her question was filled with ignorance and innocence, but it could be taken the wrong way if someone didn't know Manaketes do not eat humans. _______________ Andross After a short period of travel, Andross arrived with Sophia behind him. He smiled as he surveyed the small group which had surrounded the voice. He stayed back as he saw the woman with the pointed ears approach the voice. He'd never seen a creature quite like her.. certainly not a human. She could be a Taguel.. but there was a predatory way she moved which made that seem impossible. Instead of puzzling over what she could be, Andross turned his attention to the voice of Naga, blinking slowly as he surveyed those gathered before them. "Greetings.. voice of Naga.. I am Andross.. i have come to offer my assistance to you in battle." he gave a low and formal bow to the man, his jewelry jingling as he stood back upright. The strange woman gave him a weird look, tilting her head as she curled her lip. "You are a dancer." she stated cooly. Andross just gave her a charismatic smile. "That i am, my lady." he stated. "I am not much of a fighter.. but i can inspire the troops to do things they never dreamed were possible through my dances."</s> <|message|>Jerod Jerod Jerod was relieved to see the dark mage lady seem to at least back down some, at least letting the dark tome of hers fall back down on its chain. Well, that was all fine and well then, wasn't it? No soul sucking black magic to have to fight with then, or whatever variant the creepy lass used. Far as Jerod was typically concerned, magic was magic, sub dividing it was only really useful to other mages who had to use other kinds of magic to counter magics of the first kind. All Jerod had to worry about was that mages could fight up close or from a ways away, so closing the distance did not garuntee any sort of protection. Usually, he heard of some folks crossing paths with rather esoteric and unusual magic that could not be used close, like a bow really, but it had never crossed paths with Jerod. So he was a bit sceptical of trusting that some magic operated differently than others, in the regards of reach. Far as he was concerned, if the mage could see him, it was a problem and put him in range. Without being in range to properly introduce them to his axe. Rude, really. The other woman, behind the laddie champion, introduced herself as the Exalt of Ylisse. Well, Jerod thought, he thought she'd be taller. It didn't matter, at least she was willing to listen to reason, no sense getting his ass handed to him so soon. He had a habit of reading people, and this Exalt did not seem like the pacifist pushovers of the past. Not to say they were pushovers at all, but pacifist fit more often than not, far as he reckoned. Ferox could probably learn a thing or two from her, like not having to immediately resort to bloody minded violence to decide the best fit ruler. That was going to bite them in the collective asses some day, and he would be more than ready to tell them that he had seen that coming from miles away, at worst. He grinned at the champion lad first, his usual near unintelligable accent as strong as ever as he gave him the first response. "Ach, t'ats mig'ty welcomin' of ye, sure a' sure. Ah am ready t' depart a' a momen's notice, ain' got reason t' 'ang around." Which was true, Jerod had not made arrangements at any local inn or tavern yet, and had not intended to, to begin with at any rate. He reckoned tracking down the Shepards, or their remenants at least, wasn't going to be hard. Not with this open monument to them now being restored to its former glory, much to the apparent chagrin of the dark mage lass. His next attention was on the Exalt, his speech as plain as before, he was never one to stand on ceremony over much at all. No time for it, really, and he was no sworn citizen of Ylisse (at this point, of anywhere far as the fighter was concerned), so polite and scraping the dirt with his face from bowing so low were two entirely different things. "No 'ard feelin's, yer Exaltness, or 'owever i's s'pposed t' be said. Random noggin' strangers showin' up on t'e doorstep o' yer barracks t' be renovated, ah would be mighty concerned ah well." Jerod of course nearly shit himself at the sound of a dragon. Last time he had the misfortune of crossing paths with a Manakate, well, leave it to say that it was the closest he had come to being killed. The bloody things honestly did not sit well with the fighter, and having one barge out of the barracks did not sit well with the fighter, to say the least. "Ah, should ah be 'xpectin' bloody dragons t' be bargin' out o' every abandoned buildin' ye lot 'ave? Most o' t'em dragonfolk an' m'self ne'er got 'long real well. Mos'ly on t'e part o' t'e former tryin' t' torch t'e bloody 'ell out o' t'e latter, savvy? Oh, an ye dark magic lass, ah would 'ighly apprecia'e if ye dinnae use m' carcass fer spell par's un'il AFTER ah'm dead, eh? No offense t' ye, bu' las' dark spell slinger ah done crossed pat's wit' right tried t' use me fer some brazen plan t' do 'ell knows what." Jerod was aware that maybe a fourth of what he was saying was probably getting through, but it was never something he was terribly good at. Besides, people on the wrong side of his axe tended to react even worse when he was bearing down on them, screaming in some bloody half unintelligable string of curses that left them unable to really react on a proper level. Being able to make all of it out, well, probably would diminish things quite a bit. That, and it wasn't like he was ever going to be taught a proper way to speak, so he spoke as he always had. Damn near impossible to understand at points.</s> <|message|>Guillame deRossane Guillame considered acting scared for a moment. He had served in the army: he had known many mages, and he knew that you couldn't turn someone into a newt. At least, he was pretty sure. Kind of sure. Maybe not so sure. It's probably all in good fun anyway, right? Not that the threat was really necessary. For a free horse and enough supplies to make it to the border, Guillame was more than willing to deliver a letter. Really, he was would have been willing to do more for less, but this was war, he supposed. It's not as though there's an excess of messengers around, and even fewer who could make it to Ylisse without much incident. That's the sort of thing you would pay high price for. Slight issue, though. He couldn't ride a horse. Like most common folk, he'd never really needed to. His family didn't move around much, and on the rare occasions when they did, walking was always the cheaper option. As far as he knew, the horse could just end up bucking him around and then running off. Or maybe he'd end up dead with a hoof-print on his forehead. Returning from his thoughts, Guillame realized that, both literally and figuratively, he was looking the gift horse in the mouth. Taking the reigns from the young woman, he nodded and smiled politely. It'd be a challenge. And besides, horse riding could a be a useful skill to have under his belt. "C'est déjà fait," he said, smoothly. "It is done already. Show me the best road, and I will take it."</s> <|message|>Sayuri Takashi Syauri looks at the guy who greeted him, 'Join the shepards? Oh this must the Naga's Chosen... Hmm... I could join... But then I'd be putting my business, my life, and... That... On the line..." she thinks for a couple minutes. She nods after making her decision, "Actually I was originally coming here taking in the sights of Ylisstol. It's my first time to the capital. to be honest I didn't even know the Shepards were being restarted. Though if you are I would be more than willing to join. Though not for free," she watches him to gauge his reactions, "It's not for me though. I help provide for my adoptive family with my merchanting. So lost time here means lost money for them. Other than that I need no other reason to help putting the church in their place." While waiting for his response she turns to look at the Manakete, "Wow this takes me back... It's been almost 10 years since I last saw one of my own... That takes me back," she sighs sadly, 'Mom... Hope you're proud of me...'</s>
<|message|>Nameless The swordsman looked between the one who took the pie, Mars, and the other, Syauri. He seemed puzzled. "Hey, uh, girls," he walked over, scratching his head. "So, I get the whole dragon thing, kind of, but I need to ask you later... What exactly is a manakete... The word... Since I saw you two, it's been clawing from my memory, trying to say that the word is important to me somehow... Well, I guess now isn't really the time." He sighed. "But later. I'll get you both some food and hopefully you'll be able to help me out with that... Seeing as it looks like we're all going to be roped into this whole Shepherds thing and all," he laughed.</s>
<|description|>Robert Fallson Appearance: Symbol: Age: 18 Height: 6'0 Weight: 130 Ibs Gender: Male Race: Human Weapons: He wears bracers that have a retractable 7-inch blade in the shape of an arrow. When retracted, the bracers shoot 10mm rounds. Each bracer holds 20 shots, with extra ammo in pouches on his belt. A visor he wears with its own Heads Up Display uses a pair of crosshairs to show where he is aiming his weapons, improving his accuracy. They were designed and created by his dad when he unsuccessfully applied to Beacon around the same age as Robert. They are the only physical objects remaining from his family's past. Specialty: Robert is best at fighting an opponent one on one, and because of this he relies heavily on teammates when in a large conflict with multiple enemies. It is also because of his helpful and team-player attitude that his teammates chose him to be the leader of his original team, RPGD, to his surprise. Semblance: Robert's semblance allows him to subliminally affect probability fields, causing improbable, but not impossible, "unlucky" events to occur to enemies within his line of sight. At the time, Robert has no idea that he even has a semblance, let alone has been using his semblance on himself for years to increase his already bad luck to near-immeasurable levels. Personality: Robert is an average geek with an interest in subjects like comics and ancient world history. Most groups of people would probably describe him as everyman due to him not having much in the way of impressive skills while others might see him more as a goofball thanks to his usual optimistic and joking attitude. When the going gets tough though, the red haired boy is a good person to have by your side as he will never give up or surrender, even when all may seem lost. Eight year old Robert sat in front of the television, playing with his toy cars and action figures. Behind him, Robert's dad sat in a reclining armchair, half reading the newspaper in his hands and half listening to the TV. "John, could you help Scarlet with her dinner," Robert's mother called from the kitchen. "Yes, Marian," Robert's dad answered, walking towards the small toddler that was Robert's sister. Robert looked up from his toys to see the news channel that was on show the words "Breaking News". The anchorwoman then read the new news, "A warning to all human families living in neighborhoods with large majorities of Faunuses, the organization known as the White Fang, previously known for its peaceful protests, has been attacking humans in the before-mentioned neighborhoods. This recent aggression is suspected to be a result from-" Robert's dad turned the TV off. "You don't need to listen to that garbage, son," he said. He then walked back to the dinner table where Scarlet was playing with her food. Robert went back to playing with his toys. Unbeknownst to the Fallson Family though, a small crowd gathered outside. Six Faunuses stood, looking at the happy family inside. "Burn it down," said the leader. The other five threw Molotov Cocktails at the two story house, the fire quickly spread throughout the bottom story and the roof. No one inside knew what was going on, all they knew was that the house had spontaneously burst into flames. Robert's mother screamed, Robert's sister cried, Robert's father yelled orders, and Robert continued sitting there confused, trying to understand what was going on. His father grabbed Scarlet, his mother grabbed a family photo album, and they both sprinted towards the staircase. As they reached it, his dad stopped and turned around, "Come on, Robert!" he cried. Outside, the leader of the attack turned and grabbed a baseball bat that was strapped to his back. It suddenly transformed into a grenade launcher, and one shot was fired. The single grenade incinerated the wall it struck, as well as the three humans standing next to it. In a flash, Robert's family was gone. A single, burning photo floated into Robert's lap. He stood there dumbstruck at what just happened. The creaking of the roof brought him back to reality though, as a large burning beam fell from the roof. He tried to dodge, but was too slow. It fell right on his back, pinning him to the ground and burning his flesh. He was able to quickly wiggle out from under it though, and jumped out of the hole in the wall that the grenade had made earlier. He laid on the lawn of his house, clutching the photograph from earlier. He saw the six Faunuses slowly approaching him, ready to finish the job. The sounds of sirens around the corner stopped them in their tracks though, and they escaped. Robert continued lying there, unable to move, sobbing. One of the officers picked him up and carried him to a patrol car. After sitting in the passenger seat for several hours, one of the firemen walked up and gave him the only other thing that survived the fire, his father's visor and bracers which were in the basement during the fire. Afterwards, the officers and firemen left Robert alone. Bad choice. He rose from the seat and walked off into the night, passing a street sign that read "Loxley St." Robert's eight year old mind thought of nothing but wanting to be alone. For the next several years, Robert would live on the streets. Stealing food and other necessities only when he had no other choice, and only from people who could still live without those necessities. Witnesses would often report to the police that the only thing they saw before their things were stolen was a figure with a green hoodie. Robert didn't go it alone for all those years though. He did make some friends at a restaurant named Fryer Tuck's Diner; namely Tuck, Alan, and Miller. If not for them, he might not have been able to go to Beacon as they were the ones who helped him acquire a GED as well as the application for Beacon. If not for their moral support and assistance, he would have probably never gotten off the streets and into the prestigious academy. Theme Song: Kansas - Carry On Wayward Son Based off of: Robin Hood Color: Rosso Corsa</s> <|message|>Lorena Negasi ["Lauren"] Lauren Negasi "CHA!" Bounding off the bed and scooping up clothes as though she had octane in her blood, Lauren shot into the bathroom and slammed the door hard behind her. Sixty seconds later, she had opened the bathroom door up again with the underside of one arm, visibly multitasking. She had thrown on a low cut black t-shirt and her signature jacket, both characteristically midriff-baring, and was currently devoting one hand to the button fly of her black pants while her other hand tightened a gilded leather studded belt around her waist. She was hopping, one footed, through the dorm, trying to get her left boot on properly. For the sake of her balance, she decided to throw herself at the unoccupied foot of the only member of Bastille not currently suffering from chronic pain - Snague Naga's mattress poofed underneath her as she reared back and pulled her boot on with another, even more triumphant "WALLAHI!" She rolled onto her stomach and rested her head in her hands, elbows on the bed and feet in the air. The newest member of the team reached for her dark, cheekily grinning face and pushed her cocoa hair back into a large, neat wave with her fingers. "Oh man, I could eat a bull right now, buns or not!" Newly prepared to go out, Lauren reached for her own dwindling supply of pills and swallowed half of one. "Ready when you are, fellow cripples."</s> <|message|>Oswald Connoly Oswald Connolly-Lakebed Looking back for just a moment, Oswald almost sighed in relief when he saw Shiro deciding to come up to the surface with him. At the moment, it was just the merry band of idiots in the water- Oswald, Napoli Shiro and Robert. Hopefully the redhead would get the memo before he got eaten, or Oswald would have to jump in and pull the guy out himself. Breaching the surface, Oswald quickly paddled to the edge of the lake and pulled himself out onto relatively dry land, shaking his body like a dog would to get off the excess water. They had to beat this Ogdoad, find Sapphire's daggers, retrieve them, and survive it all. That...would be a bit of a problem. Ogdoads were Riesen-class...he was pretty sure. They definitely weren't your run-of-the-mill cleanup job Grimm, no sir. While it was a shock that such a powerful force of nature was lying in wait below Beacon, Oswald figured that this place couldn't have been perfect. No place was, not even a fortress city. "Fuck you, world."</s>
<|message|>Robert Fallson Robert Fallson - The Lake Robert gave a sigh of relief as he saw Oswald get to Shiro first and get him to start moving back up towards the surface. That was when he realized that he had quite literally just breathed out the last of his air. The teen looked up towards the surface which now seemed so far away. There was no way he could make it now, not unless Napoli, Shiro, or Oswald planned on giving him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. They all seemed like nice guys, but they sure as hell weren't no Wendy Peppercorn. Only one option remained then, hope the Ogdoad's lair had some kind of air pocket not too far in. So the redhead team leader charged straight at the large Grimm in hopes of maneuvering past it and getting inside it's cave. What'd he have to lose anyway?... Besides his own life of course. The Ogdoad looked like it was glaring at Robert as he got closer and closer. Second thought were beginning to run through his head as the frog-like Grimm began to open its mouth. Right when its tongue darted out though, a sudden current swept Robert out of the way. That first current sent him into another current, then another current, and then another current. He had lost all sense of direction at this point and was beginning to fear that at any moment he'd be sleeping with the fishes, until he suddenly felt a slight absence of pressure. Opening his eyes, Robert found that the underwater currents had swept him back up toward the surface. Breaking through he shouted, "I knew Lady Luck wasn't done torturing me yet!" while gasping for air.</s>
<|description|>Utaho Rinnosuke Age: 18 Gender: Female Class: 3-D Personality: Utaho is a delinquent, first and foremost, and as so, she always has a tough act on and a deathly glare on her face. Her fuse is fairly short and she'll probably beat the shit out of you once she explodes. She holds nothing back against anyone, no matter who they are, if they insult her, they can consider themselves dead meat. She also likes picking on the weak, and will probably continue doing so until they show any kind of resistance against her harassment. Of course, this means that most of the times, the only way she knows how to solve things is by using her fists, and always leaving the brains part out. Utaho is also fairly dumb, and probably a person with which you shouldn't speak to with complicated words. Of course, that's not all there is to Utaho, though. She may seem like any other asshole of a woman to everyone, but those that have indeed gotten to know her are aware of her friendly nature, and how she always puts her friends first. If you ever show to her that you've got enough guts as to stand up to her, or even withstand one of her punches, then you'll probably gain her respect, and friendship, and she's the kind that would go to great extremes just to see her friends happy and well. She doesn't bully those who show some guts out of sheer respect, but anyone that is spineless enough as to bow to the will of a single woman.... well, she doesn't respect them even as a person. And even so, she is not arrogant. She thinks of herself as only a woman, and is pretty down to earth in that aspect. She knows there are countless people better than her, at academics mainly, but, in her own twisted way, she also worries that those talented people might not be ready for what the world holds for them. Background: Utaho grew up in a household with nothing but men in it, so she had to learn how to defend herself from her older brothers, and quick. At first, they didn't really pick on her or anything, to be honest, they loved her very much, but what was just awful was the fact that they treated her just like how they would treat any other guy. While young, Utaho wore her hair short as a consequence of this. Playing rough with your bigger brothers usually develops some skill in you, such as fighting. Utaho was able to learn moves from seeing them once in TV and could replicate them to almost perfection, in fact, she thinks that's her only redeemable quality. She was able to survive her older brothers, but nothing could have prepared her for what was awaiting her in middle school. Yes, elementary school was a walk in the park, everything is fairly easy, and Utaho managed to get average grades, but middle school? That's when the problems started. Most of her history was filled with failing marks. One could even say she was somewhat depressed, and her little group knew it. Around that time, they used to pick on an intelligent, loner girl who always got high grades. Of course, these kinds of things (usually) do not last forever. One day, the girl finally decided to stand up against them, even going as far as to punch one of them, and she gained Utaho's instant respect and friendship. Thanks to that girl, she has been able to at the very least pass exams. Skills: She is very skilled at fighting, not any particular discipline, more like street fighting. She is also semi-skilled in home economics (she had to cook for a family of men) and also semi-skilled at sewing. She's bad at anything school related besides the aforementioned two. Weapons: N/A Relationships/Friendships: Kurisa Shuiji: "Well, what can I say about the guy? He knows how to kick ass and he does it well enough for me to invite him over to kick some ass together from time to time. I like him, definitely so. The only bad thing is that he ain't one to talk much. It'd also be nice if he was a bit more intelligent. Other: She is into cute things, and even her phone is decorated with cute-ish things all over. And also, "They Ate Shoske!".... Poor guy. D:</s> <|message|>Kurisa Shuiji The RP has finally started! Woop! Post away x3 Template (Include at the end of each post) Weapon: ??? Hits used: ___ Hits left: ___ Throwable: ??? (they only last 1 post anyway) Groups Group 1: Kurisa, Utaho, Shoske, Akane, Yukito Group 2: Aki, Megumi Group 3: Zev, Mi Lone: Kenny Deaths Reiko Kanzaki - Died on the school Roof Paneru Yagyū - Died on the School Roof Kurogane Hazekage - Died on the School Roof Kibaya Musato - Dead from the get go</s> <|message|>Kurisa Shuiji Location: Japan, Tokonosu City Time: 11:37 A.M Date: March 7th, 2015 Out on the Horizon was a city filled with smoke, filling the skies above as fires burned out of control, it looked like something straight out of a Movie...this place looked like hell! And it may as well have been...Monsters in the form of humans roamed the streets, consuming human begins and turning them into one of them. It was like a nightmare...in so little time this world had fallen into chaos and although the people of Japan may have thought it was just in Japan, it wasn't...this was world wide...there was no escaping it. Little did we all know They were already here... Location: Japan, Tokonosu City, Fujimi Academy Time: 10:50 A.M Date: March 7th, 2015 Right now everything was normal in the School, people going about their daily lives learning, skipping class and causing trouble...just another day in Paradise. This is where it all begins, at this somewhat normal High School located in Japan. Right now most would be in class but as usual a few decided to skip class and just wait it out until something they actually wanted to do came along or until they got caught but for the regular people who skip class this wasn't much of a problem. The Teachers had given up on dragging students back to a class they had no interest in and went on as normal, focusing on teaching the students that did want to learn. To some this was a place of wonders, where you come to learn and make something of your life...for others it was just a pain in the ass! Almost like a damn prison! Being forced to come here day after day to do stuff they hate. Some would go as far as calling this place hell!...but they had no idea what hell was on it's way We start our story from this point on...everything is as normal...for now</s> <|message|>Mi Kiyoshi Mi was in gym. It was her least favorite class. She didn't have very good physical properties. Well, except for running. And Mi even messed that up sometimes. But it wasn't running. It was football. A contact sport where both the girls and the boys were playing for once. Mi ran along the outskirts, chasing the ball. Before she knew it, her face was on the ground. Someone had tripped her. A girl ran over and asked Mi if she was okay. Mi nodded but the girl pointed at her face and arms. "You don't look okay," she told Mi. Mi looked at her arms and noticed that they were bleeding. Her nose was probably bleeding as well. Mi stood up and walked to the nurse's office. As Mi entered the office she told herself that she would be fine even if the nurse wash't there.</s>
<|message|>Utaho Rinnosuke Another day, another class skipped. Utaho walked by the hall, accompanied by two of her friends, well, more like her gang. She liked hanging around with them, given that it actually gave her a 'delinquent' feeling. She was the kind of girl that teacher's had given up for a while ago, she was probably not going to college too, perhaps she'd try for a career in MMA, though, it'd be fun to kick ass and not being scolded afterwards. "Uta-chan," one of the girls walking by her side started, she was dressed similar to Utaho, wearing a hoodie and a skirt. "What do ya want to drink? Soda, like always?" She asked, while she turned around to go to the vending machine that was nearby. Utaho nodded. "Yeah, please." She simply said, before reaching over to her hoodie's pocket and taking out her phone. Her case was pink and had a black heart in the middle, with the figure of a dog. Also, it read 'PINK' in big white letters. Totally in contrast with her own personality. Utaho was wearing a purple hoodie and a black skirt, along with stocking and a pair of sneakers (she just hated the school slippers), and her long blonde hair was done into a side ponytail. "So, who you got money from this time? That Amamiya brat or that Kiyoshi girl we've had our sights on for a while?" She said, laughing a bit. They still hadn't done anything, trying to respect their kouhai status and all, but they would start anytime soon for sure. "Neither, I'm not as awful as you! I brought my own money today! Geez, Uta-chan." Though the girl said so, she still laughed. She went to the vending machine and got three drinks from it. She quickly returned and threw at each girl their drink. Utaho opened the can of soda in her hands and took a sip on it, before her sharp eyes fixated on the sky. "Fuck, it's boring today. I wonder if Kurisa has anyone that needs their butt kicked." She said, before taking another sip on her drink.</s>
<|description|>Sadie Natalia Ethans "Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me", I said "you're holding back", she said "shut up and dance with me!" Face Claim: Kay Panabaker Age: 11 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual Date/Place of Birth: July 13th, 1998. Swindon. Currently: Hogwarts House: Gryffindor Wand: Dogwood, 6 ¾", Phoenix Feather. Springy and excitable. Patronus: Will be a Stoat Personal Childhood/Family Life: Sadie's childhood has been hard work. Raised on the family farm, Sadie is well acquainted with long days and extensive studying. An excellent student, she often ranked in the top ten in her coursework. Exceptionally close to her mother, Sadie's most cherished memories are their numerous outings and girly nights. Sadie nurtured a mechanical streak with her father, helping him maintain aging farm equipment. Her relationship with her brother Brennan has always been strained, their personalities too similar to allow them to get on. Personality: Bubbly, excitable, and prone to mischief, Sadie has a loud personality. Often bouncing between four different thoughts, she is often mistaken as a brainless ditz. Beneath her cheery exterior, however, lies a deeply curious mind and fiery determination. Passionate, dedicated, and fiercely protective of her friends, Sadie's sharp wit is a weapon in and of itself. Hobbies: Video games, geo-caching, studying, calligraphy, cards.</s> <|message|>Sadie Natalia Ethans After the first week, Sadie finally found the rhythm of her schoolwork. It was tricky work—she frequently had to ask her classmates what certain magical terms meant—but that was good. Sadie had always liked cutting her teeth on difficult concepts. There was nothing like the joy of finding the answer, especially when she found it herself. She'd apparently become the class nerd, but Sadie found the near apathy of some of her classmates staggering. She knew in the way that she knew that she must breathe that she would never tire of the magic of spells and potions and earth beneath her fingernails. The first Quidditch game was terrifying and exhilarating in equal parts. She couldn't forget the sight of that little Hufflepuff girl hurtling towards the ground. She'd woken up in a cold sweat half a dozen times, heart slamming into her ribs until she feared they might break. No one else seemed particularly bothered, and Sadie kept those nightmares quiet. It had been two months, and Brennan had barely spoken more than a dozen words to her. She'd seen how he darkened when she came around with George, his lips pressing into a thin line. But it hadn't been George who'd said those awful things, she wanted to scream at her brother. Somehow, Sadie didn't think Brennan much cared. It was, truthfully, rather lonely. At least her mum wrote frequently, sending sweets and trinkets from back home. Her dormmates had been fascinated by the still photographs Sadie's muggle friends had sent, their fashion and technology so alien to them. She was surprised to find herself missing home. Magic was wonderful and great, and she adored it, but she yearned for her phone, for streaming music and television. She missed knowing slang and context and staircases that didn't change on her. Sadie had a sharp sense of direction, but Hogwarts seemed to be purposefully trying to make her late for classes by completely altering its layout halfway through her walks. Halloween was as lavish as Christmas, she'd realised with a gasp as she and her friends entered the Great Hall. It was spectacular, flickering candles and spiders crafted of wisps of smoke dancing up and down webs of gossamer magic. Sadie spent the first five minutes of the meal whipping her head back and forth to catch sight of something new and wondrous. One of the older students chuckled as she gasped in delight at little cauldron cakes with ladles stirring around in their chocolate. Seine was regaling them with a particularly thrilling (and brutal) Quidditch recounting, Estonia vs. Laos, but she was only half listening. Seine was an amazing story teller, but she'd already heard the match--yellow and black robes whipping in wind, body tumbling like a rag doll toflat, flat earth—and she instead focused on the food. She was halfway through a bowl of pumpkin soup when she noticed that a tall, thin Professor was whispering into the Headmistress' ear. Sadie watched at the elderly witch's face blanked, her lips pursing into a thin line. Little whispers seemed to break out along the Head Table—and then they were hushed, smiles placed back on their faces. She almost thought she had imagined it, but… "Did you see that?" Niall muttered from across the table. Sadie met the his curious gaze, flicking her eyes back to the Head Table. Everything seemed normal, but… "That didn't look like good news," Sadie murmured, knitting her brows together. "Wonder what they're hiding."</s> <|message|>George Nott Jr. George found himself chatting along with Seine, regaling the events the match he'd read about. "Wasn't that the game where Keola was banned for life?" He asked, wiping pastry crust from the corners of mouth. "Didn't he almost murder Estonia's keeper?" He was barely aware of Sadie's attention existing elsewhere, instead solely focused on the conversation at hand. Seine's eyes animated and his hands waved with enthusiasm. "Yes! He nearly get the woman on fire. Oh what was her name- Ti-, no... To, er-" He paused for a moment, as if trying to pull the name from the very back of his mind. His hands danced in a circle like a fisherman recoiling a rod. "Tulli!" Seine yelled suddenly. "My dad said that the whole crowd just freaked out! He plays for some Chinese team now though, so his ban must have been lifted... I don't know why." Seine continued, trailing off to stuff more food into his mouth. The Great Hall echoed with the chorus of the ghosts and the echo of students laughing and babbling about anything that sprang to mind. The faces of each first year still seemed to irradiate with excitement and elation. Pumpkins floated about the room, each one carved to display a different face. From cackling smiles to slanted and devilish eyes. Each one was unique. George had spent the first part of the evening wondering exactly how had spent all afternoon craving each face with such creativity until it occurred to him that a simple charm would have easily done the job. The ghosts seemed to glade through the room, going from table to table, each joining in a small chorus of a song that seemed far older than anyone else in the castle. "What do muggles do for Halloween?" George asked after the conversation of Quidditch had died down. He'd never truly realized how different their worlds were. Muggles had such strange things, items he didn't understand. Their paintings and photographs didn't move yet large screens played sound and moving images, changing at the push of a button. There was music coming from tiny devices in pockets and huge metal birds that flew in the sky. How could they stand not being able to get somewhere instantly? What if something was broken? Did they just throw it out? There were far too many questions to make any real sense of and two months of Muggle Studies had done little to ease the burden he had in his head. He wondered what muggle kids did for fun? What sports did they play? What did they learn at school? How did they speak to people in other countries? How many of them knew his own world existed? What was it like to be told you were a wizard!? George pulled another lump of his pastry and ate eagerly awaiting Sadie's response to his question. Did they eat big meals? Did they have parties? Did they do nothing? He could remember seeing shop windows decorated with masks and spiders webs. The image of a green faced women, her nose huge and long, with a single boil on the end was firmly placed in his mind yet he didn't really understand why. Was that what muggles thought his kind looked like? Sure, goblins weren't great looking but wizards and witches looked like anyone else. There were some perculier types but everyone looked normal. George looked across to Sadie, waiting for her reply only for his eyes to follow her gaze across the table. He frowned a little and pulled his forehead tense. He watched the exchange for a moment before voicing the same opinion they all had. "What was that about?" He muttered, looking between his two closest friends and Niall. "Do you think it's something serious?" Seine asked, leaning in close to his friends. "Maybe something has happened in the castle. They wouldn't just start panicking if it did." He offered, putting down his food to glance at the others. George followed suit, looking between the trio in the hope that someone would provide answers. "It's probably nothing." He suggested, trying to, for once, play devils advocate. It wasn't a role he usually played, but one he felt he would need to learn in time. "Its not like their going to tell us, is it? Regardless of what it is. If it's serious, it'll be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. It's probably nothing." He repeated, desperate fantasy despite the fact he was riddled with anxiety, his thoughts lousy with the one hundred worst case scenarios he'd suddenly come up with. "George has a point. If it is anything serious, it'll be in the Daily Prophet. It's not like their going to hide it really. Even if they did try, someone's parents would know and send a letter." Seine blurted, his eyes bright. "Do you think the centaurs are angry? Maybe thats what it is. I heard they start stampedes a lot in the forest. What if it's a werewolf? Then again, they'd have to tell us about that one.." He added.</s>
<|message|>Sadie Natalia Ethans George offered reassurance—they were probably just being suspicious, right? Sadie chewed her lip, glancing back up at the Head Table. The Headmistress seemed impassive, tucking into a roasted pumpkin. Professor Sprout looked cheery as ever, regaling Madame Hooch was a tale, hands dancing as she spoke. Niall didn't look convinced. His brows had furrowed, blue eyes still watching their professors, like he didn't trust them. She couldn't imagine why not. Her professors seemed lovely—although Professor Binns' voice was very difficult to listen to without feeling drowsy—why should she distrust their judgment? It wasn't like she knew enough about this world yet, anyways. "I guess," he said finally, shifting his gaze over to the Slytherin table, as if he were trying to make eye contact with someone. He nodded his head towards the table and shrugged. Sadie resisted the urge to twist around in her seat and see who he was looking at. "Are werewolves common, then?" Sadie asked Seine. God, would she ever feel like she knew this world? Every day seemed to be a constant reminder that the rules of reality she'd known her whole life meant nothing. Seine shifted uncomfortably for a moment, studying his mashed potatoes as if they might answer her question. She was nearly ready to brush it off when he spoke up. "Yeah—during the war there were a lot of attacks. A lot of people were turned." "Jesus," Sadie didn't mean to blasphemy, but it was just… she didn't know the context, but even she could tell that that was awful. She frowned, pushing her roast beef about her plate with a fork. She forced her thoughts to better places and turned to George. "Right! So, muggle Halloween…"</s>
<|description|>Napoli Fiordilatte Age: 17 Gender: Male Race: Human Weapon: Napoli's primary weapon is an elegant rapier named Mercutio. It is a rapier with a swept hilt design, and made out of a gleaming silver metal. Mercutio is most often used in tandem with Napoli's other weapon Arsene. In contrast to Mercutio, Arsene is a traditional short sword breaker capable of transforming into a pistol. Like most sword breakers, one side of Arsene possesses numerous notches capable of catching blades. The other side is bladed and thus capable of acting as a typical dagger. The pistol mode fires standard dust rounds loaded via a magazine into the cross guard. The final trick of Mercutio and Arsene is their ability to combine into Scapino, a sniper. Scapino is a long bolt-action sniper that allows for Napoli to perform in his primary role as long ranged support. Scapino is comprised of Arsene utilizing the longer Mercutio as a barrel, and fires high caliber armor piercing dust rounds. Specialty: Napoli primarily acts as the long ranged sniper for Team VGNB (Vignoble), lending them support from a distance. It is not unusual to see Napoli lying in the grass as he takes out enemies currently engaged with his fellow teammates. His position as a sniper though, does rob Napoli of defensive capabilities. However while he may act primarily as a sniper, Napoli is no slacker when it comes to close ranged combat. Mercutio and Arsene allow Napoli to function extremely well as a duelist that prefers to stay light on his feet, almost dancing around the opponent. As a duelist, Napoli is best suited for one on one combat, as his weapons don't lend themselves to well to dealing with multiple enemies. Like most duelists, Napoli's attacks make sure to take advantage of weaknesses in his opponent's guard, and he'll use Arsene to create openings by intercepting attacks. Semblance: Azioni Volanti - Napoli's semblance is all about redirection, just as his jokes can be infuriating and take advantage of his opponent, so too does his power. Essentially, it allows Napoli to use his aura to guide objects. For instance he can curve the path his own bullets thereby enabling him to make otherwise impossible shots, but he is also capable of curving flight paths of opponent's bullets. In doing so, Napoli allows for many more near misses on his own person. However Napoli is not limited to just bullets, and is capable of causing swords and other weapons to just barely miss him by the use of his semblance. However the larger the object, the more it eats up his aura to use his power, thus forcing Napoli to rely primarily on his own dodging abilities. Manipulating a sword strike for instance, could take up a good quarter of Napoli's aura, and the semblance itself is most effective when it comes to minor redirections. Thus while near misses may not take up too much of his aura, causing a dead on attack from a sword to completely miss would generally fall outside the range of Napoli's abilities. Azioni Volanti therefore acts as an extension of Napoli's own dodging abilities, and is best utilized for dodging attacks that would have barely scraped him in the first place. In addition, due to the power eating up his aura, Napoli's natural defense is often quite lower than that of his peers. Ultimately while powerful, it is a skill best used sparingly for its tendency to severely weaken Napoli. Personality: Napoli is a jokester, often amusing himself at the expense of others. In particular he loves mocking opponents in combat, and thus often infuriates his opponents and even his teammates with the dumb comments he is constantly making. Napoli views life as a game, preferring to enjoy himself with his jokes and taunts rather than worry about some of the deeper intricacies and busy work of life. As such he often comes across as rather laid back and casual in day to day conversations. Napoli is also rather outgoing, quick to drag others into conversation and offer a helping hand to those in need. So that he can then follow up with some dumb joke. It is not uncommon to see Napoli snarking about the situations he ends up in, because while may be a little outgoing, he is still a relatively normal guy. For the most part, Napoli is just an amiable bloke who bickers constantly with his irksome teammate Gratia. However, when Napoli is extremely angered he falls deathly quiet in a rather unnerving fashion. Suffice to say, such a state has only been achieved a few times in Napoli's life. Color: Naples Yellow (Hex Code: FADA5E) Emblem: A black swept-hilt rapier facing downwards contained within a naples yellow spade. Appearance: Standing just over 6 feet, Napoli is fairly tall and walks with a rather lax posture. He appears to possess a perpetual grin plastered across his face, and is commonly seen wearing a brown leather vest over a yellow shirt. His rugged black pants have obviously seen much use, and are accompanied by equally worn down brown boots. In addition, Napoli likes to wear brown leather gloves to keep his hands clean. Obviously while in class, Napoli wears the Haven Uniform, although he leaves the jacket unbuttoned.</s> <|message|>Lucas Schwarz Luke Schwarze--Failing at Diplomacy. Or we could just skip that entirely. His shoulders sagged a little as a muted sigh escaped his lungs. On one hand, he was glad Ciel was fired up in the event his token attempt at negotiations fell through, but on the other? Well, jumping in and pointing a weapon at them after the offer probably put them on the fast track to reaching that very same conclusion. Seriously, how could they try to claim to be looking for a peaceful way out with a rifle aimed at them? ... And Jack's knives? ... A-And his own armored fists? ...I'm not a clever man, am I. Doomed from the start to fail, the Eldest of the young Schwarzes resigned himself to the conclusion he'd ran himself into long before even making his (admittedly half-hearted) attempt at turning another direction. "You alright, Ciel?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the two in front of them.</s> <|message|>Krysanthe Krysthane started in surprise when one of the group piped up about finding info on the raids. Here she thought they were the ones behind, well good thing she hadn't been reckless about it. She dropped out of her falsetto voice and spoke normally in a business tone, "Your gramps is right, one of the reasons we're here," well the only reason but she didn't have to be rude about it, "is to find out who is behind those attacks, tell us everything you know about it. Most importantly if you have any idea when or where the next attack is coming that would be of great use." Krysthane said quickly, eager to get to the point, they said something about the Mitakihara family, if nothing else she could follow up on that. Her eyeball twitched slightly when the cats left to get food, that was just... strange on so many levels even if they were so adorable that she had to resist the urge to run over and-FOCUS. so cute though... Reluctantly she managed to distract herself from the kittens with a sip of tea.</s> <|message|>Emerald "Emmy" Felicia Emerald - Leaving Ozpin's Office As soon as Ozpin had dismissed her, the green eyed Cat Faunus had darted out of the room, looking around the school with excitement and wonder. She was here! She'd made it! To Beacon! Her tail flicked in random directions as she began to wander down the hallway rather aimlessly, only stopping if she noticed something interesting, like a butterfly! Ozpin was right about there not being a lot of people today, she had yet to run into anyone! She realised she'd forgotten to ask about that tour guide...Sarina something. She bit her lip and pouted. Ah well, she could always explore on her own! Maybe she'd run into some potential new friends! Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest, like it had been most of the day. She was just so thrilled to be in what she considered the best school for hunters and huntresses there was! Her ecstasy was almost too much really. She had to do something, before her heart burst! So Emerald did. She started to run, sprinting with complete abandon down the halls the school. She figured it was the easiest way to see as much of the school as she could as quickly as possible. ... About three minutes later, Emerald came to a crawl, collapsing the ground as she finally caught her breath. She lay on her back, looking up at the sky as she took labored breaths. "Well...that was...fun…" She lazily looked around...she had absolutely no idea where she was.</s>
<|message|>Napoli Fiordilatte Gratia and Napoli - Ozpin's Office Throughout Ozpin's entire speech, the Hunter in training known as Napoli had a large grin plastered across his face. He tried to pay attention, he really did, but all he could focus on right now was the sheer amount of fun and adventure that awaited him. The promise of a new school, the opportunity to meet new people, to go on new adventures, it all left shaking with anticipation and excitement. The only thing that could improve this situation would be if the rest of the team had been here. The two of them had to go and procrastinate the paper work. And now he was left with her. Whatever, that wasn't a primary concern for now, with any degree of luck she would keep her mouth shut and he'd have a degree of peace as he explored his new suroundings. "Take a tour of our academy and get to know the place; if you like, I'll send for Sarina Tala Dei, one of our seniors who often helps the freshmen," Napoli caught the headmaster's advice as he slid some scrolls across to the three of them. Napoli was instantly captured by his newly-earned tablet device, already wondering whether he could get some games installed on the system. For the most part it was similar to the one he had recieved at Haven, but still the whole thing was pretty darn cool. Napoli merely nodded along as he heard the headmaster mutter something about special favours. Wait, he was done talking. However before Napoli had the opportunity to ask a single question or thank the headmaster, the other girl in the room sprinted out. Evidently she was rather high spirited, it seemed she was at least as excited as Napoli was for all this. He couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Turning his attention back to the headmaster, Napoli bowed in thanks, "Thanks for everything boss, and I'd definitely appreciate a Sarina Dei tour. Get it day tour, Sarina Dei. That was a good one right." It instantly produced a reaction, though not one that he had likely wanted. "Your jokes are shi-shameful." Oh right, she's here, Napoli sighed, "Slip of the tongue there?" "Fu-Screw you Fiordilatte." "Professor, I'm being bullied." Though the long-haired girl seemed relatively composed on the surface, closer examination would reveal that her onyx eyes were twitching rapidly, as if she was barely holding in the need to lash out at her "compatriot" with copious amounts of vulgarity. Really, if she hadn't been standing in front of one of the most powerful men in the entirety of Remnant, Napoli would likely have been on the receiving end of an earful so rude that his grandmami would have died of a heart attack. Again. For now though, it was best to ignore her urge to punch the blonde in the face and instead focus all her attentions upon Professor Ozpin. It was best not to make their first impression worse than it already was. "Sorry professor, she's a bit of a bitch," Napoli replied before Gratia could open her mouth. Her teeth grinded against each other. Gratia refused to explode. One of the top men in all of Remnant was right in front of her. Top. Men. She was not going to fuck this up. Not. Going. To fuck this up. Fists clenched, the haughty Hunter bit out her response. "I must ... apologise ... for my ... acquaintance's ... immaturity ... sir," she managed, clearly attempting to ignore Napoli. "We will be ... extremely greatful ... if this Ms. Sarina Tala Dei ... could assist us ... in finding our bearings." She needed to be professional. Professional. Serious. Everything irked her. Napoli. Wasting time in this office. Needing to rely on some teaching assistant to see them around. It all irked at her. It was irksome. Irking. "Hey, what do you know, she's being polite. You really are a miracle worker professor." Gratia was not going to fuck this up. She was not going to ruin the Professor's impression of them ... her. She was not going to punch Napoli Fiordilatte in the face. She was not going to stab the fucking cheese-eater. "Although what was with her speech, I ... am ... very ... happy ... but ... I ... can't ... talk ... with ... out ... pausing ... after ... each ... word. Man, that dragged on didn't it." "Fiordilatte. Shut up." She was this close to exploding. If the irksome fool did not shut the fuck up she would stab him right here and now, consequences be damned. "That's the spirit, no pauses this time. I'm so proud of you. Our little girl, all grown up." That was it. Her eyes narrowed. "Please send her our way as soon as possible," she ground out, barely repressed anger evident in her tone. Then she promptly grabbed Napoli by the collar and forcefully dragged him out of the office. "ZERO TOLERANCE!"</s>
<|description|>Lauren Compagnon Cartier Lauren Cartier Lauren, as Iiniwa, dressed in his grandfather's clothes Character basics Nicknames/alias: "Matey", Al Revoir, Iiniwa Age: 34 Place of birth & ethnicity: Red River Colony, Rupert's Land, Canada. Métis. Gender: Male Occupation: Bounty hunter, Soldier (Formerly), Huntsman (Formerly). Character appearance & personality Apperance: Lauren is lanky and tall, he has an average build. He is long-haired and has short facial hair. He has light skin and almond eyes, his hair is a dark black. Lauren has a large scar on his lower back, and has a rife bullet located somewhere in his lower abdomen. He has long hair, reaching his shoulders. He has a round face and high cheekbones. Clothing: Lauren often wears a small black jacket with cuffed sleeves over a similarly black waistcoat, a gold pocket watch chain hung over it. He has a brown gun-belt on his waist for his revolver. He wears black trousers and brown boots. He also wears a large black brimmed hat. When in Indian territories, he wears an outfit once worn by his grandfather, a Blackfoot elder. When in this outfit, the only thing that prevents him from appearing fully native is his white skin. It is comprised of a loose-fitting shirt, chaps, and moccasins. Personal style: Lauren is often sharply dressed, wearing suits and jackets that are in fashion in Europe. When riding or performing a bounty, he trades his fashionable attire for dark brown ponchos with beige trim, or worn dusters, already stained with a plethora of substances. Personality: Lauren is taciturn and never talks about his past, he dislikes racism towards Indians due to his descent and especially dislikes bandits. Lauren is spiritual and often quick to bond with members of the Indian community. Lauren speaks the language of his people and French, and has little ability with English. He speaks English with a heavy accent and many pauses due to his unfamiliarity with the language's many confusing rules and clauses, as such, he prefers to stay quiet, when he does speak, it is often in monosyllabic words. Lauren is exceptional at hold-em, and is often found at a saloon table when not on a bounty. Lauren has little empathy, caring only on what he is about to do next, and not caring about anyone else his actions might affect. Habits: When angry, Lauren's already heavy Quebecois accent becomes even heavier, and he rants in both his native tongues so fast not even native speakers understand him. He also has a habit of pushing against his lower back when distressed due to his scar. Skills and items Regular life skills: Lauren is a good tracker, and exceptional at riding, able to guide his horse with just his knees when aiming his rifle. He can barter well when he is pushed, and he is quite charismatic, owing to his handsome face and smooth French accent. Combat skills: Lauren is an incredible marksman, especially when armed with a repeater or other rifle. He has a good quick-draw and is alright in a brawl. Items on your person: Lauren carries a Cookson repeater and a Colt SAA, he also carries a beaver-fur hat, a gift from his father which he does not wear for risk of damaging it. He often has enough money on his person to afford a good horse. He also carries a hatchet and a hunting knife. Additional stuff: Lauren has four sets of European style clothing, his bounty hunting duster and poncho, and his grandfather's outfit for visits to native territories. History What brings you to Haylliesburg: Lauren arrived at Haylliesburg a few months ago, stopping on his way to a bounty for a meal. Remembering the location, he returned recently to have some downtime before heading back out after bounties. Your life before coming to Haylliesburg: Lauren Cartier was born in the Red River Indian territory to a native woman and a Voyageur by the name of Laurent. Lauren was raised mostly by his mother as a child, spending his time amongst the other Métis children and sometimes joining with the other Indians when they had ceremonies. Lauren especially idolized his grandfather, an elder among the Blackfoot who still made time to go out buffalo hunting with the young men. During his childhood, his father would periodically come around to check on him and teach him of the European culture, much to his mother's chagrin. At the age of four, his grandfather was shot by a bandit, his body dragged around by his horse so much it was barely recognizable. Soon after, his village was raided and his mother was killed, along with four in five of the village's inhabitants. Lauren was raised for four months by one of the now-homeless young hunters, Tired Condor, until his father, shocked and crying, came upon the two, shooting Condor dead due to a miscommunication. Lauren had already been through so much, and his father wasn't surprised to see the youth become walled-off and hard to talk to. Lauren's father, still a young man, retired to Quebec in order to raise the child. As a young man, Lauren returned to his home in the west, gathering the remaining members of his village together and holding a solemn vigil for the passed. A few years later, the Red River Rebellion broke out. Lauren enlisted into Louis Riel's army, serving on the firing squad of Thomas Scott, though he did not fire a single shot, instead fleeing south on horseback with all his possessions and reinventing himself as "Matey", a corruption of "Métis", for his ethnicity. He began serving as a bounty hunter and patron of the many Indian villages still thriving in the west. Extra Anything else you feel needs to be added, but doesn't fit anywhere else. * Lauren has also been known as Matey Scott and Al Revoir, when in Indian territories, he goes by his native name Iiniwa. * Lauren prefers to not introduce himself by name, instead going as Matey most of the time. * Lauren is a father, though he doesn't care for his children, and with many, isn't even aware they exist.</s> <|message|>Cpt. Jonah Hawthorne The Sheriff from Hell, An Old Dog of War Location: Oakley Saloon Interacting with:@Vas Khaleen; Possibly @ONL, @DepressedSoviet or @bluetommy2 "Well I do.." he spoke up to answer her comment about offense. Hawthorne put back another shot before glancing back at the doors of the place, watching as some new people entered. His eyes squinted at the first one. A native @bluetommy2 who seemed to be dressed fairly well compared for being a injun. @DepressedSoviet Soon enough a second who he didn't pay much mind to, despite the brogue in his voice and finally @ONL- "Guess they found a sheriff. I better still get paid for this." "Horsepiss you ain't getting shi- sonova - urgghhh" A second slam of the head on the counter by Hawthorne. He went to take another swig but stopped and looked at the wrapped up man. "Ya just dun know when to shut it, do ya?" Hawthorne turned to face the woman again. Johnny Reb...Haven't heard that in a while. "Yes I was and I didn't serve no division." He clicked his tongue and glanced over at her, his voice a bit more stern than before. Having an idea of what was to follow he continued. "I rode under Quantrill and Anderson and his fellas. The lot'o them got sand, but they were always on the shoot and they always found it....They always found it." He bit the inside of mouth as his voice muffled a bit as he put back his final shot for now. "After Lawrence I decided I was done with the war." The man he captured looked wide-eyed before speaking up. Sadly, his words would come too loud and most of the saloon stopped and turned to face him. "Wait...I know you...Now I remember you! You're the Bloodhound of Quantrill's Raiders! Jonah Hawthorne, right? I watched you-" Hawthorne shot a glare at Jesse, his capture, and drew his revolver from under his duster and with a click he cocked back the hammer. The S&W stayed underneath the duster to remain discreet but that famous revolver click was still as audible as ever. "I reckon you shut yer pie-hole before I put a bullet through, got it?" His cold steely eyes spoke more than the steady hand the gun held did. After the man swallowed hard he placed the hammer back to its original place and slipped it back in its holster and turned back to the lady. "Some damn bullshit ..." Hawthorne mumbled as he wiped the hole in his mouth clean before lighting the cigar that rested in his mouth. There goes a new start.</s> <|message|>Lauren Compagnon Cartier Grabbing his cards, Lauren held his mouth slightly ajar as he looked at them. A good hand, king of clubs and a ten of diamonds, lady luck was with him so far. The new player was sharp faced, the kind of look that marked one as experienced in whatever craft he had taken. In that, Lauren felt kinship, a strange kinship, but a kinship none the less. @DepressedSoviet Lauren tipped his hat and offered a "Salut" before tossing out a few chips. He had a good hand, he could afford to bet. His old friend shook his head, jiggling his jowls, before calling. Lauren spotted the half-faced man draw his gun at the bar, everything going silent a moment as he did. Lauren placed a hand on his own revolver reflexively, thankfully the man put his own gun back before Lauren drew. "Tu es completement débile." He muttered under his breath towards the man, just loud enough to hear himself over the saloon's renewed murmuring. @FallenTrinity He looked over at his bounty, who remained struggling in the corner, groaning through the rag. Lauren really needed to find that sheriff, but he didn't feel like looking right now, he was going to win himself a card game.</s> <|message|>Lily Bell Lily chuckled again as he stated that he had to watch himself, a smirk coming over her face for a brief moment as she tipped the bottle in her hand upwards taking a long draught of the dark liquor before setting it back down. Clearing her throat as she also glanced back catching sight of the Indian putting her on edge her left had dropping down to the corresponding pistol; a clear look of hate glazing over her eyes as she turned completely around on her stool. Dropping her conversation with Hawthorne completely as she slid off the tall seat, her boots thumping audibly against the wooden floor; walking at an above average pace towards the native and the dealers table. Her hand completely gripping the pistol grip now with the thumb already pulling the hammer backwards clicking it into place to slam down on a round and fire, stopping at the table and neglecting anyone else she stared straight at the native man spitting onto the table in-front of him. "Tha fuck is a heathen injun doin here?" As she spoke to the man her left hand drew upwards, pulling the hard iron forged pistol from its home; setting it heavy handed upon the wooden table on its side the men sitting around the table clearing away rather quickly from the gesture. All eyes shifting onto the woman whom was by all societal standards far from acting as expected, and the Indian whom was also shockingly present in a white man's town; the tension radiating off her strong her eyes seething with rage teeth pressed together. @bluetommy2</s> <|message|>Erik Torvald Viken Erik Torvald Viken Erik did his outmost not to pay attention to what was going on around him, instead focusing on the cold glass of water he was given. Except that it wasn't cold, it was room-temperature and a little smelly. When he thought about it, the glass of water tasted of whiskey or bourbon, or even moonshine. Combine that with the brown-ish colouring of the water, and Erik was pretty sure he had been given a glass of trough water, in a glass used normally for booze. But why did he care about details such as these, when things were escalating quicker than a speeding train down a slope? Wait, was that woman...pulling her gun on that Indian? Okay, Erik was perhaps only sheriff for a day and perhaps only for finding the stolen cattle, but he was not about to a murder on his hands within the first minutes of his career. Especially not one by a former Confederate female soldier. Did that matter though? No, too much thinking, too little taking action. "The same as everyone in this saloon is, exercising their freedom." Erik said as he stood up from the barstool and walked towards the woman now with her back to him. He wasn't expecting - or hoping - for it to turn any worse, but he still found himself resting his hand on the revolver at his side, just in case. "Frøken, there is no need to unneeded shooting today. I think you should go back to your friend at the counter and drink on."</s>
<|message|>Lauren Compagnon Cartier "No, monsieur." Lauren said as he stood, lifting his hat slightly. "La mademoiselle ne comprende pas." Lauren rolled his body downwards, taking his hat in his hand. "Salut, mademoiselle, I am... Matey... englais est... not my... st-strong point." He struggled out, barring his teeth as he tried to recall what little English his father had taught him. "Could-could tu... explain la word 'heathen' s'il-vous-plait?" He said, raising an eyebrow. "Tu est tres belle, j'aime le chapeau, c'est tres mignonne." He relaxed his pose, approaching her slowly, holding his hands far out to his sides. Turning up a corner of his mouth, he leaned against the table, throwing his hat back on his head. "Je suis vraimont desolee si je offensee tu, mais, je ne comprend pas le colere." He spoke very quickly, his voice deepened and his smirk widened. Lauren noticed the tattoo on her face, though he didn't recognize the purpose, he assumed it was native in origin. His mother's tribe never tattooed prisoners, in fact they rarely tried to kill or even knock unconscious their foes, instead carrying a coup stick. Counting coup was tapping an enemy and retreating back before being caught oneself, if a Blackfoot's coup was counted they would be forced to leave the field. To think of it, Blackfoot wars were more like games, it made sense that they got easily defeated in battles with trained armies. Whatever the case, if this woman had been tattooed as a result of captivity, there was little chance of him managing to seduce her like he had been attempting. Unfortunately he realized too late, and probably wouldn't have any time to apologize for his transgressions.</s>
<|description|>Barnabas Bell *Nicknames/Aliases: Character Type: Protagonist Age: 17 Gender: Male Appearance: Clothing Style: Barnabas mostly has a gentle sense of fashion. He doesn't choose colors that grate on the eyes or are difficult to look at for an extended amount of time. He chooses earthy hues of green, brown and blue, as well as the occasional vivid red here and there. He doesn't wear strictly one color, or too many colors at the same time. He prefers to keep his wardrobe balanced. He doesn't really wear any jewelry, because he doesn't really have the money in his account to buy any fancy watches or rings with genuine gemstones. It's rare to see him wear plaid, fur of any kind, or khakis. During the colder seasons, he wears over-sized sweaters and baggy jeans. During the warmer seasons, he embraces t-shirts as well as shorts. Most of his wardrobe is bought cheaply, sometimes from thrift stores, but he manages to make it work anyways. He's good at making something extraordinary from something mediocre. He takes care to keep his appearance neat and tidy. Personality: Barnabas is a young lad with a lot of confidence. He's very extroverted and has a playful, energetic and even flamboyant demeanor. He tends to notice whenever he's making people uncomfortable, and will cease what he's doing that makes them uncomfortable immediately. Unless he's making someone he doesn't like unhappy, then he'll immediately stop and apologize. He's excessively independent, to the point were he absolutely hates depending on anyone else. He believes that those who depend on others are weak. He doesn't like to be grouped with others, and likes to rely on his own strength because it makes him feel good about himself and stable. He truthfully loves and treasures his independence everyday. Whenever he gets ill, he usually tries to remain by himself. He secretly fears the diseases that plagued him returning to incapacitate him once more. He hates being around anyone who is sick, and is a bit of a germaphobe. He's a diligent worker. Whenever an acquaintance asks a favor of him, it'll usually be on the top of his priority list. He knows how to get work done. He doesn't crumble underneath pressure or deadlines, and he certainly isn't one to procrastinate. He's very supportive of those around him, and urges them to chase their dreams and goals without stopping. He encourages others to do what they wish with their lives, and to push through everything terrible that might be happening in their lives. Barnabas refuses to let anyone around him give up. He's actually very stubborn himself and refuses to give up. He also refuses to accept assistance when he needs it. He believes thoroughly in his own strength, perhaps to the point where it's foolish. Unfortunately, Barnabas is rather judgmental. Most first impressions made on him are made from appearance. He doesn't like people who have little to no fashion sense, and easily dislikes people he views as "slobs". Those who dress "too gaudily" annoy him. Barnabas is also rather indulgent and will often buy expensive items for himself and eat as much as he wants. He's also a bit smug after any victory he has. If he's beaten someone he dislikes in battle, then he'll tend to bring it up a lot and rub in their faces. If it's significant victory, then he'll become even more aggressive. Although, he isn't a sore loser and will easily train more instead of mope around and cry about his loss. He dislikes arrogant people, mostly because their own egos conflict with his own. Hobbies/Talents*: Sewing, sculpting, cooking Past/History: Barnabas was born to a wealthy doctor and interior decorator. Although his parents had been a happy couple, Barnabas was born as a very sickly child. He was hospitalized for most of his childhood, and was rarely at home. Due to this, he rarely was able to socialize with anyone his own age. Because of his condition, he could not play with other children very well. He spent most of his time around adults which caused him to mature very quickly. He was ill for a majority of his life, and even though he wasn't able to have a pokemon until he was much older, he loved the idea of being a pokemon trainer. The idea of being a pokemon trainer caused a spark to ignite within him. He now had a major goal to achieve. There was work to be done. While he was educated mostly by private tutors, he also obtained books about pokemon and worked on teaching himself about pokemon to the best of his abilities. After being released from his beyond long stay at the hospital, Barnabas enrolled in trainer school at a very late age. He was about fourteen when he enrolled, and after he realized that there was no need for him to be overly cold or mature, his flamboyant, energetic and superficial personality emerged. He was able to graduate at age sixteen, and easily obtained his starter from the region's professor, Professor Snowbell. He started his journey earlier than the other trainers, but has been summoned back to help with the recent influx of new, upcoming trainers. Pokemon: /Roxy/Female/Dragon Claw, Ember, Growl/Jolly Nature/Ability: Blaze/No held item</s> <|message|>Amelia Averyonna Amelia Amelia looked around the train apprehensively. She had been on it for a while now, her only comfort being the Litwick sitting on her right shoulder. It had been several days since she ran away from home, tired of being trapped and unable to do anything. Her parents would never have let her go on a journey, so she had to gather up the courage to go on one by herself. And she had, and she had used all the money she had to get a train ticket to the furthest region she could go to. Sighing to herself, she waited until the train finally came to a stop. Grabbing her bag, she got off the train as quickly as possible and out of the station even faster. She sighed to herself as she walked through town without much a destination. She simply wanted to find a place that could give her some free food, but she doubted any place in town would. Stopping by a map of the town, she saw it had a Pokémon Laboratory. Wondering if the Professor there would be kind enough to give her some food, she memorized the route and headed that way, ending up at the labs in a couple of minutes. Once in front of the door, she took a few seconds to gather herself before slowly entering. "H-hello?" She said, looking around, spotting the Professor and Barnabas. Her Litwick hopped off her shoulder and moved over to Charmeleon, looking up at the bigger Fire-type Pokémon.</s> <|message|>Sigurd Melodia "We are now arriving in Anvil Town. Remember to bring your luggage and have a nice day." Through the intercom the message repeated several times by a prerecorded voice of a male with a deep, upbeat Sigurd was in the land of the nod for the majority of the trip and still was having sweet dreams about battling the champion of the Unova region only to be victorious and become the champion himself. It seem like this idiot still wouldn't wake up and no one around him was trying to even disturb him from his slumber, well, everyone except for Sig's partner. Rusty, his Scraggy, was shaking his partner in vain of trying to get him to wake up so they wouldn't miss their stop. "Scrag, scrag!" The tiny pokemon pleaded with the sleeping blue haired boy, watching as a trail of drool ran down the boy's cheek as he smiled ever so dreamily. "Ahahaha...Hyper Beam...!" Sigurd mumbled in his sleep, raising his fist up lazily as if he was commanding his pokemon in battle. Cross veins that are found in animes appeared on Rusty's head and oh boy he was shaking in anger. "SCRAG!" A blue light glowed around the hoodlum pokemon's head and then leaped up and slammed Sigurd's head with a Zen Headbutt. The boy's eyes shot wide open and he held his forehead trying to dull the pain. Rusty chuckled triumphantly with its arms crossed. "What the hell Rusty?! What was that..." The boy with red eyes glanced out at the window and saw that they arrived at their destination. He could only grin with such enthusiasm that of a child with a new toy, if not even more so. He adjusted his coal black newsboy hat and looked down at his yellow reptilian friend. "Well Rusty, looks like our journey is about to start." The prerecorded voice spoke again suddenly. "We are now heading towards are next destination." "WAIT WAIT THIS IS MY STOP!!!" Sigurd cried out in sheer panic. Twenty minutes later both the young teen and Scraggy walked along the streets, admiring the sights and smells of the rustic town. It was so much different than Castelia City; the buildings weren't shadowing him and the air was so much fresher than the city air could ever hope to be. While he was here he decided to indulge himself with a little breakfast, just to have whatever delicacies this town had to offer. He bought coffee, black with no sugar, and a crepe that was rolled up as a burrito filled with fruit, syrup, and cottage cheese. Rusty was nibbling on an exceptionally large piece of toasted bread with oran berry jam and butter smothered all over it. Sigurd swallowed a large chunk he had bitten off. "Delicious! Now it's about time that we find that professor's lab don't you think?" The tanned skinned, blue haired, red eyed Unovian asked his little buddy who nodded in agreement. It wasn't hard to find the building; it was the only thing in town that looked modern at all. "This somehow feels completely out of place..." Sigurd shrugged and walked through the sliding door only to see Professor Snowbell and an extremely feminine looking young man with a charmeleon and a little girl with a litwick. "Greetings from Unova!" Sigurd grinned with as much suppressed joy he could use. Rusty on the other hand was sizing himself up with the larger reptilian pokemon.</s> <|message|>Vee Steam, cold temperature, backpack's weight and the annoying sound of petty chatting: The entirely of this made Nero realize how much he hated train stations, but it was the only way to arrive on his destination: Anvil Town. The industrial town which, at this time of the year, was likelly filled with... steam, cold temperature and the annoying sound of petty chatting. Oh, and his backpack would still weight at his back, amazing. As annoying as that all was, there was no way Nero would miss the opportunity to meet the prodigy professor in person, not at all. He didn't live that far, so he had heard about him - about everything, honestly. The boy glanced at the brown creature sitting by his shoulder - an Eevee - and his only pokémon, so far. He had no need to ask for a starter pokémon, something nearly every starting trainer would do, still, perhaps some information of value would be given to him, something that'd motivate him towards his objetive of becoming a champion, even... The train stopped and what followed after was the chaotic movement of the crowd, all leaving at the same time. Nero recalled his pokémon to avoid losing ir or harming it even, seeing how he himself was hit by a taller someone's shoulder at least tree times, he never wished for a sharp object so much before. Nonetheless, step after step, he made his way towards the town, glancing occasionally at a town map he had in his hands. A few more steps and there was the boy in front of the seemingly most technologically developed building in this whole town. The boy entered, wordlessly; there were a number of individuals inside, but Nero's eyes focused instantly on the professor. A hint of a smile, which rapidly got replaced by a frown. The boy kept himself quiet, taking a few steps to the side, his hands pocketed in his jacket.</s>
<|message|>Barnabas Bell Barnabas pepped up at the sight of two to-be trainers entering the laboratory. He was glad to see that the others wouldn't take too long to arrive. He really didn't want to be left alone with Professor Snowbell for too long. If the two newcomers had been here earlier, it would be likely that Barnabas wouldn't even have bothered greeting the Professor. Amelia definitely seemed a bit more timid. But that was natural. It was rare for someone as young-looking as her to be starting their journey so early. Barnabas gave a pleasant grin, lacing his fingers together as he peered over at Sigurd and Amelia. This time, the smile reached his eyes, which crinkled up in amusement. "Nice to meet you." Barnabas stated cheerfully. Roxy peered down at the Litwick and Scraggy, greeting the two with a small snort. "Yes, yes, I am Professor Snowbell." The professor greeted, pausing afterwards as though awaiting for impressed applause. "You'll be getting... starter pokemon and pokedexes which were just shipped in today by the lazy bastards in charge of it. That's what this little... one is here for." The Professor complained slightly to the kids, before he swiped a huge brown bag off of a nearby bookshelf. He spilled the contents, which were seventeen different pokeballs, each holding a different starter.</s>
<|description|>Avary Muse Age: 13 Gender: Male Appearance: Future Specialization: Necromancer Summon(s): Lowest grade Ice Elemental Summon(s) appearance: Other: (anything I forgotten) Dark and brooding</s> <|message|>Avarius Elthandeir "Angie" he says to the angel with a big smile, ignoring the doc's comment about names. Avarius addresses the angel that healed him. "I will call you Angie then, thank you very much for your aid, it is a wonderful gift you have and I feel great now." He proceeds to roll his shoulder both testing and demonstrating its condition. Before turning back to the doc he gives a grateful nod to the summon. Avarius had only been here for a few hours and already he grew tiresome of the rules and boundaries. He had never much liked the school-like structure. There was little room for freedom, creativity or growth. Once again for the many-ith time today someone tried to confine his interests and label and categorise what he would become. -'Pick and choose, what will you summon, What will you specialise in, what is your plan,'- ... Defiantly, full of heart he replies. "My plan is to become the greatest summoner ever! I will specialise in forming bonds of freedom and mutual benefits. I'll show the world that summons are not just tools."</s> <|message|>Charles McCloud Light The doctor would get annoyed at first being ignored then when he heard his plan he shook his head "you can go home now" he says to the angel and she vanishes then he looks at Avarius "your an idiot.. do you see summoners treating their summons like tools?" he asks "most summoners treat them like family.. if the summon doesn't want to do something they can simply not do it" he states "we don't control their actions" he shakes his head "if that's your plan for the future you better just leave the school right now and head home" he states "we specialize in order to improve ourselves, you can't draw on your full power if you don't choose a type of category to focus on" he states "you wont even be a 10th grade summoner if you don't specialize in something" he shakes his head "like I specialize in heaven and hell" he states "I'm a 3rd grade summoner, the head master is a 1st grade summoner who could level this entire place in a blink of an eye of he wanted to" he says. "your future strength all depends on your choices at this school, what you choose to specialize in, how much do you specialize into it" he states shaking his head "not to mention your future standing to the government.. incase you didn't know, if you prove to be useless entirely, and can't even do simple tasks for the world, your summoning powers will be sealed and taken away from you" he states "you'll never be able to summon again" he shakes his head "unless you plan to become and illegal summoner, and fight the government and have probably most of your old class mates coming for your behind"</s> <|message|>Asad Dumas Asad had no trouble during the marathon against the golem. Such exercises were practically the norm for him during his training under Medusa. Unfortunately meditation was out of his skill set, he could fill Eira faintly but couldn't seem to connect to her no matter how hard he concentrated on her. He scowled a bit when Koga said they should be ready to expel their summons power. That meant he was falling behind. "Snowflake, I could really use your help right now..." He muttered under his breath hoping Eira would somehow hear him. "I'm hopeless at this kind of thing so I need you to pick up my slack, Kiddo."</s> <|message|>Vincent Validosta The two quieted down when Koga began speaking again. Channelling the power of the summon to you and use it. That was basically what he was saying right? "Right, right, that. Yeah, I'm willing to help!" Skelly said. Vincent then recalled how their powers were in sync upon summoning him. With the aid of Skelly, he managed to do it. This was something he couldn't read in the books so this was a first time experience, blindly stumbling into the basics. Although it was quite simple once he learned how to do it. He took a deep breath as he felt the power channel into him. He raised his palm upwards and then focused the energy there. It wasn't soon until a small ball of black energy appeared at the center of his palm. A little more concentration made it shoot out into the open air. Vincent grinned as he looked at the fading ball of darkness and then to his palm. "Good job Vincy!" Skelly exclaimed in his mind. Vincent didn't reply but he did nod and he knew Skelly felt that. That was pretty cool. To think he would be able to do that in a much larger scale and without meditating, the idea of it really makes him smile.</s> <|message|>Avarius Elthandeir Like water off a ducks back the doctors words fail to settle on or affect Avarius. "You have two specialities yet hide them under the guise of one, your beliefs allow you to tie them together" he replies argumentatively. "Traditions can guide, but followed too loyally without question will only hinder and bind greater progress. This establishment seeks to categorise, list, order, rank and control not only the summons but the summoner's as well. I too fear it will only take me so far." Unwavering in his decisiveness Avarius jumps from the bed and leaves the room, catching his class as they start to expel summoned energy into the air. Quickly taking a seat he tries to follow on, occasionally bothering those around him for advice. To his left a black ball forms in a students hand. Void of any light, it then shot out into the air. The boy smiled proudly with accomplishment. Avarius gives him a little elbow nudge, "how'd you do that?"@Polaris North</s> <|message|>Vincent Validosta Light Vincent was still impressed and surprised by what he did by the time Avarius nudged and asked him about it. He was about to ask why he wanted to know given that he should've listened to Koga but quickly saw that he was the same guy that kind of got sent to the nurse's office twice this day. Probably explains why he doesn't know. "Well you first meditate and communicate with your summon. Once you do that, remember the feeling at the last part of your summon when you powers aligned." He wasn't sure if the latter would apply to Avarius but that's what he needed. He then continued, "Then you concentrate that power to the palm of your hand, point it at the sky and shoot it out. Your summon should help you out."</s> <|message|>Lazzerus "Laz" Zale North Lance listened to what Vincent was explaining to Avarius, Lance blocked out everything and began to focus. He felt himself dive deep inside himself. "you there Rajin?" Lance said telepathically. "yeah I'm here" Rajin replied, now that he knew that him and Rajin were connected, he tried to imagine energy flowing out through body, he held his arm straight up and felt a tingling sensation. Reminding him of when he made the contract with his summons, soon lighting starting conducting on his forearm. He then looked at his arm and saw the lighting. He then shot a small beak into the sky. He watched is it went a short distance soon dissipating into nothingness.</s> <|message|>Avarius Elthandeir To Vincent's dismay, Avarius was painfully good and adapt at the skill. As he spoke them, Avarius was following the instructions without a single tell tale sign of struggle or concentration. A gently soft breeze began to flow freely from his hand, but that was only the beginning. The boy closes his eyes and feels the energy. A second more powerful wave trickled down his arm towards his hand, but before it reached there or could be expelled Avarius clasps his hands together in front of himself and the energy transfers into the other arm as it continues to build. He never could just follow instructions. He inhaled deeply as he directed the magic to his chest, that was his mistake. The gust of wind exploded free into his already filled lungs violently stretching and pushing up against the inner walls before it quickly escaped his mouth amongst a coughing fit as a small gust that threatened to hit Lance right in the face. Avarius doubled over in pain taking erratic irregular breaths in between loudly coughing and spluttering. His throat burnt and his lungs were internally bruised, along with the muscles and ribs that surrounded them. He had nearly inflated himself like a balloon. His body didn't enjoy that at all and was letting him know. Trying to hold a straight face, Avarius settles with tiny soft breaths as tears swell hidden in his eyes. He looks to Lance to see if he accidentally hit him with the gust of wind. @Polaris North</s> <|message|>Vincent Validosta @Dark Light Vincent took notice that someone else had listened in to his little reply and smiled as Lance started to do the exercise. It wasn't long until lightning appeared from his forearm and shot out into the sky. So that was his first element huh? Lightning, sounds good to him, really. Looks awesome too. "Nice going there Lance." He said with a thumbs up before looking back at Avarius. The guy had no struggle at all. Well, it was a pretty easy exercise and considering the marathon the preceded this exercise, this was relatively easier. Vincent was about to say good job to him as well when he felt the gust of wind, however, it seems Avarius wanted to take it up a notch. The guy made some extra movements, movements that Vincent did not understand, and then seemed to inhale deeply. It seemed to be going well, whatever he wanted to do, until he started coughing violently. A powerful gust of wind was exhaled from Avarius's mouth and towards Lance. Vincent quickly took initiative to push Lance out of the way. The gust didn't hit Vincent, that was for sure and he breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up and looked back at Avarius who seemed to have recovered from his coughing fit. He wasn't going to start scolding him now, Vincent was more than sure that a teacher would do more effect than him, so he sighed and sat down again. "Hey that was dangerous. You could've gotten someone else hurt." Vincent pointed out. From what had happened, Vincent could make a little hypothesis. Avarius might have decided to store magic energy within his torso area, and since it was wind, it quickly built up to his already filled lungs (hinted by his deep inhalation earlier) and then his body threatened to pop. So the body did the next best thing, exhaling the wind as quickly as possible resulting to Avarius's coughing fit. However, in that coughing fit was the pent up magic causing the powerful gust of wind that could probably knock someone back and give them a few bruises. From that, Vincent could say that Avarius sustained internal damage. "Maybe you should go back to the nurse." He suggested.</s> <|message|>Charles McCloud North @Dark Light @pkken Koga would be standing behind Avarius tapping his food "what do you think your doing..." he states bit of anger in his voice "I did not say you was allowed to do anything more than I had already stated" he says as Avarius can sudden feel the hit of exhaustion hit him from over extending his energy. "What would you of done if you killed yourself or one of the other students!" He shouts. "If your not going to listen, and learn at the pace I put for you then you need to leave immediately" he states "I'm pushed you to the physical exhaustion in order to free your mind of all other thoughts, I only had you do one thing in summoning so far as to ensure you would be able to keep training and not risk the life of those around you!!" He shouts "I will not teach a student who doesn't value his own life or that of others"</s> <|message|>Avarius Elthandeir 'You could have hurt someone' the words were truth and stung Avarius. But like his lungs they only held pain if he gave it focus, right now he would admit to neither. He rolls his shoulder as he begins to speak. "Shoulders still a bit sore, you know, from when your golem attacked me. Had to find a different point to expel from. I got it this time, the release point is my lips not my lungs." he winces with an awkward smug smile. "It's not like I'm throwing fire or lightning, I just didn't expect it to release on contact with the air in my lungs." Despite his words Avarius sat submissively defeated, with that air so too went his energy. He wasn't used to this environment or being surrounded by so many people. He didn't want to hurt anyone nor did he want to leave yet. Drained, sore and exhausted Avarius fell in line. (For now)</s> <|message|>Lazzerus "Laz" Zale North@Dark Light@olcharlieboi Lance turned to Vincent as he complimented his ability, Lance nodded with a small smile to show his thanks. Shortly after Attempted to take the training exercise a little farther and sent a gust of wind towards Lance but vincent pushed him out the way in time. "Thanks.." Lance said getting himself off the floor. Soon Koga came an started scolding Avarius, Lance listened as he brushed himself off.</s> <|message|>Vincent Validosta Light@pkken@olcharlieboi As expected, Koga entered the fray and then scolded Avarius once more. He was harsher this time, not using physical force but words. It was a little harsh though. Sure, someone could've gotten hurt but it would probably just blow someone away and give them bruises but it was probably not bad enough to kill somebody. Vincent didn't voice out anything though so he just looked at them. Avarius seemed like the type of guy who thinks out of the box and tries everything else no matter how dangerous it is. As a curious person, Vincent could relate to his want to do something else but he never acted upon them because it was pretty dangerous.</s> <|message|>Charles McCloud North @pkken @Dark Light Koga would rub his forehead and groan some and walk away from then then turn back to the students "I'll only say this once!" he states "Trying to experiment with your summoning abilities at your current stage of development will only result in injury and majority of the time death" he states to all of them "Like our student here did an example off.. he was lucky to get off with injury, if he hadn't lost concentration he could of ended up causing himself to explode" he states shaking his head "Always ask permission from me, Oni, or the headmaster if you want to experiment with anything so we can tell you of the risks... and if your even capable of doing something at your current level of development" he states. He would then stand back as the rest of the students did their first channeling, even Charles who was watching the scene play out.... with bit of an angry look at Avarius, Charles has seen some students die in this school so it doesn't sit well with him seeing another student try something. He would close his eyes and put his hand out into the air, his emotions would be mixed into it slightly causing a strong gust of wind to eject out from his hand into the air before dissipating. After the students finish Koga would look over all of them "everyone stand up" he states "Now we'll go on a trip" he states and starts walking towards the treeline heading east "Keep up, Keep up" he shouts to them.</s>
<|message|>Avary Muse "If we somehow happened to succeed with experimenting with our summons, what would happen?" Avary asked Koga.</s>
<|description|>Onyx Bright Age: 19 Gender: Female Appearance: Onyx has black hair and green cat eyes. The skin of her entire body is covered in short, soft cheetah-patterned fur, except her wings and face. She is missing her left ear and has a scar on her left cheek from a fight she was in a while back. Her wings are like the wings of a brown hawk, and her wingspan is twice her arm span. She usually wears a shawl so that her wings are hidden unless she is flying. Equipment: 3 or 4 small knives (and other tools), a pair of restored Twin Pistols, and a basic med-pack. Physical Abilities: Flight, 6th sence(hunting/tracking), Speed & Agility, Stealth. Background: Onyx's species, the Elissics, live in the mountains and old cities found there. They could be categorized as a frightening predator and enemy to all creatures, as they have barely any ability to distinguish one race of creature from another from the air, and there's barely any escape once they swoop down on their prey. They are not a particularly smart race, they can't understand old human language and can just barely manage to put back together the few relics they find from humans. They can only make crude weaponry, and are fairly simple with the other things they make as well. Their society is broken up into many nomadic tribes across the region, each having their own unique color of wings, and they have no unified head of power, so they will often fight with each other when the different tribes meet. Onyx herself is a bit different from the others in her tribe… she likes to be alone, rather than hunting in a group, and will keep trying towards her goal until she figures out how to get there. Instead of trying to fly over the tallest mountain and tiring herself out, possibly even getting sick, she'll look for the shortest path around. She's better with strategy and quick moves than drawn-out fights and trying to compensate for a group. Because of this, she is sort of left out of everything, and she doesn't care because she doesn't want to have to feel like she can't say what's on her mind. She is often given solo missions that really don't make much difference around the tribe, and whenever she's not on a mission will fly in random patterns around the mountains, usually ending up at a large lake (or small sea) where she likes to fish using an old net she had found nearby the first time she had gone there. Onyx, just like the rest of the Elissics, doesn't worry much about the state of the world or how it got that way. They all live completely in the moment.</s> <|message|>Onyx Bright Onyx led Tarentek to Daimos and the others, who watched them the entire way. When they reached the group, no one said anything, so Onyx decided to do introductions. "Everyone, this is Tarentek. Tarentek, meet Daimos, Kesi, Akili, Geda, and Helaheim." Onyx motioned to each of them as she said their names, and each of them nodded or waved in responce. "Yea, and this is Onyx. Though I guess you know that already." Daimos said as he stepped up next to Onyx and placed an arm across her shoulders. "My name means 'King-like', so of course I'm the leader here. Onyx isn't really one of us, but she's good for when we need another person to play Felldan with us." He shrugged as Onyx forced him to let go of her to go stand by Akili. "Wha- Of course she's a part of our group! She's my friend." Kesi said to Daimos as she attempted to cling to Onyx's arm. Looking at Tarentek now she spoke coldly. "My name means 'Trouble'. Keep that in mind if you try to mess with me or anyone else." Onyx was about to tell Kesi off when Geda stepped forward and held out his hand to Tarentek. "Geda. Means 'Rock'. Nice to meet ya." He was immediately followed by Helaheim, who nodded to Tarentek but did not copy Geda's gesture. "I am Helaheim, and that means 'Guardian'. Me and Geda are twins, I'm the more talkative one." Akili was silently watching what happened, and made no move to say anything before Onyx prodded her. "Akili, your turn." With a sigh she gave in. "Greetings. Im 'Intuitive'." Leaning in to Onyx she whispered, "Is it safe to be around him?" "Careful Akili, he might hear you." Onyx whispered back before speaking so everyone could hear. "Now, I assure you all that he's more worried that you'll attack him than ant of you should be about him attacking you. He was near-dead just yesterday, he doesn't have the energy to waste."</s> <|message|>Tarentek Tarentek stood stoic through the introductions, trying to make sure he remembered each name and what they said about themselves. He had started to gather that the meanings of their names were important to them, moreso than with his own people. In Amman, names almost always had meaning, but since those names were given shortly after hatching, their actual meanings were not strictly assumed to apply to the individual. He supposed that might also be the case with the Elissics, but they at least seemed to speak of their names more frequently in introductions. "She is certainly not wrong. My wounds were severe, and it will likely be another week before I am fully recovered." Tarentek explained, though with his robe covering all except his head, and the very end of his tail that poked out from under his robe near his feet, the evidence of his injuries were not visible. "Fortunately, starvation and thirst were a greater threat to me than anything else, so I believe I will be fine. At any rate, as Onyx said, my name is Tarentek. Its meaning is 'Favored-of-the-Gods.' I do not know a great deal about your people, but I find I am learning much today."</s> <|message|>Onyx Bright Everyone seemed to calm down after what Tarentek said, so Daimos spoke up. "Well, Onyx told us already that you wanted to know what we do for fun here. Wanna watch us play a round of Felldan?" No one spoke against the idea, so Onyx began to explain the rules to Tarentek, as well as the point of the game, while the others cleared an area big enough to play in. "Felldan is a game involving two teams, usually having three people on each and the members of each being the opposite gender than the other team. It is exactly the same as another game, Heildan, except in Felldan it is against the rules to fly. There are two objects, one belonging to each team, that the team has to guard while attempting to take the other team's object as well. The objects may be carried or left i one spot to guard, but once a choice is made then that is how it must stay for the rest of the round." Akili Interrupted her then. "For example, if a team decides to have their object carried by a member of their team, then that team member is the only one allowed to carry and guard the object, and they can't put it down either. The round is won by the team that gets the two objects together first."</s> <|message|>Tarentek "Certainly, I would not mind watching a game." Tarentek said to Daimos, then looked around briefly for a place nearby to take a seat. There were no convenient rocks like last time, but there was an area of the ground that looked to be out of the way. "My people do not have a game like this one, but we had other sports with similar concepts. I was quite fond of playing them myself, especially with my fellow warriors. Sports can serve as great exercise, as well as great team-building and morale-building events. In Amman, they were not something one ever quite grew out of. I think every settlement has at least one game they like to play, though I tend to prefer the ones that allow for a wide variety of tactics and strategies. This one seems to fit that description; although, I do not know exactly how it is played yet. I suppose I will see for myself once you begin, but I am curious, why is it that the two teams must be of opposite genders?" Tarentek questioned. Among the Karisskan, males and females were nearly identical apart from their roles in reproduction, so any sort of gender separation was entirely foreign to them.</s> <|message|>Onyx Bright "The teams represent Heillias and Fellagang fighting over the support of the people, or here the two objects." Onyx explained. "The team of males represent Fellagang because he represents Spirit, and the team of females represent Heillias and Heart. Back when the game was made many believed that males always had a slightly stronger spirit than females, who were believed to always have a stronger heart because of the role of raising a family." "Speaking of the two objects, what are we going to use?" Helaheim asked Daimos. Daimos thought for a moment and pulled out a knife. "We can use this as one of them." He said while Helaheim and Geda agreed with him. "No! You can't use a knife to represent the people! It has to be something that actually is like the people." Kesi cried. "Oh yeah, like what?" Daimos snapped back. "Like, something soft and beautiful, like me." She grinned at her joke while Onyx started to growl at her. "How can you be so...!" Onyx trailed off, not allowing her anger to get the best of her. "Oh, Onyx! We can use your shawl!" Kesi said, ignoring Onyx's growl. "It's soft, and the pattern is beautiful." She walked up behind Onyx fast enough that Onyx couldn't stop her from taking her shawl from her. "Well great. You guys have your item, what's wrong with ours?" Daimos said. "Maybe you should use a rock or something." Akili offered with a laugh. "There's no rule about what to use. The knife is fine." Onyx said tiredly. "Can we just start the game please?" "Yea. Just figure out what you're gonna do with your object. Game starts when mister 'Favored-of-the-Gods' over there says." Daimos called over to her as his team began to talk among themselves. Onyx motioned the others closer so they could do the same. "Can I please carry my shawl at least?" "Yea, but don't tie it around your neck like you normally do or those idiots will choke you when they try and get it away." Akili whispered as Kesi passed Onyx's shawl back to her. "That means me and Kesi will be working on getting the knife from them though. You'll be on the defense all on your own." "I've no problem with that plan. Daimos gave the knife to Geda to hold." Kesi said before yelling to the boys. "You better keep that thing sheathed! No injuries this time!" "Alright, I'm going to tell Tarentek to start the game now." Onyx said as she retied her shawl around her waist, just below her wings, and walked over to Tarentek. "Daimos wants you to signal the start of the game. Personally I don't care how you start it, just do whatever you want to. Most adults like to shout 'Felldan' to start it though." Onyx didn't wait to hear anything Tarentek may have said before going back to her team and taking a stance between Kesi and Akili to wait for the start of the game.</s> <|message|>Tarentek Tarentek still found it strange that Elissics could have different attributes just based on their gender, but as he thought about it, he started to make some sense of it. Male and Female Karisskan had the same average height, weight, strength, coloration, and most other physical characteristics, but that did not seem to be true of the Elissics. It was quite visibly obvious which ones were male and female, even tot he untrained eyes of other races. It was possible they had different attributes, which created differences between them in their culture. It was something he could ask about later; for the moment, he focused on watching the game. As the group was making their plans, Tarentek was a bit surprised to hear his name mentioned. For whatever reason, Daimos said he wanted Tarentek to start the game, though he was not really sure when that would be appropriate. He would have asked, but the two groups quickly huddled together, presumably to make plans for the game. Tarentek was silent and confused when Onyx finally walked over, and he remained confused as she returned to her group. "Felldan? Wait, what does 'felldan' mean?" Tarentek asked as Onyx was walking away, but he received no answer. With the two groups waiting for his signal, however, he had to say something. "Uhh...Felldan?" Tarentek shouted with noticeable uncertainty in his voice.</s>
<|message|>Onyx Bright Even though he sounded fairly confused, Tarentek started the game well. Onyx could hear the hushed laughs from her teammates as they rushed forward to confront Geda. She was only able to watch their skirmish for a short amount of time however, because Helaheim and Daimos were beside her in seconds. Daimos almost got hold of the shawl around her waist, but Onyx sidestepped out of the way so he almost ended up falling on his face. Not stopping for even a moment, Onyx kept dodging Daimos until she accidentally backed into Helaheim, who then tried to immobilize her so Daimos could untie the shawl from her waist. "Onyx! We got the knife from Geda! Hurry up and give those two the slip!" Onyx couldn't see Kesi, but the victorious lilt in her voice was enough to make Onyx smile right in Daimos's face. "That's my cue." Onyx said as she ducked out from Helaheim's grip and started towards Kesi and Akili, who were throwing the knife between the two of them so that Geda couldn't get it back. Onyx nearly tripped though, because Daimos still had a grip on the shawl around her waist. Turning quickly, Onyx raked her claws across his hand, causing him to let go. She didn't smell any blood, so she knew she had only surprised him, rather than actually injuring him. Untying the shawl as she ran over to Akili, Onyx waited for Kesi to throw the knife to one of them so they could win the game. A second later, Akili caught the knife and passed it to Onyx, who held up the two items in victory. "Heillias wins this round!" Daimos, Helaheim, and Geda all walked up to her and congratulated their team, while Onyx gave the knife back to Daimos. Daimos shook his head at Onyx while the others started arguing about whether or not they should play another round.</s>
<|description|>Leo A young turtle named Leo, who possesses a calm and composed demeanor. He has a sense of humor and enjoys interacting with others, particularly with his friend April. Despite being focused on his training and concerned about the dangers outside the sewers, he finds comfort in spending time with April.</s> <|description|>April A determined and diligent individual who works as a news reporter. She is dedicated to her job, often staying late or working alone when necessary. Her personality is marked by professionalism and focus, but she also enjovers a friendly rapport with her turtle friends.</s> <|narrator|>After training outside the city, Leonardo makes his way back to the sewers using stealth. Meanwhile, April leaves work and decides to visit her turtle friends before heading home. Both characters independently navigate their way towards the same location in the sewers. As they approach each other, they spot each other and wave. Leo asks what's up with his turtle brothers, and they catch up on their daily lives while sharing a lighthearted moment together.</s> <|message|>Leo After a long day of training somewhere outside the city of Manhattan, Leonardo made his way back towards the sewers, using the shadows of the night to slip by the civilians unnoticed. With his mastery of stealth, he dove down through a manhole behind an antique shop, knowing that no one really went around there very often. He took one last look around before jumping down.</s> <|message|>April April jumped out of her news van, ready to go home after punching out. She was about to go to her apartment on the fourth floor, but she decided to pay her turtle friends a visit before she went home for dinner. She climbed back into the driver's seat of the van. Her cameraman had gone home an hour before and she was left to drive home on her own. She stopped outside an old Chinese restaurant and grill. April parked on the curb and walked down an alley between the restaurant and the old antique shop. She came to the manhole cover and cracked it open. When she could see down inside, she grabbed a ladder rung set into the cement wall. She flipped on a flashlight and then made her descent to find her pals.</s> <|message|>Leo Leonardo wasn't too far ahead of her, walking down the sewer pipes, humming softly to himself, his sword resting on his back. With a yawn, Leo paused in his steps to stretch, looking around him, getting the feeling of being followed by the sound of faint splashing water echoing through the pipes.</s> <|message|>April April broke into a sprint as she splashed through green puddles and ducked under slimy pipes. She took a sharp turn around the corner and found a missing brick in a long wall crack, and knew she was on the right track to the turtle's lair. She was almost there when she saw Leonardo. She slowed her pace when she saw him waiting. She waved, trying to be obvious enough for him to see her. "Hey Leo!"</s>
<|message|>Leo Leo turned to her, smiling when he saw that it was April, walking towards her as she came to him. "Hey April, what's up?" he asked, stopping when he was right in front of her. Leo was always glad to see April; lately, talking with her seemed to take his mind off the constant strain on his training and worries about the dangers outside the sewers. Leo laughed a bit and gave her a soft shrug. "Well, not really," he said. "Raph is still up to his usual bullshit, Donnie (Donatello's nickname) keeps himself busy with his own work, and Mikey has just been kicking back since the last time you came by."</s>
<|description|>Crystal von Caelestis The Mundane Age: 16 Sanctum City: Norba Description: Crystal stands at 5 feet 7 inches and weighs 143 pounds. She has above-average musculature, built from good genes and rather extreme physical training. She has black hair usually tied in twintails and hazel eyes that seem to pierce through what they look at. She tends to be slouched somewhat when she's not taking something seriously, which is most of the time. Personality: Crystal is a mixed-bag of personality traits, according to the psychologist she visits on a monthly basis. She is not shy, but is quiet and keeps to herself. She is not outgoing, but can become overexcited by the things she enjoys. She is usually calm, and often confident, but the times when she's not she tends to reach the other extreme of hyperactive or pessimistic, respectively. She tends to spend her free time drawing or reading, often both being based around manga, though she also enjoys drawing more realistic styles as well. She is also almost always preoccupied with writing stories to go with her art. Crystal has the bad habits of chewing gum and, strangely, blowing air up from her mouth towards her forehead, usually messing up her bangs. She has the affliction of obsessive compulsive disorder, though with her medication one would never know it. When she is unable to take them, however, she becomes a nervous wreck and her habits explode in severity. Background: Crystal von Caelestis is a part of the extended family of the Jupiter family of the Duodecim. That is to say, she is a cousin of the heir to the family. Or rather, she would be if her uncle had a child. As it stands, she and her cousins are all later in line than a nonexistent relative for purposes of succession. Once her uncle marries and has children, they will be the next generation of the Jupiter family line. As such, she was raised in a very noble-esque environment in which she was given great freedom to pursue her interests while also being taught and trained at a higher level than most. She is skilled in the arts not because she wished to be, but because she must be in order to properly represent the Caelestis family. She is in good physical shape and skilled with weapons not because she has passion for it, but because she must be able to defend herself and others if necessary. She only recently discovered that she has access to magic, and was very quickly enrolled in Nova Lux Academy. As such, she feels rushed and out of place. The Magical Armgaus Name: Frozen Blue Sapphire Gladius: Parma: Elementum: Ice Elementum Abilities: Crystal can both form ice from nowhere and remove heat from an area, causing coldness to form. She is able to freeze things with a touch, or with some effort do so without physical contact. While she cannot do things like throwing spears of ice telepathically, she can certainly create them in such a way as to pierce a target without needing to be moved. Her ability to remove heat from an area usually manifests as control of the temperature surrounding her, and a distaste of heat means that she often uses this trick when she is able to use magic at all to help keep her cooled off. Somewhat strangely, her magic has minor purifying properties; freezing water with her magic will also remove most impurities from it.</s> <|message|>Aoife Sturmgaard --- Aoife spun in and out of the crowd, each time her team had spied her, she'd be with a new partner. Both left feet in full swing as her moves were significantly jauntier than need be. Still, with this unceasing damage to her charisma unfolding for everyone to see, what a prize she was. A symbol, of an unwavering, unabashed, joy. Everyone wanted to dance with the clumsy Ars Magi, not because of her talent, but because of what her dance said, albeit with stutters and run on sentences aplenty. Even this girl, who had seen the yawning void beyond their walls, who had begun to carry the weight of a humanity who would persevere, even she, could enjoy a night of dancing, still. Eventually, a shock of blonde hair found her arms and swept her away from the drooling masses. Her hair spinning wide around her, curtailing Noel's move to dip her into a lower stance. "Hey babe," says her former partner. Aoife laughs a throaty chuckle, flicking either eyebrow up and down and puckering her lips. "Oh, hey baby," that last note hanging in the air. "It's good to see you again!" Time apart from other Ars Magi was always nebulous. Even a week-long goodbye was heavy for these girls. If you knew you'd not be there for their next mission, not there to potentially make the difference that could save someone's life. Noel lightning blitzed through a few key details of her week's past and upcoming. Aoife got caught on her general static energy. Just the nature of a girl conducive to being absolutely charged at all times. Aoife nodded in great excitement at the prospect of getting to work together once again. "Water and lightning, is there a better combination?" She giggled. The music's pace quickened, and so too did Noel's movements. "You'd think for the Ars Magi of water I'd have a better flow than this." Aoife chuckled under breath and, for a moment, she considered perhaps trying a bit harder. Perhaps, if she thought about dancing like her movements in battle, it would be easier. All of the sudden, she was fighting this strange longing. This urge to perfect the dance she so clearly was stumbling through. Aoife reached up to her hair, pulling on a small ribbon that kept the ensemble up and eloquent. It fell gracefully upon her shoulders as she tied a small knot around her and Noel's hand with the ribbon. "If you lead, I'll follow." She gave herself over to her partner, closing her eyes completely. Darkness enveloped her, the music faded and people turned towards them, but Aoife saw none of it. She braced herself, breathed deep, and then Noel began to move. Aoife felt the step through Noel's hand and into her own body, as if it was simply an extension of herself. She moved in time, stepping as well. The two began a fairly simple, yet completely elegant dance. They spun around one another, Aoife a whole new girl. Her eyes closed, hair down, still somehow moving in time with her partner. She looked like an oracle. For such an unprofessional girl, it was sometimes surprising how much she was capable of changing. Like the tides. She wondered if her team could see her, or who they had ended up dancing with. She felt her lips crack into a big, toothy grin, as the music seemed to follow Aoife and Noel on their journey around the ballroom, stepping in and around everybody with a care and ease like a river flowing around a rocky shoreline.</s> <|message|>益頭知絵 --- --- "Cayman Sow..." Chie repeated inside her thoughts. An odd name to her, something unlike anything else she's heard before. She repeated it a few times in the safety of her own mind as her new partner guided the two of them through the initial steps of the dance. Chie was stiffer than when she'd danced with Selma, and this officer-to-be didn't take long to catch onto that. He commented on Chie's nerves, tried reassuring her. Didn't really help, in the end. Chie's clumsy dancing was but one of many factors leading to her continued discomfort. "Is this the first time you've been to a ball, Chie?" the boy asked of her. "Mhm... yeah," she gave as a short but clear reply. The boy went on about how most of the Ars Magi aren't used to this, prompting Chie to look up at him and tilt her head a bit. "Is that... so?" she asked. "I'm from Calcaria... I never went to something like this, there. My team all seemed familiar with it, though... so I thought I was just an exception," she explained, opening up a bit to her dance partner. Chie briefly pondered her last statement, then opened her mouth again to ask something herself. "And you officers? Are you split into teams like us Magi?" she asked of him. "I don't know much of the officer school. Could you tell me a bit about it?"</s>
<|message|>Crystal von Caelestis Crystal glanced in the direction Castra had gone before slumping her shoulders just barely enough to be noticeable. "Thank you, Liam. I appreciate it. If you wish to dance, however, it would be wrong of me to refuse." She took a moment to look the boy over before continuing, regardless of whether the two began to dance or not. "Though if I may offer some advice to the one who saved me from losing my mind in public... Take those lessons." Crystal smiled softly, the first time since she got to the ball. There's practical reasons, but I assume a boy would more care about the way dancing has been made into a courting process. It's silly, but not everyone will find skipping out on the formality endearing." Her smile turned to a frown. "Apologies. I didn't intend to be as condescending as I sounded." She continued without waiting for a response, finding herself rambling now, likely to her future detriment. "I've been forbidden from using my usual coping mechanism for stress, and have more than I should for a self-imposed reason. Then there's the heat from sticking so many people in one location, the speech that went on and yet nowhere, the need to keep up appearances... Though it's selfish of me to be under such duress when everyone is experiencing those things all the same." The quiet girl was talking more than she normally would as a way to keep her mind occupied. When she noticed this, she stopped, her eyes widening slightly as she caught herself. "And now I'm rambling and making a fool of myself. Once again you have my apologies." Depending on whether the young man wished to dance regardless, Crystal would find herself in one of two realities. As Crystal took position to begin, she seemed to outsiders to be a bastion of stoicism. In truth, the familiar steps took almost no effort after having them seared into her mind from practice and helped alleviate her mind a little. Though a particularly observant partner might notice how Crystal's grip got slightly too tight when it was necessary to tighten, and slightly too loose when it wasn't; how her steps were slightly too light, as if she were stepping on ice and trying not to slip. However, as the dance wound down to a close, she was again smiling, regardless of how well her partner had faired. "That was surprisingly pleasant. Thank you once again, Liam." she curtseyed once again with her non-existent skirt and began looking for her teammates, her social obligations hopefully fulfilled for the day. Thanking Liam for his assistance, Crystal would look around at her teammates, hopeful that they were nearing the end of their own dances. She felt selfish, but she really did want to present her work to them. Though the thought of their opinions being negative towards it brought her stress levels back up. She could only hope that she'd get a chance to show them and that they'd at least have some constructive criticism.</s>
<|description|>Russel Appearance: Russel is tall and lean, around 6 foot. Super Name: Teek Age: 19 Human/Machine/Other: Alien (He's not actually part of a certain species) Powers: Telekinesis- The ability to move, warp, throw, etc. etc. things with his mind. This power can be used on an incredibly large scale, but the more effort he has to put into affecting his target, the more exhausted and weakened he will be. Regeneration- His abnormal genetics allow him to heal wounds on his body. As with telekinesis, the more effort he has to put into healing a wound, the more exhausted he will be. Weakness: Seeeeeeeecreeeeeeeeet. Personality: Russel is a quiet person. But that doesn't mean he likes to stay in the sidelines. He enjoys working with others, as long as they're personable. Russel won't stand for people being picked on by people stronger than them. Grade: Third Year Club: He sort of just hangs around wherever he's feeling like at the time, if people let him. He would probably commit to a single club if it interested him enough. Other: Powers. He never takes his respirator off, and rarely speaks.</s> <|message|>Xiu Yong Upon coming to Sky High, Xiu Yong was immediately placed into on-campus housing when her host family decided against having her at the last minute. By on-campus housing, that meant taking refuge on an unused multipurpose classroom hastily converted into a make shift bedroom. Afterall, Sky High wasn't intended to have dormitories. She didn't mind at all though. With the massive windows of the classroom overlooking the land below the hovering structure, she could barely tell she was technically in the basement of building. The room had been used several times in the past for home economics, art and magic classes before the school had the funds to upgrade and give those classes their own private rooms; meaning the furniture necessary for all it had been used for had been left around the massive room. With a full stove cook top, oven, refrigerator and etc available as well as prop beds from the drama department, she honestly felt she was living it up far better than she would be had she stayed with a host family. The only down side was that she had to use the gym's showers and bathrooms on the upper floor when necessary. It wasn't all bad--she did get first pick of the shower room lockers to store her items in after all. After contacting her parents who remained back in China, it wasn't difficult to convince them to send money to decorate, which she still needed to do. Today, as she locked her makeshift apartment behind her with her large luggage bags mostly unpacked, she was dressed in her usual outfit with silver jewelry adorning her chest. She turned to find Mr. Adam, the Magic teacher, waiting for her. With a nod from both their parts, he led the way up to the gym where several students from buses that had pulled in before the current crew's. She parted ways with the teacher and settled in at the back of the crowd. She was eager to meet others, but found herself at a loss for words. Maybe it was that everyone spoke fluent English around her that intimidated Xiu, maybe it was just that she was a stranger despite her age. Regardless, she backed away from the crowd and settled in instead against the back wall near the door with her arms folded behind her and her head down. She set herself apart from the others... for the time being, at least. Maybe she'd have the courage to approach someone later.</s> <|message|>Zaheer Aries @yukisaa Listening to the explanation about what his metal could handle, Zaheer nodded but some of the information that was given to him sort of went through one ear and out the other but what he did make out of it was that his metal could handle certain guns but very powerful weapons of death...he would not come out unscathed. Now, when explaining the damage he can cause with his power, a huge grin appeared on Zaheer's face as it flashed his fangs he naturally had. Oh maaaan...I wish I coulda been there to see that. Ah! That means I can see it soon since we get to test our power here!! No...actually I would like to see you fight someone! No...how about... before he could get out all he could say, Zaheer noticed a familiar face. The girl...no, one of the twins he saw on the bus. She came up while he and Dimitri was having a conversation but really didn't mind because this just meant that, Zaheer had another person he could ask about their abilities. When the girl came up, she seemed to already know Dimitri but then brought her eyes upon Zaheer, asking who he was. She was quite pretty to him as he hesitated to take in her scent before speaking I'm Zaheer....aka, Wildside! You...you're that double girl from the bus. Who are you? he said with a fang baring smile on his face Do you have cool powers too like Metal man? he asked, ignoring the announcement about the class and year gathering arrangement.</s> <|message|>Gretchen Anima Gretchen smiled politely as she listened to the speech, and then headed to Gym 3. Looking around, she sees a few different people, but none she recognised fully. She wasn't really looking hard enough, anyways. Sitting down on the floor, she pulls out her notebook and begins sketching an idea for a bodysuit for flame powers.</s> <|message|>Dimitri Santos Dimitri nodded in greeting to Eve and Ava as they approached him and Zaheer, however he was a bit too preoccupied listening to Zaheer to verbally respond. He tried to multitask between paying attention to both his newfound friend and the announcments at once, not really seeming distressed until Zaheer mentioned his desire to see Dimitri in combat. For just a sliver of a moment Dimitri's smile became strained as he fought the desire to frown. He was never really one for combat, in fact, he'd come to learn how to use his powers for anything other than punching people in the face in the name of justice. As people where being guided to their assigned areas, Dimitri stood and began to move with the second year crowd towards gym 2. He would have offered a farewell to Wildside and the twins, however as both parties were currently engaged in conversation he refrained from doing so out of politeness. At any rate, if any of them happened to be second years, they'd surely find him rather quickly, especially Zaheer, if his location of Dimitri earlier was anything to go by.</s> <|message|>Prince Ptolemy of Atlantis The fins lining the top of Ptolemy's head wiggled as he entered Gym 3, glancing around at the other 3rd Years. Familiar faces. He even spotted the Magic Studies club, or the MSc, among their number. He was only really friends with the new president, and the others viewed him more as a source of esoteric knowledge, the Atlantean's having a far better grasp of the more outlandish and odd magic's than the Land-bound. Part of his nomination for Vice-Presidency at the end of Year 1, and now it was time to start thinking up a replacement. Golem was the first to come to mind. The boy had a way with kabbalah, but he would wait and see what the 1st Years could bring to the table. He wiggled his toes in his sandals, unsure of what to do. It was the arrival of Mr. Adam and another student which saved him from his uncertainty. He observed her body language for a moment, horizontal and vertical eyelids coming to squint. She gave off a familiar impression, and one he had become very good at giving off himself. Either she wanted to be left alone, or she did not know where to really begin. His expression remained flat, but his gills fluttered in consideration. With a shrug of his shoulders, he moved over to join the other student against the wall to her side, casting her a stiff nod as a silent greeting. Best not to push it for now.</s> <|message|>Eve Ashkii (On the Left) Eve looked at the smiling with a fang. "I'm Eve... aka Poison Ivy, but most people call me Ivy and this is my sister Ava... aka AI, she doesn't like to talk much." said Eve, giggling to herself. hearing the announcement about the going to the 3rd gym for year 3, she pulled her sister by the neck again, and started to walk slowly away before yelling out and waving to the other two. "you'll have to wait and see" i said, walking away with my sister behind me. both the twins got to the 3rd gym, when Ai decided to get away from her sister and hangout with her own friends, whom she spotted around the wall. @King Tai@Melodia Alluna ---- "come sit down in this corner, well start the testing in 5 minutes to see which class everyone would be place in" said Ms. Chantal for the 3rd year students. ---- "come sit down in this corner, well start the testing in 5 minutes to see which class everyone would be place in" said Miss. Hefty for the 2nd year students. ---- "come sit down in this corner, well start the testing in 5 minutes to see which class everyone would be place in" said Mr. Smith for the 1st year students.</s> <|message|>Jack darkhart Jack, with his hood over his head made his way to the first gym for "power placement"without knowing what it was, he hoped that he didn't have to show the extent of his power, primarily because searching for a limit for ink is like trying to go to the edge of the universe,it is simply fruitless.</s> <|message|>Erin Maxima Erin gave a small Salute to the others as she walked into gym two and sat in the corner for the power placement to begin, "I wonder if I should go all out this time?" She asked herself as she busied herself with her drawing pad, sketching out a point of view from the end of a tank barrel. .</s> <|message|>Zaheer Aries While having his conversation, Zaheer heard Dimitri leaving while keeping his attention on Eve. When introducing herself and her sister, his smile continued to shine looking at these girls. cool cool...like the names!! he said. Yeah,they were pretty and since they were leaving for class, he just continued to stare at the girls as Eve..or should he say Ivy was giving him a tease that he would have to check out her and her sister's abilities later. He was going to be sure to catch that when the time came. Met a new friend today and a pretty girl. Seems like today is starting off on the right foot. As everyone was leaving, Zaheer followed Dimitri's scent to the gym he headed to. Not considering that he may end up in the wrong one but if he gets it wrong, he'd simply find the one he's suppose to be in. @MonsieurShade</s> <|message|>Xiu Yong Xiu looked to the new student and nodded back, blushing a little. He was a bit strange looking, but overall not hard to look at. She lifted her head to listen to the speakers come on and direct everyone to move to designated corners, which she complied in doing. Really, she was looking forward to seeing all the new students abilities.</s> <|message|>Dimitri Santos Dimitri complied with Ms.Hefty's directions and stood in the corner, visibly shaking with excitement as he awaited the results for this year. During the previous year Dimitri had managed to be assigned as a part of the hero classes, albeit just barely due to him just learning to use his abilities. This year would be different; He'd been practicing all summer, this time around he wasn't just going to squeak by. Dimitri's excitement began to manifest itself through his powers, as evident by the metal that began to creep up from his color bone all the way to his cheeks. He hardly noticed, being far too concerned with trying to take everything in at once.</s> <|message|>Zaheer Aries After following Dimitri's scent to the gym that the 2nd years were meeting, Zaheer looked around confused and checked out the competition. He was about to ask what was going on before being directed to get next to the wall. With his fang shining smile, Zaheer turned to walk to the wall Hey when can I show my powers!? he yelled out.</s> <|message|>Eve Ashkii (On the Left) ---- "Eve Ashkii, Ava Ashkii, Vincent McLain, Gretchen Anima, Prince Ptolemy of Atlantis, Xiu Yong, Vannessa and Russel, come to the stage and show me your powers please" said Ms. Chantal for the 3rd year students. ---- "Dimitri Santos, Zaheer Aries and Erin Maxima, come to the stage and show me your powers please" said Miss. Hefty for the 2nd year students. ---- "Jack darkhart, your up first kid, come to the stage and show me your powers" said Mr. Smith for the 1st year students. Tai@Dancing Cloud@Blizz@Saarebas@MonsieurShade@The ghost in black@Melodia Alluna@Blizz@Player 2@ReaptheMusic@BurningCold</s> <|message|>Zaheer Aries As soon as Miss Hefty called for him to come forth with the others, Zaheer did not hesitate as he quickly dashed front and center in the gym. With a grin, he was about just show off any and everything he had but he needed to be careful not to do anything that could potentially hurt someone. Guys I need some room... he said ready to demonstrate what he could do. To get things started, Zaheer closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them as a ghostly image of a toad flashed over him and disappeared a moment later. With that, Zaheer positioned his body like a toad and jumped half way across the gym. Landing, he looked around and noticing another student who was not paying attention, Zaheer let loose a long lashing tongue that grabbed a girl by her ankle and flung her towards him, catching her. From the shock and scream she gave, Zaheer set her back down and closed his eyes again as a ghostly image of a lion appeared above his head and disappeared. Zaheer's eyes were gold like a lion's and his claws and fangs grew, letting out a roar of a lion as he noticed a punching back and leaped over like a lion, swatting at it, ripping it open from the power he unleashed. He looked upon the crowd of students and thought about what other ability he could show next. He then called forth the abilities of a spider monkey as the ghostly image of it came up next and disappeared. Zaheer's movements were like that of a monkey as he ran over to the rope and climbed it with us, holding on with one hand and flipped upside down. He continued on up to the rafters and swung from one beam to the next until he headed back to the ropes and climbed down just as easy as he did climbing up. That's when a ghostly image of a Ram showed. Zaheer was so excited that he was about to overdo it trying to show off all the animal abilities he had but it was certain that he showed enough to be evaluated.</s>
<|message|>Russel Russel sidled up onto the stage. Russel tapped the side of his respirator a few times. At last, Russel said in a heavily modulated and somewhat otherworldly voice, "May I?"</s>
<|description|>Friedrich Karl Alexander Freiherr von Lochau Gender Male Age 30 Birth Place North-western Austria Role/Occupation Diplomat, author, retired military official and Habsburg representative in the Hollow Earth. Appearance Freiherr von Lochau stands at 180cm with the build of an average fit 30 year old. He has a few scars around his body and a chromium-colored clockwork prosthetic where his right leg should be. His hair is slightly curly and light brown. Strong eyebrows and puncturing blue eyes dominate the top of his face and the noble nose comes with a fabulous moustache underneath it. Equipment/Inventory • Can often be seen wearing his formal attire, a tailcoat always kept in pristine condition a black-yellow striped tie. • Old military dress uniform still travels with him for more notable events, and for the occasional nostalgia. • Officer's sword • Pocket watch, a precious family heirloom. • Four-barreled duck's foot pistol in case things get steamy. • Money. Lots of money. State money, family money. Lots of it. • A full bookshelf. • Portrait of Virgin Mary to be kept in a pocket at all times. • Portrait of Franz Josef I to be kept in a pocket at all times. Strengths • Highly talented in speaking, writing and generally expressing himself. • Academic knowledge on history, cultures and philosophy. He loves reading a book or two. • Self-proclaimed strategic mastermind, with front-line experience from multiple wars and uprisings. • Heavenly support - God will preserve Austria and her loyal subjects. Weaknesses • Fanatic patriotism - While obviously seen as a virtue by himself and his countrymen, it can crowd his judgement and lead to embarrassment. • Prone to alcoholism. • Awkwardly working robot leg that slows down his walking speed and acts as an easy target of mockery for the more technologically advanced British and Americans. Personality • Cynical, ever since losing a limb and the Austro-Sardinian war. And full of revenge, you bet. • Perfectionist. • Arrogant, racist and superstitious - Hates the French and all kinds of Slavs. Generally dislikes anything that doesn't understand German. • Loves those Sacher cakes and Wienerschnitzels. • Devout Roman-Catholic - Did I mention how God will preserve Austria and her loyal subjects? I don't want to go into too much detail about my character's behavior, because I feel like that'll just end up limiting the way I can write about him. We'll see how he plays out once we get to the story itself, alright? Background Born as the youngest son to an age-old Bavarian noble family in God's year 1831, Friedrich von Lochau lived the early years of his life in a bubble of conservatism and aristocracy. He absolutely loves the Kaiser, loathes the inferior minorities of the Empire and believes that Austria deserves her place as the great power in Europe and the world. And the underworld. He moved to Vienna when he was fifteen and volunteered to join the Imperial and Royal Army in 1846, after having completed his university studies. During the first years his military career von Lochau vigorously fought to suppress several uprisings in Poland. In his civilian life von Lochau dabbled in painting, political theory and philosophy, as well as the noble sport of hunting in order to maintain his fitness and shooting skills. He married Cornelia von Weißdorf, an eccentric, strong and independent Prussian lady. The couple didn't have any children, because who needs children? Instead our man wrote and published a series of books. Von Lochau lost his right leg during the final battles of the Austro-Sardinian war of 1859, and was given one of the first prototypes of a fully mechanic prosthetic leg the nation's top engineers had been working on at the time as a gift of gratitude for his exemplary service, by Franz Josef I himself. This naturally caused the press to be widely interested of the former officer and gave him a much needed popularity boost to later start his political career. Austria's own man of steel? By God's mercy, yes. Unfortunately, Austrian engineers were in fact way behind countries like Britain and the United States in this field of prosthetics and the leg soon proved to be rather painful to wear and difficult to maintain. But hey, you don't refuse a gift from the Kaiser! A series of strategic failures that came after this ended Lochau's glorious career on the front lines, the life he still longs to. It's one of the reasons he's still so bitter and willing to prove himself. But alas, that's not the end of it. He moved from military to foreign politics and became Austria's diplomat - First to England in 1860, but after a small scandal involving the English press he was transferred from Europe to the Aeraport (following the previous envoy's untimely death upon choking on a Wienerschnitzel). This time he's not only doing diplomatic tasks - This time he's determined to prove himself again by bringing the Kaiser's light and guidance to Hell itself. The year is now 1861 and the Freiherr has only just arrived to his new post. His wife is to take care of family property in Vienna and is therefore not with him. Just wait and see, the double-headed eagle will soon be the biggest of the big ass monsters in Agartha.</s> <|message|>Essential NPCs --- --- An original role play about steampunk, the hollow earth, and lots of big ass monsters ___ Week 0: The Beginning.</s> <|message|>Essential NPCs --- Current Week Week 0: 11 th to 17 th March, 1861 Notice Politics: Due to the new election of Agartha's Independent's chairman, there will be no Round Tables this week. | Day | Weather Forecast | | --- | --- | | Monday | Sunny | | Tuesday | Cloudy | | Wednesday | Minor Rain | | Thursday | Sunny | | Friday | Killer Sandstorm | | Saturday | Killer Sandstorm | | Sunday | Rainy |</s>
<|message|>Friedrich Karl Alexander Freiherr von Lochau Date: March 11th, 1861 Time: Noon Location: Austrian Embassy, Arcastein Outside the Austrian Embassy Arcastein, City of Aeraport --- Ah, the Aeraport. The journey here had felt long and irksome - Mostly due to the snobby, foul-smelling Frenchmen the diplomat had had the honor to travel with. He couldn't understand why French people were permitted in first class anyways, they knew nothing of etiquette. Unlike his countrymen. Untasteful. If there was a good side to this, it was the fact that he wouldn't have to travel with a blimp again any time soon. Either way, this place was like something from another world - Of course technically it was. Or could it be he'd descended to Hell itself? Von Lochau's first impression of the city of Aeraport was how lively and organic it felt, like an anthill, but with people. So... A peoplehill. He'd seen the post cards and the travel guides but nothing on paper could really portray the beauty of this Victorian architecture, this level of detail. At least something good had once come out of Britain. He walked through a crowded park, thinking to himself how perfectly a statue of the Kaiser would fit on the center of it. Or a statue of himself. Or in the best scenario, statues of both. Would it ever happen? Probably not. He was, of course, in the upper area of the city, or Arcastein. The way it had been organized between three layers thoroughly pleased the Austrian - The last thing he wanted to do was having to mingle with disgusting foreign peasantry in his free time. He hadn't gotten his hands on an in-depth map of this place yet, which was of course a mistake on the Empire's foreign ministry's part. He wondered if somewhere in there was a quarter inhabited solely by German-speaking immigrants. There had to be one. He'd go look for it the moment he'd find an ounce of free time, even if it meant going down to the lower levels. Von Lochau stepped in the embassy building, politely greeting everyone in his native language and handing over his suitcase to the first person he came across. An older man waved him to the great staircase and introduced himself as Herr August von Galishoff. Service staff, ugh. His clockwork leg made a loud clank as he strolled through his new office. Lots of warm colors, wood and cloth. He liked the place, despite it feeling a tad outdated and shabby for his taste. "Hire interior designer to do touch-ups", he wrote to the notebook he'd picked from one of the tables. It was here that he'd would be the face of the Empire, or the third head of the double-headed eagle as he liked to think, and the milieu would have to fit this image. More black and yellow, more statues, more national symbols, definitely. A new set of furniture, preferably with more decoration, bling and price. And would somebody please hang his family crest on the wall? Speaking of the wall, the previous ambassador's painting still hung proudly on it. What a fat and unpleasant-looking man, von Lochau though. No matter he'd ended up choking on a piece of his own food. He'd have to get someone working on a portrait of his own to replace this atrocity as soon as possible. He decided to allow some poor soul from Agartha the chance to try their hands this honorable commission, for he'd gladly support a local artist. Someone would have to ask around about this though, probably that fool Galishoff. Von Lochau clapped his hands to summon the man.</s>
<|description|>Lina Inverse "Where monsters rampage, I'm there to take them down. Where treasure glitters, I'm there to claim it. Where and enemy rises to face me, victory WILL BE MINE!" Personality: A bit self absorbed and greedy, but she sticks by her friends. Sometimes she'll attack people when she gets mad at them, but won't kill them just for annoying her. Bio: She's had quite an eventful life. Even thought she grew up fairly normally as the daughter of a merchant, learning the trade, she and her sister learned Sorcery, and she proved to be a prodigy. She sat out on her own at 14, making a name for herself as a bandit killer and Sorceress, and eventually met several people and formed a team. With her group of friends, she's fought one of the seven pieces of the dark lord Shabradigdo, hidden within the eyes of a blind priest. After defeating it, they searched for the Claire Bible, a source of infinite knowledge, in Lina's case to find the knowledge she needed to defeat high-level monsters. They eventually found it with the help of a Monster named Xellos and a golden Dragon, and was able to gain the information to perfect her Ragna Blade. She used this knowledge to fight two powerful monsters, Gaav and Hellmaster Phibrizzo, though neither of them died from this blade. Gaav was killed by Phibrizzo, and he, in turn, was killed by the Lord of Nightmares when Lina was possessed by it after casting the Giga Slave. The barrier which had sealed her people in collapsed upon their death and she on a boat for the outer lands when Lucien grabbed her. Spells/powers: No chant required spells: She's used them enough that she no longer needs to chant the spell for them unless unable to concentrate or seriously injured. * Lighting: A glowing ball of light held within the palm of her hand. "Light which burns beyond crimson flame, let thy power gather in my hand! LIGHTING!" * Recovery: A minor healing spell that accelerates a target's natural regeneration. Energy comes from the one being healed, so it may exhaust or kill them. "Oh, blessed and humble hand of God, life and breath of Mother Earth, come before me and show your great compassion and deliver us: RECOVERY!" * Levitation: A flying spell that lets you fly as fast as a person runs. * Elmekia Lance: A beam of light that only effects beings of the astral plane like demons and ghosts. Fairly weak. * Frost arrow: An arrow made of frost, that freezes where ever it strikes. * Flare arrow: An arrow made of fire, that can bounce off of solid surfaces and burns the target. * Fire ball: A ball of fire that explodes on impact. "Oh, source of all power, light which burns beyond crimson, let thy power gather in my hand. Fireball!" * Defensive barrier: Blocks incoming damage, but drains her as much as casting a spell that damaging would. * Ray Wing: Fast flight, but burns a lot of energy, so it tires her quickly. Chant required: * Bram Gush: The spell creates an arrow of wind, which is shot at a target and bursts upon contact (or at the caster's choosing), shredding the target to pieces. An extremely lethal spell which has the power to blow a hole through a brick wall. "Wind which blows across eternity, gather in my hands and become my strength! BRAM GUSH!" * Dragon Slave: An explosion of energy which was taken from the most powerful of the beings that drove the gods from the world, the dark lord Shabranigdo. Large enough to destroy a city. Originally called the "Dragon slayer". "Darkness beyond Twilight, Crimson beyond blood that flows, Buried in the flow of time, I pledge myself to conquer All the foes who stand Before the mighty gift bestowed in my unworthy hand. Let the foes that stand before me be destroyed by the power you and I possess! DRAGON SLAVE!" * Giga Slave: Draws on the power of the Lord of Nightmares, the primordial being of chaos that created the monster race. If she loses control it could destroy all life on a world, or even the world itself. Successful casting can create an attack of black energy that destroys any being it hits, or it may allow the Lord of Nightmares to possess her body. Completely drains the user of magical energy. "Darkness beyond blackest pitch Deeper than the deepest night Lord as vast as the largest ocean Colder than the coldest ice King of Darkness who shines like gold upon the Sea of Chaos I call upon thee and swear myself to thee. I stand ready to bear the strength you give me. Let the fools who stand before me be destroyed By the power you and I possess! GIGA SLAVE!" * Ragna Blade: Concentrated energy from the Lord of Nightmares, in the shape of a twohanded sword. It is said to be able to cut through anything, but can be resisted by powerful enemies and places a great strain on the user. "Fragment of the Lord of Nightmares, Release thy heavenly retribution Blade of cold, black nothingness Become my power, become my body Together, let us walk the path of destruction And smash even the souls of the Gods RAGNA BLADE!!" Equipment: Demon's blood Talismans A set of jewelry, two bracelets, a necklace and a belt buckle, that tap into the power of the lords of the four planes. When activated, boosts the maximum strength of their spell by 4 to 5 times. "Lords of the Darkness and all Four Worlds, Following thy bonds of fate; Merge all thy power, Grant unto me greater power!" Also a short sword and various magical ingredients hidden inside her cape.</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse Lina Inverse stood on a barren plane, having been teleported there by some deity or monster that wanted people to fight for its amusement. Honestly, she wasn't really paying attention, but she did catch that the more enemies she "killed" the more favor she would win, which could be traded for objects from the being that brought her here. Best of all, no one actually died, because they would be made whole by the being no matter what happened to them. She eagerly awaited her first opponent.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger Rider's question of what to do now was to be answered quite quickly, as he was transported to this arena. He scanned the crowd, and his opponent. He let out a sigh of sorrow and readied his Pistol. He didn't want another helpless person to die, but he was going to have to. He walked towards the middle of the arena, blank faced as ever, staring directly at this female, waiting for her to make the first move. His hand was on his sword, pistol put back into it's holster.</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse "So I see they got you too." Lina said, looking at the man that was much taller than her. "Lina Inverse," she said, putting out her hand so he could shake it. "I get that you don't want to be here, but from what they told me when they abducted me, we won't die if we are killed. Whatever god or monster grabbed us will bring us back, and we'll be rewarded for fighting for its entertainment. So we may as well have fun and try and get rich."</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger Rider grunted agreeable, and stepped back. He clenched the handle of the sheathed sword tighter, now that no one is getting hurt, he could go full force. He waited for an attack, to learn a pattern, anything that could help him. He stayed back, waiting and prepared, who was going to take the first move, the first step?</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse Lina looked her opponent over, sizing him up. Armor, or maybe he was part golem. Both a sword and a gun, which meant that he was probably good with both. She was decent enough with a sword, but he would have a serious reach advantage. If she could buy some distance, though, she could fight him at range where her defensive barrier could block his bullets. Hopefully. She put one hand behind her back and pulled back the one she hand offered as a handshake. "In that case", she said, charging a light spell in her hidden hand, "may the best one win." She stuck her now revealed hand in front of his face and yelled "lighting", hopefully blinding him long enough to get away. She didn't bother checking, however, as she yelled "levitation" and began flying straight up.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger With this immediate aggression seen before, he dodged out of the way, and saw her flying in the air. He fired of 5 bullets in rapid succession, each one having a slight deviation, and one aimed right on target. He started to charge a charged swipe, and analyzed the caster Most of her quick attacks wouldn't be so powerful, but the ones that took a while, he definitely wanted to stop. His parrying wouldn't be to useful as a ranged caster wouldn't be up close much, but he could close the gap and put pressure on her, crack her defenses slowly and get her.</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse Lina held up her hand a created a defensive barrier. With no time to prepare it, though, it was too weak to block them all. The four off-target rounds ricocheted off, but the one on target made it through, barely missing her outstretched hand and shattering the decorative shoulder-guard on her left side. She knew she wouldn't have time to cast anything she had to chant for, nor could she spare the concentration for anything very powerful, including a barrier that was impervious to his attacks, while flying. "Ray wing!" she shouted, accelerating away from the man. Hopefully she could get enough distance to charge something bigger.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger Rider glanced, and smirked slightly. He hit. As she started to dash away, he used the slash he had charged, and immediately closed the gap that was there. Face to face now, he slashes at the female a few times, lands, and shoots once at her. Now on the ground, he is charging a dash, waiting for any devastating attacks to come. He was still a little dazed from the lighting, but nothing he couldn't handle. He was doing as he planned, slowly chipping away at the girl.</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse Lina fell from the air, multiple slashes and a bullet wound causing her to bleed out. She knew she had to buy time for a recovery spell if she was going to survive this, so she threw up a barrier. Further attacks and blood loss were sapping her strength too quickly. She needed to drive him away quickly. Making sure to keep the barrier up, she sighed. 'Well, at least I'm immune to my own spells.' she thought as she launched a fireball at the man, the most powerful spell she thought she could use in time.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger Rider was lucky. He got in a few moves, and got out. This might be quicker than he thought. She was backing off quickly, probably to fix her wounds. She hurls a fireball his way, but he dodges easily using his charged dodge. Now to think. She had a barrier up, and he can't get in. At least she was on the ground now. Rider sprinted over to her location, firing from afar, and then going ham on the shield. It had to let up at some point.</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse She managed to keep the barrier up for another ten seconds, but the constant attempts to break through it drained her too much. "Damn it." she said with half closed eyes, then the barrier fell as she lost consciousness due to blood loss.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger Rider had one, just one last blow. He dashed forwards, jumped, flipped, and landed, plunging the sword into the girl. She would be back to normal soon, but for now, he had won. Rider sheathed his sword and holstered his pistol. The job had been done, and with such a performance, money was raining onto him from the stands. He stood there, staring at the girl, who's body lie there, limp. You could see the path that he took through the arena, and twists, turns, and straightaways of black stain the arena floor.</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse Lina's body faded away and, a few seconds later, she appeared fully healed, equipment restored, in the private box of the one that brought her here. "So," she said, "I hope I entertained you. Maybe enough for me to learn your name, at least?" "Not really." said a deep male voice which appeared to be a humanoid shadow. "You did no damage. Perhaps in a later round you will find an enemy that you are able to wound or even defeat. I won't send anyone home until they entertain me by winning at least three times." He stood up and dissolved, appearing in front of Rider. "So, Rider, you have won your first battle and were barely even fazed by your opponent's attacks. Is there anything you would ask of me before the next round? Remember, the more wins you have, the larger your reward." The stands cheered, vague figures standing and applauding. They were also shrouded in darkness which could not be seen through.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger Rider nodded his head, and put his hand on his pistol. He wanted, no needed, more action. The Jailer is the key, kill him and you will be free</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse "Very well," said the smokey figure, teleporting itself back to it's stadium box where Lina was sitting. An orange skinned woman appeared beside Rider where the figure had just stood. "Let the fight continue." The statement echoed through the stands and the crowd cheered once more. "Where am I?" asked Starfire of the cyborg standing beside her. "Did you bring me here?" She put up her hands to defend herself.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger Rider looked at the stadium box, and nodded his head towards him. He looked at this strange, scantily clad woman right next to him. He shook his head at the question. He had done none the sort. She would soon learn her purpose here. Rider walked away from his location, and turned to face the girl, pistol in hand. He was ready, and he was going to win. He was going to be free soon enough.</s> <|message|>Lina Inverse "Wait!" Starfire said, "Why would you wish to shoot me? I mean you no harm." She dropped guard and started walking towards him.</s> <|message|>Rider or just The Stranger He shook his head, disappointing. She knew not of what was to come. Such a naive girl. He fired 3 shots in quick succession, all on target, and started to run towards her. Maybe this would be easier than he thought</s>
<|message|>Lina Inverse Three bolts of light hit her nose and she grabbed her face instinctively. "Why did you attack me?" she asked readying herself for a fight. "I do not wish to fight you but if you insist on attacking me you will lose." With that she ran at him as well at approximately his own speed, preparing to punch him in the face as she met him. She didn't want to kill him, but he had attacked her first and would have to be stopped.</s>
<|description|>"Name's Elarin. That's it, we don't do family names where I'm from. Friends used to call me 'flyboy' cause I flew the ship, so I guess you can call me that." Appearance: "What, can't you just look at me and take some notes? No? Alright fine. Reptilian, green scales, spikes trailing from the top of the head down to the end of the tail. Usual outfit of a hooded long-sleeve shirt, pants with a hole for the tail, no shoes. That good enough for ya?" Species Name & Description: "Last I heard the going name for us was 'Reptiloids.' There's a bunch of us out here, enough to have several different factions. Not sure most of us came from the same planet originally, actually. Favourite Side Dish: "I..uhh..whaddaya call the little yellow sweet bits? Starts with a C...cake? No...car? No, that ain't it...Corn! Yeah, corn!" Useful Skills & Abilities: "I'm a pretty decent pilot. Used to run cargo for a bigger shipping company, before they got bought out. Had to sell my ship recently to get some cash flowing again, but my skills still hold up." Membership Number: "%XYN)p(Xf@vlv)fL. Yes, I know there's no actual numbers in it. Don't ask me, I just read it off the back o' this badge. An Inspirational Quote That Sums Up The Character's Personality: "A wise, long-dead human once said 'Life is like a sewer… what you get out of it depends on what you put into it.' I gotta say that you humans sure know how to make a guy laugh." History: "Oh, you want my story? My WHOLE story? Well sit back, and get comfortable, cause its gonna be a long one..."</s> <|message|>Vanessa Kiyvana Joining a crew! Going on adventures! Being in confined spaces! Spaaaaaace! These things were fun. Vanessa enjoyed things that were fun. Though certainly her fun could be considered different from other versions of fun. Eating here was pretty decent, though the most fun was had when the fights broke out. Vanessa was usually found not far away with a bucket of popcorn coated eagerly with her unique sauce. Vanessa had been such a regular at Hendersons's Ribs that she had her own sauce to suit her particular tastes. The interesting thing about Vanessa was that she could frequently be found eating food, or drinking tea. This was all well and good for humans, but Vanessa wasn't quite a human. Vanessa, being a vampire, required blood for substance. Drinking blood was like taking nutrient supplements. It provided her with quite literally everything she needed in a day in a small, convenient package. Unfortunately for everyone, Vanessa wasn't at the table. Her rifle was missing too, and a the only evidence that Vanessa had been there in the first place being a small napkin with a note scribbled upon it in what was clearly not an intentional ink that stated the prompt return of the writer. Vanessa had arrived earlier, and had actually eaten before everyone, since the consumption of something steeped with her unique sauce was frequently considered off putting to those not accustomed to the wet and coppery smell of blood, much less the consumption of it. Vanessa gently hummed to herself as she held her hands beneath the cool, fast flowing water. Checking over them with a keen eye Vanessa held them under a bit longer before shutting the water off and pulling paper towels, one of the many inventions to stand the test of time, to dry her hands. Looking into the mirror Vanessa adjusted her glasses so that they framed her eyes neatly and rubbed her hair down into place, holding her hands aloft only for it to spring back out sporadically after a few moments. Adjusting her tie, Vanessa pulled her gloves back on and gave them a few tugs to ensure that they were taut across her hands. Picking up her rifle from the corner, Vanessa looked one last time to the mirror and gave herself a brief smile, her fangs aligned perfectly with the rest of her teeth. Nodding at her appearance Vanessa switched off the light and stepped out of the ladies room. With a surprisingly abundant amount of space open to her, Vanessa gave her rifle a rapid twirl as she walked back towards the booth. It spun as if hovering above her left hand, before a quick swing of the arm saw it spinning just as fast above her right. In a display of her flexibility Vanessa, having planted her left foot upon the floor, raised her right foot behind her and leaned forward, using the momentum of her lean to completely raise her right foot over her head, before completing her acrobatic display by planting her right foot upon the ground in the exact spot where it would have been had Vanessa remained walking normally. To top off this display, Vanessa kept her rifle spinning all the while. Deciding to be truly daring, Vanessa vanished with a puff of smoke when her foot hit the ground with her next step. A swift and slight breeze was felt before Vanessa reappeared where she had previously been sitting within the booth. This had been alone, right where the napkin-note Vanessa had left had indicated she had been sitting. Vanessa's rifle sat comfortably within the crook of her arm. It lay there gently, like a date assured they weren't on the menu at a fine dinner. Vanessa gave a quick once-over to anyone currently present at the table, and gave a gentle close-lipped smile to the lot of them. Vanessa rested with her fingers woven together and legs crossed, and a polite greeting spilled from her mouth shortly after her appearance. "Guten Tag! How are vee today companions?" Vanessa did indeed notice that Fiddlesticks was drooling a bit at the thought of his food, but she was simply too polite to mention it at this time. Vanessa's suit held her body well, and gave her an almost male appearance, though the sound of her voice and the length of her hair gave away her status as a female pretty easily, even though her slender appearance didn't lend itself to overt femininity. Vanessa didn't mind the look, though. It allowed her to be extensively flexible, which was something that Vanessa frequently took advantage of, like her acrobatics earlier. All in all, Vanessa was quite the interesting lady, and she was likely going to go upon an interesting trip. with an interesting crew and have an interesting time along the way. It was always pleasant when things were interesting, as mundane and routine quickly drew out the devious roots of boredom and stagnation.</s> <|message|>Nanobot Controller "Toony" AI Mmm... Adventures in space! It sounded like a fun time, especially with this crew. Toony was relatively new, having only met most of them the day before. Something about a giant spider and a swarm of bees was interesting when compared to the relatively humanoids next to them. Toony was the only robot of the crew, but at least she had learned to cooperate with the organics relatively well as to not be treated like some other robots shes seen. An example came to the table the crew was sitting at was the water bot. She figured that the poor thing probably didn't do much else other than wait tables. But if he wanted to do anything else, it was his choice, not hers. Besides, it was time for food! "Oh, you can get me one of everything!" Toony replied at the robot waiter, the waiter a bit puzzled as to why a robot would need to eat organic food but made note of her order all the same. Being made of nanobots, she could do whatever she wanted with the food she ate, although it was mostly made into either energy, replacing spent nanobots, or probably ship parts. She figured that she'd probably be the one to repair the ship, thats usually what people had her do in the past anyway, even if she really didn't want to besides making the parts. She gave the indication of a wide smile to the rest of the group at her order, noting that fiddlesticks was drooling over the idea of his order. She wasn't the only one to notice this, as Vanessa who came out of nowhere looked at him too. "Hello Vanessa, I'm good. Dunno about everyone else." Toony herself wasn't too familiar with the crew who had been around each other a bit more. It was clear in the fact that the other organics didn't run for the hills when they saw the giant spider lady. From what she had seen of most organics, they tended to be terrified of spiders.</s> <|message|>Swarm Species 5207B The Bees/The Will/Draksal the Devourer(nobody calls them this, not even The Bees) At the table with the others were 25 small humanoids with bee wings and antennae. 2 where wearing miniature captains hats who were attempting to look as dignified as possible, 3 where dressed in with a shirt and tie and where there to do accounting for when they paid as well as to remember the new recruit's CVs. The remaining 20 were there to make up the numbers so that they actually had a presence of a swarm rather than a few small individuals that could be ignored and where dressed in the standard red jacket of The Bees. The numbers were also important so that they could activate automatic doors or make rope teams to pull open manual ones and other size reliant tasks. The Bees were either sitting on the chair, on the table or hovering between those two groups, all but the captains buzzing excitedly at being brought along. The Will was effectively popping in and out of the group, the present bee's antennae occasionally lighting up as it made sure they and the solos of the crew were OK before going back to managing the bulk takeout order operation currently being undertaken by the rest of the swarm. There would have been a mass riot if only the 25 at the table where to get those succulent ribs. As it was the majority of the bees were currently engaged in a mass transport operation from the joints drive through to the ship, which was parked some way off as Elarin(very sensibly) wouldn't let The Bees drive, using a system of ropes, pallets and those trolley things you get at airports. Imaging the massive limestone blocks being dragged to build the pyramids except instead of slaves it's tiny bee people, instead of limestone its delicious ribs, instead of dragging it along the ground they had to contend with the uncontrollable wonky wheels on the trolleys, instead of slave drivers with whips there were angry drivers who couldn't use the drive through because of the operation shouting at them and finally that they were building a giant banquet instead of a tomb. All of this was watched in horrified fascination by the acne ridden teenagers manning the drive through. Currently things were going smoothly and casualty rates were at an acceptable level, they all knew the party they were going to throw was going to be worth it. The Mind, having gotten the external operation into a relatively self sustaining state after much prodding and macro-management of The Bees, finally settled into the 25 just in time to watch Vanessa's theatrics. The Bees gave her a round of applause while The Mind added 'Show off' to their data on her after which The bees got down to arguing about what to order. "Everything is going well so far miss Kiyvana." The Bees then inform the waiter that they want Ribs coated with honey, fries with honey on the side, tomatoes, an entire lettuce, lemon sorbet, Jub Jub juice, coconuts, grubs of a scarab beetle, more honey and... All these and more are shouted over each other in an incomprehensible mess before the mind drowns them out. "Ignore everything the Bees just said, they will have 3 child portions of ribs, a large basket of fries, a mixed salad, a plate of Venusian sour spheres and four bowls of honey." The Mind had spoken and given a relatively decent order, so The Bees stopped their uproar and got back to what they were doing which was a lot of low level chatter, looking over the Space Friends Monthly(mainly a the pictures) or in the case of the two captain's hat wearing Bees a rather amateurish game of chess.</s> <|message|>If I had a choice in the matter, my name would be Lord Captain Super Awesome Double Bacon Cheese Burger Ultra Warrior Magic Man of the Ultimate Eagle Force of Doom! But you can call me Fiddlesticks. That's what my older brother calls me. But if you value your life DO NOT ASK ME WHY I AM CALLED FIDDLESTICKS! CAPICE!? The space camp councillors told him he was perfect for the role. That Fiddlesticks would be the most valuable and respected member of the crew. They told him that he was meant for great things. That he was smart and ever so handsome. Well, they didn't say that second part but Fiddlesticks suspected that they were thinking it. If only they could see him then. Drooling uncontrollably like a space poodle. Fiddlesticks salivated so much that a stream of drool flowed it's way down his chin and onto the diner table. Only after hearing the quiet yet audible splash of saliva onto the table top did Fiddlesticks realise the error of his ways. Startled by this realisation he sat bolt upright in his seat and covered his mouth with both his hands. His huge grapefruit sized eyes have never been any bigger than they were at that moment. They darted left and right rapidly, at all the other members of the crew. He hoped against hope that the cute girl with the glasses didn't notice. Fiddlesticks made an audible gulp then dropped his hands to his sides. He let out a sigh of resignation. He thought that those guys would consider him a dork as well. But he had duty, a most honourable and sacred one! To help spread the word of Hendersons Ribs! For deliciousness! For friendship! For adventure! "Huzzah!" yelled Fiddlesticks. He found himself standing on his seat with his right fist pointed straight up into the air. He wore a massive smile that stretched from ear to ear. How the heck did that happen!? He didn't even remember standing up. Fiddlesticks quickly decided to play it cool and roll with it. He held his pose and his smile. He hoped that at least one other member would join in on his style of expressing jubilation.</s>
<|message|>"Name's Elarin. That's it, we don't do family names where I'm from. Friends used to call me 'flyboy' cause I flew the ship, so I guess you can call me that." After driving for the entire eight-hour flight to the Hederson's Ribs above Nurr-Slugg, Elarin was exhausted. Resting his head against the backrest of the booth, his claw-tipped fingers rapped against the laminated cover of the menu, as his bloodshot, glazed over eyes glanced slowly from item to item, his tongue occasionally darting out of his mouth to taste the air whenever different dishes were walked past their table by the server-robots. Eventually, a server approached the table the group was seated at, and Elarin sat up a bit as the bot spoke. "Welcome to Henderson's Ribs. I am Walter. What will it be?" Elarin emitted whatever the reptilian equivalent of a yawn was, before sluggishly tracing a claw along the menu, answering Walter the Waiter with a worn-out voice. "I'd like a...medium serving of ribs, a small bowl of corn, a small basket of...regular fries, and a coffee, doesn't matter what planet." With that, Elarin handed his menu over, and rested his head back against the backrest again, his head spines poking small holes in the leather upholstery. Closing his eyes, Elarin mumbled out something that sounded like "Wake me if you need me.", or maybe it was "Take these if you see peas." Unless he was woken up by someone priorly, Elarin would carefully sit back up once the food arrived, the hiss of air being let out of the leather backing as his spines were drawn from the puncture holes they had made.</s>
<|description|>Stella Herbalem Stella Herbalem Character Quote:"Beware the most beautiful flower, as it might be the most deadly." --- --- Character Summary Aliases:Flower Girl, Star, Stella-Bella Age: 12 Birthday: March 20th, 2008 Ethnicity: White Birth Place: Berkeley, California Godly Parent: Demeter Cabin Number: 4 How Many Years At Camp: 0 Gender: Female Occupation At Camp: N/A Languages: Ancient Greek, English, some Spanish --- --- Appearance Height: Currently 4'8" Weight: 85 Lbs Body Type: Skinny but healthy Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Red Skin Tone: Pale with freckles Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: One piercing in each ear lobe. Personal Style: Stella likes to keep her hair nice and long, and she usually has it loose, but she will braid it sometimes when she's working in the gardens. She tends to wear easy to wear clothing, jeans and zip up sweaters the most, casual clothing. She hasn't really found too much of a personal style yet, as she is a twelve year old girl, but she does like wearing more 'earth tones' or things in green that match her eyes. --- --- Psychology Cheerful* Spacey * Friendly * Sheltered * Optimistic *Impulsive Sexuality: Unknown, she's twelve and not sure yet Relationship Status: Single Personality: Stella is overall a very bubbly young lady that honestly has nothing but good and happy thoughts for the world. Part of this is because of her upbringing and her fathers influence on her. This has led to her being a bit sheltered about some things, like some of the issues of the world, as well as issues that might arise from being what she is. However, overall, she is a cheerful and spunky young girl with bright eyes and a happy smile. Fatal Flaw: Excessive curiosity: She is too curious about the world and sometimes it can get very distracting, as she will wander off, her head being in the clouds (according to her fathers.) Habits: Chewing on her nails, skipping over cracks, whistling when gardening. Hobbies: Gardening, cooking, reading, and hopscotch. Fears: * Fires * Homophobes * Pure black darkness Likes: * Strawberries * Tea * Puppies * Books * Poppies * Rain Dislikes: * Big felines (Lions, Tigers, ect.) * Snow/ Frost * Bullies * Strong Black Coffee * Horror Movies * Baseball --- --- Skills Demigod Abilities: * Chlorokinesis: As a child of Demeter, she has the ability to control plants, like accelerated growth and plant sensitivity. * Karpoi Summoning General Skills: * Baking * Gardening * Reading * Some knowledge of poison * Sewing * Cooking Combat Skills: * Some self defense lessons * Some knife lessons Magic Item: * A seed packet full of flower seeds that never empties. (Gift from her mother.) * Sickle from Demeter. (Helps her control her powers.) What Do They Carry On Them: This includes your clothing, jewelry, your wallet, your id, your keys; cash (denote which country), a picture, lighter, cigarettes, weapons you may carry, shoes, purse, bag, pistol and so forth. If it is not listed you are not carrying it. Again, keep it grounded in the real world. Limited to spots provided. * (Less carried and more being followed by) Arbor, their pet plant wolf. * Clothing - Sneakers, jeans, t-shirt, zip-up hoodie, stud earrings, necklace with a peace sign on it and a flower watch. * Purse/Wallet - Backpack~ * Wallet- With a library card for Berkeley Library, $250 US Dollars, A Berkeley Bus Pass, A few gold drachma. * Celestial Bronze Dagger, gift from her mother. * Paperback books * Photo album * House keys * Small makeup bag with a collection of normal seeds in it. * Sewing Kit * Stuffed Red Panda plush * Cell phone * Small otter plush Possessions In Cabin: * Extra clothing * Tablet (Not really used.) * Practice weapons * Small planter of her more interesting plants * Extra soft pillow from home --- --- History Biography Stella always was an unusual child from the time of her birth, as she had two fathers that loved her and one another very much so. They were rather quiet about whom Stella's mother was, always saying she was a surrogate that wanted to remain anonymous, and Stella was alright with that until she was twelve and things changed. Stella was raised by her fathers, with both a wealth of information and plants around her, as one of her fathers was a professor of biology, and the other was a celebrated flower arranger, as a Japanese-American man. It was still clear that she was a bit odd, as she had attention issues, and she was always happiest when outside in the sun and among the plants, and talking to them happily. Her fathers never saw anything odd with it, and encouraged her more. Things started to change as she got a bit older and entered middle school, and she started to notice more and more weird things. Like creatures that others didn't see, and that people were following her. Her fathers assured her that she was alright, and nothing was wrong. It was only towards the middle of December that things changed drastically in her life. How Long Have They Been At Camp Half-Blood: Stella technically hasn't made it to Camp Half-Blood yet, but they are on their way there. It was half-way through the school year, and she was struggling a bit as usual with her ADHD and dyslexia when she caught the attention of one of her classmates. Around half-way through the year, the classmate introduced himself as a satyr, and told her that there was a camp she needed to go to. After talking with her dads she set off for the camp, on a grand cross country trip. --- --- Additional Information Theme Song: Strawberry Fields Forever Extra Information: See previous Character for Sample Favorite God: Hades and Persephone, followed by Freyr I agree to follow the rules for this RP and understand that if I do not follow the rules, the GM or Co-GM may kick me out of this roleplay.</s> <|message|>Arthur Stanford Arthur Stanford --- --- Location:Dining Pavilion Skills: N/A --- As Lauryn appeared, Arthur was about to suggest that she join them as well, but it seemed instead that she was there to take Dem away from them. Arthur shrugged, if he had his own stuff to do, that was fine; especially if there was the chance that he would join them later. A thought briefly crossed his mind that, if anybody would be absolutely amazing at the creation of snowmen, it would be the Hephaestus kids, but then again, he didn't know if their crafty skills necessarily transferred to the building snowmen. It occurred to him that he didn't immediately know who the Greek God of winter is, and a part of him wanted to see if they could find any of those kids to make snowmen with them. Arthur stuck his tongue out at Demi, "I'm not gonna get in trouble." He promised. In truth, he'd been sticking to rules and behavior pretty well, if only because he'd been too emotionally wrapped up in turmoil. Eventually, when he felt back to a hundred percent, he'd probably start wrecking some havoc, but he wasn't quite there yet. He turned a side glance towards Andy, and saying, ", what's the worst I could do playing in the snow?" He chuckled, before finishing off his food, ready to head out and brave the weather for the sake of fun.</s> <|message|>Leandra Lovelace --- --- --- Location: Camp Half-Blood Barrier -> Apollo Cabin Skills: --- --- As Leandra was helped along by the guiding hand of her legionnaire companion, she opened her mouth, preparing to make some lighthearted banter with the ginger Greek girl when instead the young woman began to chew her out. Leandra raised an eyebrow, her lips dipping into a small frown. She'd not meant for Marygold to hear that exchange, hence why she lowered her voice, but it seemed that the girl had somehow overheard. Perhaps her eardrums had not yet shifted back into that of a humans, and her hearing had still been that of an apex predator. Leandra was usually quite good at making people like her, it was her defining talent. But it at times seemed as though there were those cosmically destined to bear their teeth at her. "Isley, darling, I did not mean to offend, but a battle is about more than who does the most damage. Yes, you may have dealt out more wounds than anyone on the battlefield, but you also would've received gods know how many more were it not for the intervention of young Stella. Offense is the base of every battle, but without supportive combatants, that's often all it is: a base. Forgive me for wanting to introduce your new warrior to that concept early," Leandra replied, her tone soft and pleasant, if a bit matter-of-factly. She ignored the personal jabs at her; she'd dealt with worse. Though it did seem a bit odd for Marygold to be attacking her personal performance when that hadn't at all been touched on in her interaction with Stella. Leandra let Marygold enter the cabin first, before following in after her and taking the first seat she could find. She slipped the neck of her shirt down her shoulder a bit to give Alexandra a better look at the wound she was working with, unobscured by the bright orange of the t-shirt. When Phelps spoke, Leandra let out a small, weak laugh. "Oh sweetheart, it's sweet that you think I could handle myself in a fistfight with this one-woman jungle."</s> <|message|>Andy Crane (now that Andy knows who her real family is she uses her mother's madien name) Location: Dining Pavilion Skill: --- --- Andy snickered at Lauryn's whispered secret. That explained why her brother had been so happy lately. Andy didn't know much about love. She knew stories about it though. People who were in love were happy. "I'm surprised you think I'm going to keep Arthur out of trouble. I feel like it'd probably be the other way around." Andy said. She was, of the pair of them, more likely to run into a situation without thinking it through. Arthur, while slower to act, at least thought about the consequences before following after Andy into whatever danger she was getting herself into. "I don't think snowmen building will be too dangerous of a sport anyway. I've definitely hurt myself worse on the climbing wall than I could making snowmen." Andy didn't bother fixing her hair. It was in a perpetual state of disarray so there was no point trying. She finished her food. Waved at her aunt who was sitting with the other Romans, and took Arthur's hand leading him off to find a good spot of thick fresh snow they could use. --- --- --- --- Location: Dining Pavilion Skills: --- Niah took a bite of her food thinking. "I don't think you need to sleep with the rest of the Legion. Everyone is used to you all being in your own bungalow anyway. My rank doesn't give me that luxury though." She explained. She was fine with not having the luxury. Mads turned the conversation away from sleeping arrangements to the War Games. She nodded at Zeke as he came over to speak with Nancy. She didn't care for him but that was a her problem. Especially since Nancy and he seemed close as half-siblings. "Oh, I like that idea a lot. I can use the armor to my advantage for the team on the ground." She said, trying not to interpret Zeke and Nancy's conversation. Her mind started running over scenarios. They actually would want to have the attacking team be at the disadvantage because the ship would be such a big advantage it wouldn't be a fair fight otherwise. Though it would be good for the Romans to get better at areal assault. They might be using it to take back New Rome.</s>
<|message|>Stella Herbalem Location: Camp Half-Blood - The Big House Skills: N/A --- --- "A centaur... huh. Like the one in the stars? Or that movie? The Disney one with just music and no words?" Stella offered Chiron a small smile and then blinked as he moved into the wheelchair contraption and his horse half vanished. "Pity, I was liking the horse half... why hide it like that?" Stella always had a habit of thinking aloud, so anyone could hear what she was saying at the moment. She looked up at Rosie and waved. "Stella... nice to meet you too." She watched as Rosie walked off and then sat down on one of the couches and took a deep breath. "I have like a ton of questions. First, is this about my mom? Is she the Greek God you said I'm part of? I mean that would make sense... dad and otou-san always clammed up when I would ask where I came from because I know I'm not adopted. I'm their kid... no matter what anyone else says. Also what's an oracle, why do I need to be here, why is it safe for me here rather than back home and what the heck was that thing that was chasing me and why were those two girls fighting while trying to help me?"</s>
<|description|>Caius Aluredes Age: 24 Height: 6'2 Weight: 190 lbs. Species: Werewolf Personality: While werewolves are known to be quick to anger, Caius is remarkably calm and patient both in wolf and in human form. He does, however, exhibit a very explosive anger when provoked. And when angered, he is quick, decisive and extremely brutal. He is very protective of his twin sister, Claudia, and would go to all lengths to protect her. While vampires are a natural enemy, he sees this rule with a grain of salt. As long as they do not harm him and those he consider as friend or family, then he leaves them alone. However, in wolf form, his rational and considerate way of looking at vampires becomes a little harder to uphold. History: Orphaned at a young age, he and his twin sister were adopted by a human family. As a child, he was silent and thoughtful and often said things that were wise for his age. A close friend of the family once remarked that Caius had a very old soul when she looked deep into his eyes. Thinking it to be just the ramblings of an old lady, he pushed it out of his mind. His first transformation happened on the full moon of his 13th birthday. Somehow sensing it before it happened, he had taken his sister deep into the forest where both of them underwent their painful transformation from human to wolf. Not being able to control his feral instincts and blinded by pain, he attacked Claudia until he heard her thoughts in his head. It had been an odd experience to be able to hear each other's thoughts but it was something he thought convenient. At first, he struggled to control the raw power ushered in by the light of the full moon but learned to control it in a matter of hours. As the moon receded into the horizon, the twins transformed back into their human forms. But because of the fear of putting their adoptive family in danger, both decided it best to leave and seek out those similar to them, if they existed. But Claudia, bothered by the anger she always felt and fearing that she might hurt her twin, decided to go off on her own. Caius didn't try to hold her back but promised that he'll find her again someday. He eventually found Crimson Keeper, a pack of 10 wolves tasked to keep a watchful eye on the vampires and making sure that they do not pose a threat to both werewolves and humans. Strangely enough, the pack welcomed them with reverence, something that Caius still wonders about until the present. He had time and again asked Darric, the pack leader, about it but he always replied that things will reveal themselves at the right opportune moment.</s> <|message|>Caius Aluredes All occupants if the dining table were lost in their own thoughts, making the meal a silent one. Claudia thought about how to deal with the pesky magic users, Caius chewed on the idea of having Callie turn herself into one of them while Darric watched them all. A few minutes passed by before the pack leader decided to break the silence. He cleared his throat. "I can see the wheels in your heads turning. Let me hear it then, he said, looking pointedly at Caius. Caius lifted his head, blue eyes looking straight into Darric's gray ones. "Callie is thinking of turning herself into one of us... magically," he stated straightforwardly. "Claudia thinks it's a good idea," he added. Mmhmm... Claudia agreed in between chewing, not bothering to say anything else. Darric's gaze was still on Caius. But he didn't need to voice out the next question. "I'm honestly worried. Callie has strong magic but I don't exactly know how magic is with wolf physiology and psychology. But I'd trust her if she thinks she can do it," Caius answered the pack leader's unspoken question. Darric gave Caius a small nod before turning his attention to the witch. "Well...?"</s> <|message|>Callie Lenson Callie silently went inside with Caius, wishing that she hadn't said anything to him. She shouldn't have said anything at all... She was making things harder for him, and she shouldn't be. Looking down at her food, not particularly eating any of it, she sighed to herself. Looking up as Darric spoke, Callie swallowed and dropped her hands into her lap. "Look, it isn't something that I can truly explain. There's a magic, mixing lay-line and earth, that enables witches who are particularly skilled in that area to transform into creatures. Doing so like that... well, it allows us to retain ourselves." she said softly, "It will enable me to not be a burden... but... but it doesn't stop the bigger problem. I'm a witch without a coven that can do some serious damage to whatever the coven has planned. They aren't going to stop until I'm no longer a problem." She fell silent, and looked away from them all, sighing heavily once more. She was just bringing trouble... she didn't know what to do, anymore.</s> <|message|>Caius Aluredes "I say let her do it. I mean, yeah, she did bring this whole shit down on us but it's not actually her fault those bitches are whack jobs. And she said it herself, she doesn't wanna be a witch anymore..." Claudia paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I'd probably like her better if she did turn herself into one of us. And imagine. A wolf with magical powers. That means serious firepower," she grinned. "This is the first time we'll be dealing with an unnatural wolf," Darric pointed out. "Seriously. She's been yapping about how she knows her stuff. If I were her and I'm not sure what I'm doing, I wouldn't even suggest it," Claudia argued. "Yeah, you would," Caius interjected dryly. "Well, good thing she's not me then," Claudia laughed. "Anyway, I said my part. In the end, it all boils down to what you think, Cai." Darric nodded. "No, it all depends on what Callie wants to do," Caius said, looking at Callie. "If you want to do it then you'll have my support." "Besides, if she goes rogue, we have the two halves of Fenrir here to control her, don't we?"</s> <|message|>Callie Lenson They didn't understand, but how could they? They didn't have much to do with magic, until now. How could she explain so that they would understand? "I think you misunderstand me- it wouldn't make me a werewolf, merely enable me to use my magic to shapeshift into a wolf for a time. I would still be a witch, but... if I could develop a spell I could hide my magical ability from others... " she sighed, and ran a hand through her hair with frustration as she sought the right words. "It's an option and if it means I won't be a burden, well... I'd like to take it, but... it wouldn't be permanent. I don't have that kind of magic... that's old magic, lost magic. No, for it to be permanent it would need to be a bite." But she was not going to go there. "Does that make sense?"</s> <|message|>Caius Aluredes But it was exactly where Claudia was going. As soon as the words were out of Callie's mouth, she looked pointedly at her brother. "No. I know that look Claudia," Caius said. Claudia laughed. "But you haven't even looked at me, Cai," she complained. "But seriously. THAT is the fastest and easiest way to make her one of us..." When Caius didn't respond, she shrugged and the expression on her face became serious. She looked at Darric. "Anyway, plans, right? We have to make sure those wretched shits don't get a shot like that at Caius again. I'm ready and willing to tear out their throats with your pack anytime, anywhere." She looked at Caius next. "Don't be stupid and getting in the way of spells like that again. God or not, you might not be as lucky next time. Especially since the humans we're up against aren't idiots. They would bring more firepower knowing that you somehow survived a spell that was supposed to kill you." She looked at Callie last. "You. I suggest you decide what you wanna do, turn yourself into one of us or not. It's up to you. Caius won't be making that decision for you. Either way, you're in this as much as we are. I'm not the most pleasant person to deal with but when it comes down to it, I'll make sure to protect you for my brother's sake." And then it was Caius' turn to speak. He looked at Callie for a second before addressing their group, his voice as serious as Claudia's. "We'll need all the wolves for this. We'll have the young ones sit this one out. They're too impulsive, we would have to keep an eye on them and we need to focus on this fight." He turned to Callie again and spoke in a softer tone of voice. "Claudia is right, you'll have to decide what you wanna do. But meanwhile, we need information on how many witches are there and what kind of spells they'd throw at us."</s> <|message|>Callie Lenson Callie clasped her hands in front of her, gripping them tightly as she listened to what was being said. Her own thoughts were a turmoil, and it was all she could do to not simply break down once more. She had to be strong. She couldn't be creating any more troubles for Caius and his pack, his family. She was the reason for all this... If she had turned away, before he could have laid eyes on her, would this have ever happened? She had only seen that flash of what could be, that flash of the future... and while it had seemed perfect, if this was the result... if she was going to cause Caius pain... She might not understand Imprinting to it's fullest extent, but she had never felt like this about anyone. If she could make things easier for him, she would. She met his gaze as he spoke to her, and hoped that her eyes didn't reveal just how close she was to crying. "We're better together... Apart, I'll be worrying about you, and you me. If using this spell is the only way to do it, so that you won't worry about me, than I will. All I know is I won't sit and wait to see if you'll come back to me." It was her choice... but to her, it was also his. It might not be permanent, but it was... intimate sort of thing. If she did it right, she'd share the pack's experience's as if she were truly one of them. "As for the witches... well, traditionally a coven is anywhere from three witches on wards. There was 13 in my coven, beside's myself. But Angelina could very well have recruited other coven's by now, other witches. The type of spells, well, each witch has different strengths, but mostly spells are based around the elements. There are trapping, curses, jinx's.... it really just depends. I can give a demonstration of some spells I think they would use, and I can put protective charms around the pack." @Kyrisse</s> <|message|>Caius Aluredes Caius reached out and grasped Callie's hand. As she was speaking, he squeezed her hand in assurance. After she was finished speaking, he leaned towards her and whispered into her ear. "We'll be okay as long as we're together. And we are now. So you can put your mind at rest." He sat back on his chair. "Let's make plans then." he started, his voice taking on a leader like tone. "We should have Callie demonstrate to us the spells we might be facing. Have all the wolves watch her moves, watch how she delivers the spell, observe every single movement she does. It could give us a clue of our opponents' movements." Darric nodded in agreement. "Yes, I agree. I shall call every single wolf, including the young ones. Although they will not be fighting with us, we should all be ready. No exceptions." Claudia nodded in agreement as well, her face serious just like the two other wolves in the room. "We should get to it as soon as we can. I doubt those witches would give us a lot of time to prepare. Hell, they might even attack tomorrow." She turned towards Callie. "Can you put up a protective spell around this area? Just something that would alert us if they come this way," she asked politely. Caius wasn't finished. He turned towards Callie, a serious look on his face. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to hit me with all the spells that you know." He continued before she could even say anything. "I need to know how to evade and how to deal with it if I get hit."</s> <|message|>Callie Lenson Callie nodded, although she couldn't help but worry still. She bowed her head, before nodding once more. Demonstrating spells was something that she could do, but she did have one issue. "I... I don't know if I can do that, Caius. I'm not.... I don't want to hurt you." Even if he was resistance, the thought of hurting him just about broke her heart. "I'll try... " She said softly, not wanting to disappoint her. She hesitated another moment before she took in a deep breath and spoke to the others. "I think its a mistake to not include the pups in the fighting. You'll leave them vulnerable to attack should the witches.... and its not just the witches, not anymore. It's the young vampire-witch hybrids. It's just my opinion, but I think it will be a mistake to leave them vulnerable and if you leave guards for them that will only weaken the pack. I... its just my opinion though." Hurrying on, she turned to Claudia. "Yes, I can. I can put up a strong one, where ay supernatural creature will need my permission- or those of my family- whether blood or bonded- to cross. Or I can set up a weak one which will just alert me to their pressence."</s>
<|message|>Caius Aluredes Darric nodded towards Callie. "Yes, I agree. The young ones should be trained to protect themselves. But they will not be in the heart of the battle. It would distract the more veteran fighters if our young are harmed." He turned towards the door of the cabin just as a knock echoed on it. It was Claudia's turn to nod towards Callie. "A strong one please. We need all the time we can get to prepare..." her voice trailed off as her eyes fell on a tall, slender blonde female that walked past her and straight towards Caius. "Caius, thank God you're safe. I traveled miles back here as soon as I heard," the newcomer said as she wrapped her arms around the younger of the twins. She promptly pressed a quick kiss on her lips and then began fussing over him, asking questions about what happened. All Caius could really do was blink in surprise. And then he cleared his throat. "I'm okay, Hannah," he said, gently moving her arms off him. "My girlfriend was there to help."</s>
<|description|>Izabella Grace Wellington Actor Details: Current Appearance: Nickname: Bella Age: 27 Place of Origin: Bray, United Kingdom Relationship Status: TBA Occupation: Full-time actress. Campaigns part-time with top fashion designers and/or brands. Biography: Izabella Grace was born on May 17 to Ignard and Grace Wellington, a well-to-do couple with a respected position in the city of Bray, located in one of the affluent areas of the United Kingdom. Bella was raised in a wealthy townhouse in the suburbs of Bray by her former model mother and the help of a nanny, while her father worked as a VP to the Jefferson and Bromes' UK division, one of the top businesses in Europe, to provide for the family. Her parents immediately saw the potential in young Bella, and wasted no time in signing up her daughter for private acting lessons so she could cultivate her talents to reach the full extent of them. After many years of lessons and doing short gigs here and there as a commercial actress, a breakthrough finally arrived. Bella's agent had been informed of the Edenridge project, and after informing his client about it the blonde girl and her parents were all for giving the opportunity a shot. Without wasting any time, arrangements were made to fly over to Los Angeles for the audition. And after an outstanding performance, Bella was hired to play one of the lead roles in what would grow out to be the wildly popular Edenridge television series. At the tender age of fourteen, Izabella Wellington would become Elaine "Lanie" Lancaster: the role that would catapult her to stardom. By the time Edenridge was cancelled, Bella was already set off when it came to work. A year after the series came to an end, she had scored a role in another major television series, along with partnering up for major beauty and fashion brands to promote their products. Then came her big break in the big screen with a starring role in the romantic blockbuster that was "Wildest Dreams", which earned her her very first award… And the rest is history. Bottom line: the whole world was aware of the existence and talent of Izabella Wellington. When she'd gotten the message via her manager about the Edenridge reunion, it took her a long while to get back to them. Yes, the show had given her the push to stardom for Bella to be where she is now, but did she really want to commit to the reboot and possibly lose millionaire contracts because of it? After long and careful consideration she'd decided that she owed her career to the producers who'd chosen to give her the first opportunity to push her career forward, so on the very last day the cast had to give out a response Bella made the official confirmation that Lanie Lancaster would be indeed be returning for the Edenridge reunion. Character Details: Old Appearance: Name: Elaine Marie Lancaster Nickname: Lanie Age: 16; 26 Place of Origin: Los Angeles, California Relationship Status: Reboot: Married to Roddy Callahan Old Show: Dating Mordechai Boaz, then Dating Roddy Callahan Occupation: Full-time student (in both high school and college) Biography: Little Laney was regarded by the audience as your typical snobby bitch who starved for the attention her parents didn't give her. Having moved to Edenridge after her father was relocated, Lanie was "the new girl" searching for her place in a new town and a new school, but unfortunately doing so in the wrong ways. Her time in the first season of Edenrigde High would include shoplifting, the use of psychedelic drugs to "escape reality for a bit", frequent parties in which she got shit-faced, a few hook-ups and break-ups… All of these events causing the opposite effect of what Laney wanted: instead of her parents paying more attention to their daughter and offering the love she so desperately wanted, they became increasingly tired of her and pulled away. The event that had been the breaking point for Elaine came in the last episode of the first season when, after being discovered inducing herself to vomit in the school's bathroom, Laney confessed to being bulimic. The second season of the show dealt with Laney as she tried to overcome her mental illness, and how the relations between her and her parents healed and fixed, and the third dealt with how she avoided to go back to her destructive ways and remain on the path to recovery. In the end, Elaine managed to beat the odds: she graduated high school and went straight to college, choosing to chase her dreams by studying Social Work directed at teenagers. She also became a counselor for a local program that helped bulimic patients deal with their issues and gain the recovery they deserved.</s> <|message|>Roderick Ryan Callahan Roddy Callahan - 2017 --- --- Rod rested his head atop of Lanie's as they watched people begin to spread amongst themselves. As of that moment, Edenridge High had yet to announce a "formal" reunion for the Class of '06 with this memorial service being the closest thing to one. Familiar faces across the bleachers echoed through his mind like sound through a canyon. Roddy Callahan wasn't one for having a lot of friends, not for a lack of trying though. Rod's friends were pretty much Keisha Carter and Kait O'Connor. Hell, even Lanie wasn't his true friend until much later. "I'm gonna do something horrible now babe" Roderick got to his feet and sighed. "I'm gonna go socialise. I'm doing this for you, you know? If I didn't love you, I wouldn't talk to people" Although it was said in part jest, there was a sort of truth to that statement. Rod had learned during his time on this Earth that you couldn't always count on people, they weren't always reliable. You can like and you can love but in the end the only person you can truly rely on is yourself. Roddy loved Lanie more than life itself, he trusted her with his heart, his mind, his body and his soul. The reality of it was something he felt every day, every time he looked at Ingrid…in truth, they were from different worlds and that fact was not lost on him. "Be back in five babe" He leaned forward and kissed his breath taking wife's forehead before descending the bleachers. Offering his hand out, Rod smiled "Kait, good to see you, sorry I didn't get a chance to see you earlier" --- --- SEASON 3, EPISODE 1 – BROKEN KIDS OF BOSTON --- Roddy Callahan – 2006 --- --- "Well you made it little brother" Francis looked at his grinning brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You made to the next year of high school. What's next?" Roddy flashed a cheeky grin to his big bro. "Survive and then go from there" Francis chuckled as he handed Rod the keys to his new car, it wasn't anything special, a modest little thing for a modest family. "I'll catch in a few weeks ok? I gotta get back to college" The brothers Callahan gave each other a deep hug before parting ways, one into the house, the other into the car towards Edenridge High. The smile Roddy had given his brother had been probably the falsest thing he had ever done. Before summer, life had been good. He had been in the best place mentally he had been in a while, he had good friends and even a little romance. Yet all of this faded into oblivion when their class was taken to a film festival. Secrets, lies and everything in-between had been revealed during this retreat, horribly splintering his group of friends. How everything stood going into another year at Edenridge was anyone's guess. A light buzzing filled Roddy's ear, at first it was nothing but soon enough it began to become loud and distracting. He had only just passed his test, he couldn't afford to crash his car now; he'd had it less than five minutes. He took a couple of deep breaths until all of a sudden, Derek O'Leary was punching him in the face. Roddy slammed hard on the breaks and stopped at the curb, turning to his passenger side to see nothing. Parking, Rod leaned his head against the wheel and tried to force his anxiety down into a hole. Before he knew what had happened, he was standing in the hallway, at his locker. Fuck he was losing it.</s> <|message|>Kaitlin O'Connor Kaitlin O'Connor Kaitlin turned at the sound of her name, her green eyes landing on the owner of that voice, Roddy. "No, don't apologize for anything!" she said, ignoring his outstretched hand in favor of a somewhat awkward hug. "My mini freak out was the whole reason we didn't really get to talk earlier." She inspected Roddy slowly from head to toe, reconciling the image of the awkward teenager with the man currently standing in front of her. He filled out his frame more now, and stood with far more confidence than he had in the past. Kaitlin hadn't stayed in touch with Roddy, Hell, she hadn't really stayed in touch with anyone. She was surprised by the ease in which he approached her, like they didn't have ten years separating them, but then again, Kaitlin had always found Roddy easy to be friends with. In high school, he seemed content to let her come and go as she pleased, never asking for more from their friendship than she was willing to give. Kaitlin had often felt suffocated by others expectations of her in the past, but never felt that with Roddy. She could go days without talking to him, and he would still save her ass when she needed it. Now, with ten years of life experience, she was able to see how much she took that for granted. "Are you working at the school now? I want to know everything." she said truthfully, briefly reaching out to squeeze his arm.</s>
<|message|>Izabella Grace Wellington Once again, Lanie didn't have enough time to dwell on the 'what would have been', because her husband suddenly got up and announced he'd be doing something horrible. At his wife's confused look, Roddy explained he would be off to socialize. She laughed earnestly at his jest of only socializing because it would make her happy, and gave his face a gentle caress before she watched him walk off. God, how she loved this man! She was truly lucky to be sharing her life with Roddy. Of course, all happy, bubbly feelings were gone the moment Lanie saw he was talking to none other than Kaitin O'Connor. "Something horrible, indeed..." Lanie muttered angrily, letting out an annoyed sigh. The relationship between her and Kaitin had been a rivalry for the books, one that went all the way back to high school and to this day. When Lanie had moved to Edenridge, she'd instantly became the school's 'It Girl': blonde, beautiful, with curves in the right places and a knack for having fun and being the life of the party wherever she went. Life was great… Until the red-headed Kaitlin changed from mousy and lousy to what would be Lanie's biggest competition. The red-headed girl had soon earned a reputation for being a boyfriend-stealer, one that didn't sit well with Lanie, as some of her friends had been victims of this disgusting crime against the 'Girl Code'. Kaitlin had even tried- though thankfully unsuccessfully- to get into Decky's pants, which of course only earned her even more dislike on Lanie's part. It didn't help that Roddy considered this woman one of his friends, so Lanie was forced to always keep a high guard around this situation. More than once, the blonde and the redhead were close to settling things with their hands, but there was always someone to prevent this. But to this day, she still harbored all kinds of negative feelings towards Kaitlin, and the moment she'd found out she was back in Edenridge they had flourished to dangerous levels once again. Lucky for Kaitlin, Lanie was older and wiser now. Though she wanted nothing more than to drag Roddy away from this woman, she decided to keep calm until she noticed anything else happen. After all, it was a simple catch-up of two old friends, right? Lanie shuddered at the thought of them being 'two old friends', a momentary look of disgust on her face. But all intentions of not making a scene flew out the window when she saw Kaitlin wrap her arms around her husband and daughter's father, and her conviction only strengthened with the way the redhead shamelessly inspected Roddy from head to toe. Taking in a deep, calming breath, Lanie got up from her seat. She made her way down the steps as gracefully as she had before, trying not to walk to quickly in an effort to not seem as angry-hysterical as she felt. She arrived just in time to overhear this woman asking Roddy if he worked at the school and to tell her everything. Lanie could easily tell her all she needed to know. "I'm his wife, and I'm the one who works in this school. That's all you need to know." Lanie declared, barging into the conversation with no cares in the world. She took hold of her husband's arm a little less gently than she would have in normal circumstances, making sure her wedding bands were visible, but these weren't normal circumstances. She fixed her sharp, cold blue eyes on Kaitlin, all sweetness from the previous conversation with her husband gone.</s>
<|description|>Kelvin Adamska Age: 35 Gender: Male Ethnicity/country of origin: Northern Russian Rank: Komandir otdeleniya (lit: "commander of branch", a squad leader) Method of getting powers: Surgery (Trepanning, specifically) Experiment or recruit?: Recruit Powers & their limits: Friction Control: Kelvin can control the friction between objects mentally. If he can visualize it properly, he can manipulate its friction on a molecular level. With enough concentration, this allows him to make an object slide at a constant speed or stop on a dime. Notably, this does not exempt this object from the other laws of physics regarding energy transferrence, meaning that suddenly stopping an object will inflict just as much kinetic force on it as if it rammed into a wall. Temperature Control: Due to the fact that the vast majority of all heat is caused by energy released due to friction between atoms, Kelvin is capable of controlling the temperature of an object. This takes significant amounts of concentration. State Control: Due to the fact that molecules that are colder due to them not reacting as violently to friction and vice versa, Kelvin can alter the state of matter by controlling its temperature. This takes some time, especially for elements that are gaseous or plasmatic at room temperature. Physical Fitness: Kelvin's been eating his Wheaties every day, and thus meets the Russian military's standards for physical fitness. He is as capable as a human being at peak fitness, and rocks an even farmer's tan. Personality: Kelvin is very laid-back, often spending his spare time relaxing and conversing with his friends. He has a moderate sense of duty, and a short temper in the battlefield. If he faces significant opposition, Kelvin has a worrying tendency to give up and attempt another plan of action. Most importantly, Kelvin is extremely loyal to his friends and superiors, but will not hesitate to scorn and shun them if they mess up sufficiently. Kelvin will put the security of the mission beyond the happiness and plans of his allies. Backstory: Born in Arkhangelsk Oblast in 1984, Kelvin's family was hit hard by the Soviet Union's rule and hit even harder by its fall when Kelvin was 7. After spending much of his childhood in near-vagrancy, Kelvin joined the army at the age of 18 after graduating from high school. Though he demonstrated excellent fitness and devotion to his duty, Kelvin never demonstrated clear enough skill to become anything more than a squad leader for a small platoon of contract soldiers. After being sent to the Ukraine, Kelvin demonstrated no more valor than he had demonstrated in Russia's previous campaigns. It was only through sheer luck that Kelvin and his platoon were with NATO forces when the aliens attacked. Fighting valiantly, he and his allies eked out a safe zone long enough to be evacuated to the hidden UN military base in Jerusalem. Equipment: Kelvin is equipped with a military uniform as is standard for Russian Armed Forces members. His primary weapon is his standard-issue AK-12 and GSh-18. Though these guns may seem mediocre compared to the magical armaments used by his peers, Kelvin has trained himself to unconsciously manipulate the kinetic force of the bullets, ensuring that all forms of resistance are negligible for all of his bullets. Kelvin carries a large amount of keepsakes, mostly trophies taken from noteworthy enemies and friends during his many years as a soldier. Kelvin is not above using any tools he is given, though he does balk at experimental technology.</s> <|message|>Kelvin Adamska Dammit, how did I mix up IC and Characters? Disregard this.</s> <|message|>Liam Brown Liam spent five minutes adjusting his tie. It wasn't right, he knew it wasn't right. And it wasn't right, when he heard that fly brushing its eyes. With each attempt to adjust his tie to make sure it was perfect, that fly would do it again. Contorting his face into a grimace when that dreadful sound tormented his psyche, he realized he didn't have his tie exactly straight. It was askew again, and he needed to straighten it out. As he tried doing it again, he made small smacking noise as he licked his lips. "...Not purple again." He said with a sense of melancholy. He frowned, as his fingers moved around his tie as he finally set it straight. With a small sigh he raised up his arms as he checked the collars of his suit. Liam rolled his neck around as he took his Desert Eagle and placed it in the holster on his belt. He eyed his sensory deprivation rig, a machine solely for one person, and beautifully mobile. It was quite easy to move around; Of course, as it was the one thing that helped him. He reached into his breast-pocket and took out his glasses. Brushing them off he returned them back into his breast-pocket. Smiling at his rig, he decided that he would take it with him. Walking around on the side of it he began pushing it out and towards the hanger. It is most likely where he needed to go. As Liam was walking he again, grimaced at the fact that the fly was still brushing itself. C-could it just shut up? It seems like it'd be a nice and considera- AGGGGH! He paused in going forward as he clenched at his teeth for a moment. After a few quick seconds he headed towards the Hanger once more. Liam knew that two of them were there already, and it would be remiss to not give a polite wave and felicitations at the beginning of the day. He entered the Hanger, and pushed his machine towards a nearby wall, as he gave a wave to the two there. "Hello. How are you two today?"</s> <|message|>Pvt. Harry Abrams "Nurse Micheal, I just want you to know I sincerely 'preciate all ya do here.", Harry nodded to the short, muscular man who had helped him into his suit, receiving a halfhearted grunt in response, "I 'spose I should get to shippin' out, then. Wish me luck!" The servos in Harry's armor buzzed as they flared to life, each movement carefully calibrated by electrical feedback from his own systems, a second skin of steel that was his and his alone. He remembered the conversations he had; how he should have gone into R&D work, stayed out of the fighting, served his country some other way- it would never have worked. Without the living power plant that was Harry Abrams, his inventions were worthless. His armor alone was tailored to himself to the point that, even if someone did manage to develop a battery capable of powering it, the force of the servos and calibration of the wire system would rip a normal man's body apart- their body wouldn't be able to keep up. The near-perfect synchronization Harry had with his suit's motor was the only reason he hadn't sustained permanent, large-scale muscular and skeletal damage from using it. Besides, Harry Abrams had been out of action for too long; it was time to show old Uncle Sam what he could do. He ate breakfast, checked his systems, cleaned Lucy, mounted Lucy, cleaned his AR-4, mounted his AR-4, checked that the safeties were on both, checked his ammunition bin, checked his kit, checked his suit's integrated tools, and left for the hangar. "Mornin' all.", he gave a quick salute as he stomped into the hangar, "Private Harry Abrams, reporting for duty!"</s> <|message|>Kelvin Adamska Kelvin Adamska peered out the window of his squad's forward base, into the barren streets of Tel Aviv. The movie theater they were hiding in was surprisingly well-fortified, owing to its stone outer walls and steel inner workings. The plushy seats in the lobby served as excellent makeshift beds, and were just heavy enough to be useful for blocking the doors. In a far-off corner of the room, one of Kelvin's soldiers sat in front of a radio, transmitting vital tactical data back to the tactical operations centre. "[TOC, this is forward team 2. No sign of hostiles yet. No report back from penal forces yet. Awaiting further instructions.]" Penal forces, Kelvin thought, rolling the words around in his mind like a sore wound. Instead of rounding up all those ISIS bastards and executing them for the good of civilization, we gave them back their guns and told them to fight for us. Hell, their mere presence is what's forcing us to stick our necks out without any IDF support. If it weren't for those civvie-murdering ratfuck shovelheads, I wouldn't be sucking down these spare rations! Kelvin sighed, and turned to his radio operator. He spoke in his native language, knowing that he was in the company of his countrymen. "[Anything new, Petrov]?" Kelvin asked, expecting nothing more than what he'd been given the last fifteen times he asked. "[Nothing, sir.]" Petrov responded, cracking his neck as he always did in these high-stress situations. "[What do you think is going on with those ISIS bedwetters?]" "[Who knows. With any luck, they've scouted out the area and are on their way back.]" "[Pfft, sure. My bet is they've found themselves a party of refugees and are looking for a little 'pay-back' for the last five years]." "[Petrov, be careful of what you're saying. The high command is always listening in! One more quip like that, and they might send you off with the Americans to serve as alien bait!]" "[Good! I'd rather be hiding in a crater on the frontlines than reclaiming fifty-two kilometers of this damned city!]" Kelvin left Petrov to his own devices, and returned to the window. He was supposed to meet up with some freaks fresh out of NATO's most recent attempts at turning the tide. Kelvin secretly hoped that they'd at least know where he could score some more pills and fine Israeli выпивка.</s> <|message|>Toramaru "NOW, ALIEN SCUM. PREPARE TO FACE JUSTICE." Toramaru cried, revealing his transformation watch. Striking a pose, he flew into the air. "HENSHIN! MASKED TIGER!" he shouted, as he activated his transfomration sequence. With a colorful outfit donning him, and a shout of "TIGER KICK" he dove toward the first alien, his heel perfectly impacting the "BREEEP BREEP BREEEP" Toramaru's hand tapped the snooze button on an alarm clock, though noise still came out of the television playing a recording of last night's episode of Sunred 0: EX Drive. Groggily, he pushed the cover off himself, and walked into his tiny room's tinier lavatory, running his fingers through his hair. He'd stayed up too late catching up on his serials, and had bags under his eyes, as he noticed while brushing his teeth. He was informed that his teeth would no longer require brushing on account of his new bone structure, but did it anyways. Next was the normal morning calisthenics of one hundred push-ups. These, too, would be unnecessary, along with any normal exercise, but Toramaru knew the value of disciplining one's body. After this, he clothed his chest with a signature Hawaiian shirt; this one was red, and decorated with palm trees. The shorts from yesterday would do fine. Slipping on his sandals, he headed out the door. -------------- "Yo." was all the man greeted the others with upon entering the hangar. He hoped they'd be going somewhere worth sightseeing today.</s> <|message|>MAX pssssh-chunk-clang. pssssh-chunk-clang. pssssh-chunk-clang. The sound of metal dragging against the stone of the streets of Tel Aviv, and the methodical pssssh-chunk-clang of robotic locomotion signaled the coming of MAX. One of the alien tanks had tried to run the invincible robot down, but this only enraged the robot, costing the lives- and spines- of the crew. It would have been fairly easy to move the tank aside, but it was sort of bent around him entirely due to the force of the impact. He was scheduled to rendezvous in five minutes, and getting free would take longer- so he walked. His legs showed from beneath the mangled wreck as he continued to make his way to meet up with the Russians. Normally, his programming dictated their summary execution. However, in the face of a larger threat such as the aliens, he was forced to work with the communists for the good of AMERICA. Approaching the forward base, he broadcast something in Morse over the local radio frequency. .. / .- -- / -- .- -..- / ... - --- .--. / - .... . / .. -. ...- .- -.. . .-. ... / ...- .- ... - .-.. -.-- / --- ...- . .-. . ... - .. -- .- - . -.. / - .... . .. .-. / ...- . .... .. -.-. .-.. . .----. ... / ... - .-. ..- -.-. - ..- .-. .- .-.. / .. -. - . --. .-. .. - -.-- / ... - --- .--. / -.-. --- -- -- ..- -. .. ... - / ... -.-. ..- -- --..-- / .--. .-. -.-- / -- . / ..-. .-. --- -- / - .... .. ... / -- . - .- .-.. .-.. .. -.-. / -.-. --- ..-. ..-. .. -. / ... - --- .--.</s>
<|message|>Kelvin Adamska Suddenly, a barrage of beeps and tones thundered through the radio. "[What?! What's happening to the radio? Petrov, why are you writing on a piece of paper?]" Kelvin cried, as Petrov feverishly scribbled on a notepad. "[It's morse code, sir! It says... hm.]" "[What's it say? Petrov, you know I can't read morse!]" "[I AM MAX STOP. THE INVADERS VASTLY OVERESTIMATED THEIR VEHICLE'S STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY STOP. COMMUNIST SCUM, PRY ME FROM THIS METALLIC COFFIN STOP.]" There was a pregnant pause. Kelvin cleared his throat. "['Communist scum'?]" "[Yes, that's what they said. I--I guess our support didn't know to avoid the barricade on their way in. Should we go get him?]" "[After our rendezvous just stirred up hell? Trouble never comes alone!]" Kelvin shouted upwards, towards the roof. "[Adamska! Do you see anything?]" A stringy voice sounded down from the ceiling. This voice must have been Adamska's. "[I can see a pile of glowing blue wreckage sweeping the streets! Other than that, no!]" Kelvin nodded. "[Good. Pack up your rifle, Adamska, it's time to move along. That pile of wreckage is our point man. The rendezvous point has been moved, it seems.]"</s>
<|description|>Aura Kalino Age: 23 (Appears younger.) Gender: Male Race: Sanithian - Hailing from the planet Sanith, this race of humanoids is signified by their abnormally short stature, usually averaging no taller than 5 feet. Furthermore, most (if not all) Sanithians are born with hair colours ranging from red to pink, and on rare occasions pure white. They are known for being excessive introverts, rarely socialising with anyone outside of their own race. The few Sanithians that do branch out to the other races are some of the most loyal and steadfast allies anyone can obtain, birthing the common saying, "He/she has Sanithian loyalty." Specialty: Pilot Pic: Additional: A timid yet capable member of the squad, Aura has served Team Nova as it's designated pilot for some time, barrel rolling them out of the stickiest situations and the craziest of conundrums. Has occasional, but rare, bursts of outgoingness, and is one of the most loyal members of the group. Gets pouty and mad when people mistake him as a girl, which (unfortunately for him) happens a lot.</s> <|message|>Aura Kalino The thrill of warp travel always got Aura exceptionally pumped for any mission, no matter how dire; as the ship eventually slowed to signal it's arrival at it's destination, Aura could feel his blood surging through his body. This is going to be fun! Once he had set the ship back into auto-pilot, patting and consoling the dashboard a few times while muttering, "I'll be back soon, you gorgeous piece of machinery," he hefted up a small bag of supplies from under the main console (he always kept one ready at his desk in case of emergency) and set course for the cargo bay. Marvelling at the perfection that was the Mighty Light for a few moments, he quickly shook himself out of his reverie before hurriedly rushing inside, chucking his bag into his designated locker. Once that was done, he got to work on his mandatory flight check list, zipping around the ship hurriedly so that he could get a hold of the controls as soon as possible. Focused on his work, he almost forgot to say hello in response to Hero as he walked past, evidently heading towards his seat. Is it just me, or did he look queasy? Probably just had a bad lunch. Or none at all.</s> <|message|>Adrian Xerxes Adrian awkwardly walked around his room wishing he had a list to check off. He scanned his room and in his head he thought "clothes, check... the end." He had payed the Mighty Light a visit earlier only to discover it was completely empty. So he went back to his room and then did, well absolutely nothing. Until he fell asleep. "Aww what time is it?" Adrian sleepily asked. He glanced at his clock and assuming it would be early, immediately turned to go back to bed. But wait did he see that right? "I'm late!" Adrian screamed as he popped out of bed. He sprinted over to the docking bay only and almost fell into the Mighty Light only to discover an already sick looking Hero and an excited Aura just sitting there. "Well I guess I'm not gonna get the worm, but since when was I an early bird." Adrian mentioned trying to pretend he wasn't out of breath.</s> <|message|>Aura Kalino After everyone had gotten themselves seated inside the ship, Aura made the last few checks of the engines and thrusters before setting aside his clipboard and shifting himself up into the pilot seat, spreading his hands out across the dashboard. "Buckle up, everybody," he called back, before inputting the co-ordinates for the planet of Gameia, within the Corath sector... At least, that's what the captain had told him anyway. I cannot be blamed for getting lost. Not entirely anyway. Engaging the thrusters and activating the drive sequence, Aura turned his chair around to check that all the passengers were ready, giving them two thumbs up before spinning back around. When the warp drive had heated up and was revved to go, he began pressing the various buttons, sealing the doors closed and slowly lifting the Mighty Light off the ground. With one push of the throttle, he flew the ship straight out the hangar doors, aligning towards the chosen destination before engaging warp speed, feeling the ship surge forward with incredible velocity.</s> <|message|>Adrian Xerxes "Ugh!" Adrian felt like someone just sucker punched him right in the gut. Well someone kind of did, Aura just made a sudden stop. "Alright I can see why you like doing barrel rolls, but random stopping, now your just trying to get to throw up." Adrian said while almost vomiting everywhere mid sentence. "Well you won't have to worry about anymore because we're here." Aura said arrogantly. Adrian would punch him except he was still very wobbly and he didn't feel like giving that jerky wall an uppercut again. Adrian looked out the window saw absolutely nothing except space and then decided he was going to punch Aura, even though his legs felt like the jelly he "borrowed" from the ship's cafeteria. Except when he got onto the pilots deck he saw it. A giant planet that looked like it was in no danger whatsoever. "If this is another mission where we have to get someone's cyborg cat out of a tree, that cat is gonna lose a few parts." Adrian angrily as he stared at Hero remembering the urgent mission he sent him on last month.</s> <|message|>Hero Busad Hero tried his best to remain calm, but it just wasn't possible, at least with Aura at the wheel. Hero never liked it when Aura drove, the bored but amazing pilot always did a few extra unnecessary things along the way. If it weren't for the weak sedative in his system, Hero might have actually passed out from anxiety, and vomited along way. He looked over at Adrian who was fairing as well as Hero was. He smiled slightly, thankful to know that he wasn't the only one suffering from the flight. The shipped came to a slow halt, and Hero watched as Adrian got up and went to the pilot room. Knowing Aura, Hero didn't risk unbuckling. The seat belt was the only thing keeping Hero from heave-hoing all over the cargo section. He just hoped that they would be landing soon. As he sat there, he looked out the window and saw the planet that loomed before them. It looked peaceful and calm, but Hero hoped somewhat that the signal was true. He didn't want to get down there to only find that everything was destroyed and that all the villagers would be dead. A small clink on the outside of the ship interrupted Hero's thoughts. Looking through the other window on the ship, Hero could see something in the distance. Curious to get a better view, he risked un-buckling himself to get closer to the window. Another small clink outside the ship. His eyes widened when he saw what was coming. He turned around and shouted to Aura, "Meteor Shower! 6 o'clock!"</s> <|message|>Aura Kalino Aura was about to glare at Adrian for bursting into his pilot room uninvited, but was interrupted when he heard the cry from Hero about the impending meteor shower. Oh boy... Looking at his radar, he saw the shower quickly headed straight for the ship. Gesturing for Adrian to run back to his seat, he swiftly took the controls, pushing on the throttle and zooming the ship down towards the planet. As the meteor shower quickly engulfed them, Aura cursed under his breath as he began making every manoeuvre he could, descending to the planet surface fast. As he broke the atmosphere, narrowly escaping the meteor shower, Aura's eyes went wide at the sight of the planet up close. What at first appeared to be peaceful and calm, became suddenly rocky and jagged, with nary a landing spot in sight; and the Mighty Light wasn't slowing down. "Buckle up guys," Aura cried to the others, as he did his best to pull up, keeping an eye out for a landing spot. Unfortunately, he didn't pull up fast enough, as he felt the ship surge forward after scraping across the top of a large jagged rock poking up from the surface. Quickly losing control, Aura steadied as best as he could, until the ship eventually landed with a crash at the bottom of a steep, rocky mountain. "Sorry!"</s> <|message|>Adrian Xerxes "Uuuhhhh, what happened." Adrian moaned as he woke up to a sharp pain in his head. Maybe trying to fight the person that had your life in their hands was not a good idea. Adrian sat up and looked around realizing they either must've had to crash land in the middle of the mountains due to the meteor shower, or Aura really wanted to make him and Hero throw up on each other. Adrian scanned the mountains for a village or a sign of a struggle but he saw nothing. This planet must be a little more natural than he expected. Adrian had always looked to Hero for guidance since he was who brought him onto the team after Adrian stole some medical marijuana for his friends. Plus Hero looked like he knew what to do right now so Adrian obediently waited for orders.</s> <|message|>Hero Busad Hero managed to almost get his seatbelt on before Aura tried to start avoiding the meteors. Of all the times that he took his seatbelt off, (Adrian too) became a nightmare for him. Already, Aura started emergency maneuvers which threw Hero and Adrian around like rag-dolls. Of course they bumped into eacother a few times, and at one point Adrian's head made solid contact with the metal frame on Hero's body. Hero wasn't surprised to see Adrian out could from a hit like that. As soon as they entered the atmosphere though, the gravity suddenly got stronger and Hero along with Adrian (Mid-air) got slammed onto the floor of the ship. Hero was so close to losing his meal, but he desperately fought it. Eventually, they made it to land, among the mountains, in a smoking crater. Hero eventually got up, he didn't know how long he was down, but he didn't care. He could hear Aura in the pilot room apologizing. Hero didn't care, at least they were alive, but where were they now? He looked around, mountains on all sides, it seemed that Aura managed to land in a valley. He looked around, there was, what seemed like a lake and odd looking vegetation a few hundred feet off, however, Hero quickly turned his attention to Adrian. He breathed a sigh of relief as he watch Adrian slowly get up and walk around. That alone solved most of his worries about possible damage, and concussion (his biggest fear at the moment) was off the list. Once they had all gotten out of the ship Hero could tell that the other 2 were looking at him. Waiting. Waiting for what? He wondered, then it dawned on him. It seemed that both Adrian and Aura were awaiting orders. Hero scratched his head, he suddenly felt nervous. How could this be, why did they look to him for guidance? He was a teenage boy still. He let out another sigh knowing that he couldn't change their minds so he went along with it. "Adrian, I need you to go to the vegetated area over there and bring back some of the liquid and plants over there. Bring back as many different plants as you can, and wear gloves while doing it." Hero knew that plants made great medicine and healthy sources of food, but he also knew that plants had some of the most dangerous poisons known in the universe. He then looked at Aura, "Aura, do a check on the ship and see if communications are still up. I'll look for our provisions and supplies."</s> <|message|>Adrian Xerxes Adrian wondered where their other crew member,(Giza) was while he gathered plants. She was on the ship when they left except she disappeared when they crash landed. He tried to focus on collecting the plants when he noticed a strange metallic looking plant he'd never seen before. Adrian definitely didn't know plants properties and exactly what each plant is like Hero, except Adrian has seen a good number of planets and he's never noticed a metal looking plant before. He looked at the plants he gathered and decided he didn't have a good number of plants but he did have enough so he went back to the ship so he could ask Hero about the metallic plant. It was a good thing Adrian had left when he did, since he hadn't realized how far he'd travelled and he got back right before nightfall. It looked like Aura was still working hard on the ship just like when Adrian left except Hero was just standing there staring at the plant Adrian had found. Hero explained to Adrian that it was a manmade material made of metal, plant fibers, and a nexus core. Apparently they were very rare and had many different uses. Adrian laid awake on his bed playing with the plant he had found. "What did Hero call it oh yea Newood." The Newood suddenly turned back to the flat form it was in when he found it. "So it reacts to commands" Adrian wondered out loud."Turn into Aura. It turned into a little girl."Perfect, I think we're gonna get along just fine." Adrian said admiring the humor of the Newood.</s>
<|message|>Aura Kalino Aura watched in horror as the two passengers slowly got to their feet, scratching his head as he waited for them to steady themselves and get their bearings. Waiting patiently, he pretty much already knew what he was going to do when he got out of his chair, but Aura had the common courtesy to wait for someone to at least give him orders first. But no matter what they say, my baby comes first. He was relieved to hear the Hero wanted him to check on the ship anyway, and so he hopped out from his chair and rushed out the open door. As he meticulously went over every inch of the ship, summing up the damage, he couldn't help but feel undermanned without Giza helping him with repairs. Releasing a light sigh, he put that thought in the back of his mind as he got back to work. "Damn meteor showers, ruining my day..." As he worked well into the night, seemingly tuning out everyone else as he worked, he began to inspect the surrounding landscape to calm his mind, admiring the beauty of the jagged, mountainous region they had landed in.</s>
<|description|>Zoey Ash Sex: Female Age: 29 Appearance: Basic Appearance: As the picture suggests, she is one of the few in the Lunar Coven to fully devote herself to the more animalistic side of their magic, having developed a purplish fur and skin across her body, a tail, and oversized wolf ears. However, unlike most within her specialized group, she has studied the other magics in conjunction, producing an artifact that may cast the illusion of her former appearance. This appearance is that of an averaged-sized, if beautiful, woman in her late 20's. Though her clothes may change to suit the occasion, she is most commonly in street clothes; tee-shirts and jeans. However, she does consistently wear a small gold necklace with a wolf charm, in both forms, into which the illusion magic is imbedded. Her eyes are silver, and her hair does come out purple now, though it used to be brown. The most common excuse she uses is that she dyes it. Zoey uses a her clawed feet and and pouch of throwing stars as her primary weapons. Abilities Passive: Wulvmorph: She is able to smell and hear better than normal humans, and has the ability to see clearly at night. She is also more agile and resistant to injury Lunar communication: She is able to understand and communicate simple messages with and through creatures of the night. These include things such as bats, wolves, and similarly disposed creatures. Alchemical experience: She has a proficient knowledge in night time flora and their uses, typically applied to wounds and antitoxins. Illusory-form: She can pass off easily as a normal human with good senses because of her pendant, which is easily charged. Active: Shapeshift: She is able to shapeshift at will into a wolf, which dramatically increases her ground speed and agility. She is still able to cast magic out of this wolf form, meaning that if she were ever trapped as a wolf she would still be able to communicate and uphold her duties. Illusion magic: She is able to cast a quick spell for minimal affect: Speech out of wolf form, a brief vision, a flash of light, etc. with no preparation. Otherwise, depending on the complexity of the spell, and the distance of the illusory site from her casting zone, there can be a substantial set-up time for the spell. Teleport: She is able to teleport up to a distance of about 20 yards without preparation. Other distance may require anywhere from a 40 minutes to an entire week to prepare for. Noctalance: A lance of silver life that causes a freezing puncture wound, called from above. It is most effective at night with a full moon, but can be used to affect even in the day. (Though at such times they are little more than needles the size of a toothpick.) Shadow dance: A highly complex maneuver of shadow magic, it uses two steps. Manipulation of shadows and darkness, and a unique, highly specialized teleport that requires those shadows. The effect is a blindingly fast teleport that can be used to apply rapid strikes to a target, typically one per teleport. It looks like passing through liquid shadows to pop out of another liquid shadow. Moon's Bounty: A small-scale healing and stabilization magic, it involves drawing a crescent rune on the target and charging it with magic, which will ensure the target won't die of something physical and slowly heal them over time, for as long as the rune persists. The mark is low-energy, but also generally doesn't heal much more than a scraped knee in it's duration unless it is charged beyond. The direct-spell version of this would feel like getting dunked in ice water, and coming out with fresh, but the feeling is described as, "Undesirable, to be used only if the person would otherwise die. Because they would otherwise wish that they had." Backstory Zoey is from a town called Billings, a relatively large town in Montana. Her story of joining the Lunar Coven is actually one of the less eventful ones: she was approached one night while she was in college and accepted. A talent, she quickly acquired her skills within the Coven and acquired the title of Acolyte. As an acolyte, she established herself as one of the best, able to easily practice in the large, open ground of her home state, and train in the rougher, mountainous regions also found in the unremarkable stretch. Eventually, she reached a status of elitism. Having chosen to pursue transformation magic, this culminated in a visit from "the Aspect of the Wolf," a spirit entity of the highest rank within their order, though also not human. She received it's blessing, becoming infused with it's power to become the creature she is today. She still faithfully serves the Coven, believing in their work to make the night a little less bumpy for the more ignorant humans of her region. Personality Cheerful, though both independent and private, she is used to going long times with only brief social contact. While she isn't overly rude, she does speak her mind and may occasionally misspeak, missing a social clue or such. That said, she is concerned with helping people, and will act in the way she believes will help humans. She believes herself to be a good person, and still human. While she is used to such comments now, it still will sting her pride if she is referred to anything else. She does not get angry often, but if she is made to become angry, she tends to act quickly and explosively. Such outbursts do not usually involve violence, but it is still not recommended. The Lunar Coven: docs.google.com/document/d/1KxiyMJLvF1..</s> <|message|>Raiya Mamushi Raiya followed closely behind Nemo as they entered the room. The murky water that covered the room reminded Raiya of the swamps of Florida. She'd visited Florida before in order to take back control of a branch of her Crux gang that had been rebelling. The stuffy heat of the humid Florida climate was not her speed, so she did her best to end the insurgency quickly so she could get back to her penthouse in New York City. After an exchange of words, the suave looking cutlass wielder used a spell to move all the swampy looking water upwards and out of the room. Raiya took a moment to examine their opponent. She activated manalysis while observing him but it didn't seem like he was too powerful. She assumed he was suppressing his aura to some extent, but she was still confident that either one of them could take him on their own. "So, how do you want to do this? Rock, paper, scissors? Drawing lots? I have some dice we could use." Raiya suggested. When the man with the cutlass raised an eyebrow at her questions, she sighed, and rested her left wrist on her katana hilt, "To see which one of us fights you first. I mean, you don't honestly think you could take us both on at the same time do you? It would be over much too quickly, and that would just be no fun at all." She smirked. She turned back to Nemo, "You can choose the method. I mean, we can even toss a coin if you want. I don't mind." She stated.</s> <|message|>Travis McGrath Travis couldn't see the results of his attack so well but the sudden discharge of heat exploding ahead of his cryo spell likely meant that Roy has responded and countered as a plume of steam spewed almost everywhere from the point of impact. Travis wasn't a genius tactician but through the many run-ins with disciple witch hunters, he figured that Roy would take the opportunity to relocate and attack from a flank. The problem was however from which direction. Travis frantically looked around for any trace or cues of Roy before the former witch hunter could pounce on him. It didn't take long for him to pick up on the activity that was occurring behind him. Something hard hit the ground followed by hastened footsteps approaching him. He quickly swung around as fast he could with a rune already beginning to form in his hand. However that spell would not come to pass as a billow of crystalline dust engulfed him. Another hunter tactic he was aware of but only after a brief moment after being covered in the stuff. He first found that the still-generating glyphs in front of his hand faded away and another second would go by until he found that Roy was already on top of him and bringing in a swing of his dagger at him. With no real way to defend himself, Travis tried to desperately evade by forcing as much weight as he could behind him. Whether the maneuver would work or not was still up in the air as he pulled his forearms out to defend himself as a reflex of not wanted to be slashed. It was then at a mere split-second before Roy's weapon could reach him did Travis take note of something dark; pitch-black in fact was the entity that loomed over he and Roy. Uh oh.</s> <|message|>Nemo "Xero" Smiley "I coin toss would do fine. I usually have them handy." Nemo replied, reaching into his leather jacket and picking out a large solid silver coin. It was the same type he used for various payments in the underworld, the silver variant was the most common overall. He held up one side of the coin, picturing a basic runic circle with a angel in the middle among some writing. "Heads." He stated, then flipped it to the other side, revealing a witch hunter anti-magic style circle with a demon in the middle. "Tails." The sides acted like a yin and yang to each other, effectively cancelling out any type of real magical effects they might have. "Since it's my coin I think it's only fair I get to call, I'll go for tails." Nemo explained, rolling the coin across his knuckles before flipping it high up into the hair. He caught it with his left hand an flipped it on top of his leather glove. After lifting his left hand off he grew a rather disappointed reaction. "Heads." He revealed. "I hope this fight will be more satisfying for you than the last was." He added. Nemo was a bit disappointed, not just because he was going to have to sit this out, but because he had hoped to work more on their synergy during this outing. But he resided in the fact that there still was likely to be much more adept enemies to utilize than on. Caspian grew even more annoyed than before after the coin toss. If clearing out the water wasn't tedious enough, having to be insulted on his capabilities of handling the fight was even worse. The outcome didn't bother him much, while Nemo had annoyed him, and insulted his intelligence, he found her condescending comment much more infuriating. "I'll be sure to try to keep you entertained." Caspian said between gritted teeth and he pulled his cutlass from it's scabbard once more, it now glowed a feint blue. He was ready to fight. --- Everything seemed to slow down for Roy as he tried to contemplate what was happening. He was beginning to regret engaging all three of these enemies by himself. His dagger slash quickly became the least important thing to him once he noticed the large looming shadow coming towards him. Realizing that if he followed through he was likely screwed, he gave up and diverted his attention to the new threat before it was too late. With most of the dust blown away, it made creating a spell more difficult, but possible now. Roy sidestepped away from Travis and creating a glowing sigil from his palm to try to stop the attack. It expanded out to be much larger after being activated. But to Roy's dismay, instead of stopping, it ethereally passed right through. For a minute he resigned himself to his fate and counted his lucky charms, but instead it passed right through him as well. Roy was about to click his heels together in joy until he heard a gunshot. With the shadow hand taking most of his attention and all of his remaining mana he gathered, he was mostly helpless against it. Roy though fast and tried to dodge by leaping away and spinning in the air acrobatically. The slug barely missed by ripping through the coat and shirt around his stomach, leaving a awfully painful sting in the line that it passed though. But in the end, Roy still felt lucky. Roy rolled back to his feet away from the group, he seemed to be upset by the fresh hole in his coat. "Now that wasn't very nice." He commented. With no mana left, he didn't feel like going back on the offense yet until he was more comfortable with what this group was capable of.</s> <|message|>Raiya Mamushi Raiya beamed with excitement at the win of the coin toss. "Better luck next time, Smiley-san." She grinned, "Don't worry, I'll lit you have dibs on the next guy." She concluded. She activated her enhancement aura, a crackling pinkish aura of electricity pulsated throughout her body. Her hair began to wave softly, and her ahoge stood straight up as it received electric charge. She tossed off her leather jacket and hoodie, leaving just her black tank and fishnet shirt. Raiya stepped forward, accepting the win of the coin toss. She tilted her neck to the left and right, a soft series of cracks could be heard as she did so. She continued to step forward closing in on her enemy. "Try not to die on me too quickly, okay?" She chided. Then she narrowed her eyes and assumed a battle posture. She angled herself a bit sideways, putting her right leg in front of her left leg, and she hunched over placing her right hand on her hilt, and left hand gripping the saya. Using her enhanced speed she stepped quickly within striking distance, and used iaijutsu to draw her katana in a horizontal quick slash,</s>
<|message|>Zoey Ash Zoey searched for Nemo's mana signature on the ship and sent an illusion his way. It was just a voice, it would sound like it was in his head. "Ran into some trouble on the deck. There's a witch hunter up here. Figured you'd want to know, in case you needed to add some fingers or whatever. Also, Zuri has become some form of shadow." She then teleported and relocated to a new angle, a little further back and off to the left, took aim at the knife shoulder, and pulled the trigger.</s>
<|description|>Denise "Thunder child" Le Rouge Age: 32 Race: Half-Succubus, half-human Appearance: Her eyes have an unnatural look to them. Her pupils are tiny in their normal state but expands to cover up to half of her eyes when she gets excited about something. Her hair is fiery red but is most often covered with soot, oil or other impurities when she buries herself in work. She has an eerie appearance due to how she dresses and looks and thus most avoid her. There aren't too many who can look at her face for too long without feeling uncomfortable. Probably due to how she looks at people. She looks at them like they're food, or subjects to study or play around with. She carries herself with a light, playful demeanor, almost skipping forwards as she walks. Attire: Her armour is another quite distinguishing feature about Denise. While it doesn't offer the best protection in her abdomen area the rest of her body is quite protected by the armour. Encrusted with runes and gems which offer protection way beyond what the leather and metal ever could do. She has intentionally given it a daemonic appearance to scare off people who might make a fuss around her shop or around her person. Besides, she isn't too fond of people to start with. As for her clothing, the rare times she is not wearing her armour....is nothing or a red, silken nightgown in general, sometimes other thin fabrics that feels nice to the touch. Bio: Denise doesn't know who either of her parents are. All she knows about them is that both of them are dead. Her father was killed in an expedition into the wastes while her mother was captured, and bred. A daemon with an interest into mortals was conducting an experiment to see if it was possible to cross-breed. Indeed it was, and Denise was born, or Azaerielle as she was named by the daemon. Her mother though did not survive the birth as it tore her apart, her life feeding Denise. Azerixar, as the daemon was named took her into his care. Teaching her how to use magic, carve runes and use her daemonic powers. The daemon kidnapped more women and bred them, creating a total of five additional children, for reasons unknown. He treated them with love and care along with protecting them against the dangers of the world until they were old enough to care for themselves. However after a couple of years he demanded that the children would fight each other until just one remained or they would all be destroyed. Denise was one of the first that took action, running a fanged hand through her sibling's heart. As she did one of the gem's on her armour lit up. After the first kill she was filled with an unnatural bloodthirst as she descended upon her siblings. One of her brother's had already claimed one before she took his life, causing two more gems to light up. In the end there was Denise and one of her sister's still standing. Both of them were covered in wounds from the fierce fighting. They launched against each other and fought hard and long, but in the end her sister was laying on the ground, bleeding out. Just when she was going to deal the killing blow their father intervened and transferred the glowing gem from the defeated to the victor. He then started carving runes into Denise sister's body. Slowly the girl started changing, growing in size, turning into stone. Soon after the body coursed with red, infernal energies as it was brought into life. Her father turned towards Denise. He told her to go into the world of the mortals. Live with them, study them, if possible breed with them. She had accepted before her father added that her sister, the newly created golem would follow as her guard and that she was not to return without accomplishing her tasks. Denise however, had no intention of ever returning. Instead when she made it to Nethren port she set up shop there. She took over a workshop from some old man and made it her own and started working on her own experiments. Unlike her father though, her own was based around magitek devices and runes. She gained her nickname when she blew up a nearby hill when she was trying out a new device that was launched from a catapult. Mostly because she had been jumping around like a little child when it tore the hill apart with a thunderous crack. Nowadays she mostly makes different devices for daemon hunters and other adventurers. Everything from a rune encrusted musket to high-explosive bullets, to a tea maker. Her plans are to get filthy rich from the civil war in Abbaden, selling weapons to both sides if possible. But who knows, things might change. Personality and Aspirations: Denise is a bit of a special child. The experience of killing her own siblings has turned a few screws..a bit more loose. She takes delight in explosions and mayham, but she's not the kind to just randomly blow things up. However she'll never say no when someone asks her to. She is somewhere between a childish mind and a devil's. She can be jumping around all happily while blowing people up. Fuzz over small things, but then be very mature about other things. Perhaps she just wants to see the world go boom? Inventory: * Rune carving tools. * Blacksmith tools. A simple anvil, hammer, bucket, pliers, normal stuff. * Essential supplies, including a waterskin, tent, bedroll, ect * Helvyra, her trusty golem which carries most of her things, and most often Denise is riding somewhere on the golem. The golem has a big backpack and a 'saddle' on it's back and shoulders for carrying things. The golem itself is not too remarkable. It's what you'd expect from a golem. It's very strong and sturdy. It has the capability to shoot firebolts with it's mouth. The thing that makes it special though is that it'll keep reviving, no matter how much you seem to kill it. As long as the soul gem remains intact, it'll keep coming back. Skills: Combat skills: While she doesn't use any weapons part from the claws on her armour she knows quite well how to make good use of them. While relying on long range magic to fight but when they close in she uses a mixture of claw attacks along with magical attacks and the support of her golem to come out ahead. Thusly she is mostly trained in agility and hit and run strikes. Infernal magic: Her daemonic roots gives her plentiful control over the infernal magics of her people. This mostly manifests in the ability to use and control fire and darkness but also in mind manipulative spells like seduction or horror. These spells are but suggestions at her current power. Seeming more attractive or alluring, making people feel more calm around her. Or make herself look like a nightmare to give the children a good scare. Along with a rare power to manipulate souls and drain essence from her succubus heritage. Denise can drain life-force from living things by touching them. A quicker way is by kissing, or very quickly by getting intimate. The poor soul of her victim can either be used to feed Denise and heal her of wounds, or can be stored in gems that she carries. These souls can be used to empower her magic or feed them to herself, or Helvyra to unlock more and more powers, or so her father said at least. Runecrafting: The ability to craft runes into items, and people. Most of her designs revolve around making things go boom or help things go boom. Like improving the power of a cannon to shoot flaming projectiles, or exploding ones. She can do more 'mundane' carvings as well, but she considers those to be quite boring. She knows the 'forbidden' art of carving souls into the runes, empowering and making the runes more stable. Or if the victim is alive, create a minor golem. She is by far not able to create another golem like Helvyra, hers deteriorate quite quickly. Languages: Barazhad (language of daemons), Abbalic and Neath-scratch Current Location: On her way to Falke, a day or so away.</s> <|message|>Autumn Bladerunner "Little One" Autumn Bladerunner - Twilight Tower As the dust swirled around in the wake of the runaway cart, Autumn ceased her shouting as the man ran past her after his belongings. The cart came to a stop a short way down the road and the man managed to catch up with it out of earshot. With his footsteps long since past her, Autumn sighed and looked around. She hoped that not too many eyes had witnessed her ability, though in a town filled with magic, she hoped people would pass it off as some kind of spell, even if that wasn't the truth. Sighing in relief that she was intact and hadn't partially embedded herself in the fence post, Autumn turned and blinked as the woman from before rounded the corner of the gatehouse and approached her. As she was informed that she'd dropped something, she glanced down, checking herself over. she turned and dumped her pack on the ground. Her waterskin still seemed to be attached to her bag. As were the various bits of camping gear. She opened the lid and rummaged around for a moment. Everything seemed to be in place. Gasping she stood up and reached down, checking her weapons. They were all still in their sheathes, although one of blue crystalline short swords was partially exposed causing a glint of blue to shimmer up into her eyes; a mistake she quickly corrected with a shove to seal it back in it's scabbard. Best not to show them off unless she really needed to. Confused, the woman shifted to checking her pouches one by one. Her smaller coin purse was still there. Her rations and smaller flask was still present. She went along her rather ample hips checking each and every pouch until- Her hand passed over the open flap. She wracked her brains trying to remember what was in that particular pouch. Then she gasped for the second time. Quickly spinning in place she started looking all around, lifting her bag from the spot where she'd set it down and even grasping the fence to peer over the other side in the grass. "Oh no... oh no no no no no, where did it go?!" she cried, looking frantic. She had no idea that she'd trampled and buried the seed from earlier in the mud, and with all the foot-traffic at the main gate, there was no telling where it might be sunk into the mud. Cursing again, this time in abbalic, she kicked the fencepost in frustration and then sighed, "Great. Now what am I going to tell him...?" she asked rather rhetorically. She'd nearly forgotten that Serena was standing nearby. When she turned and saw the tall possibly Foji figure standing there, she blinked a few times. "H-hey wait, you. D-did you see where it went when I dropped it?" she asked hopefully. Though- she doubted it. between the smoke and dust that the cart kicked up and the flurry of movement, it would be a miracle if she did. She didn't hold her breath. At least- not at first. The realization suddenly hit her that if she saw her drop something- she saw her shadowstep. Her eyes widened and she looked up at Serena over the black mask that covered her lower face. "W-wait. What all did you see..?" she asked, somewhat nervously. It was almost as if she didn't want anyone knowing what she was capable of. Like she had some reason to hide it like a closely guarded secret. She stood upright again, her cloak flowing down around her body mostly except for the raised hand halfway between the two of them with a tense but nonthreatening posture, palm down and fingers outstretched. She swallowed hard and waited to see what happened next. Six years in these strange lands and she still couldn't be sure of what to expect from anyone so far away from home.</s> <|message|>Sage @bobert778 "Oh, I know a little..." Sage said, almost a little embarrassed by what his socially deprived brain decided was praise. "I know enough to fulfil my duties as a sage, although I'd definitely like to learn a little more." He looked to the girl who he was sure was the partner of the creature beneath the ground, one eyebrow raised even as she continued to glare at him. "So wait, does that mean that creature under the ground isn't your familiar?" He asked, confused. "I was so sure you would be, considering the way the spirits said you were leading it around with your staff. Unless that was just a coincidence, in which case we may need to prepare for a fight..."</s>
<|message|>Denise "Thunder child" Le Rouge Denise laughed. "Isn't that part of the fun? With your body I figured you'd be while enough to survive without too many scratches." She tilted her head towards Chambala. "If nothing else you can flap your arms and crow like a bird." There was other ways of course. Like create a raft and make a makeshift steam engine with her powers. Denise herself could easily get past, but not the rest. Rebecca though brought up a point that Denise did not have to worry about, soldiers were easy to charm. A normal patrol were nothing, a camp though would be harder. "South it is." she sighed deeply. She had not went this way last time. Last time she had just crossed the river without any care. Besides, who want to show off their cards for free? This would be a long trip she figured and hopped into her golem. Once up there she sat down and wrapped her legs around its head and closed her eyes. She might as well practice while they were traveling. When she opened her eyes again they glowed a dim red and the swirls in her eyes formed up into a five pointed star. She looked around her. The others near her looked dofferent now. I'm her eyes She could see an outline around them. A glow from within them which radiated outwards. Calieo shined like a star. No surprise there. Chambala had a beast roaring within her. No surprise again. Rebecca though was an enigma. It was just a book. A book that was open when she was not looking and closed when she glanced towards it. Strange indeed. Denise looked away from the group as she felt a headache encroach on her mind. Soulsight was useful, but she could not use it very well. She closed Her eyes again and when she opebed them her eyes switched again. This time the lines looked like a flame. They moved on their own as if they were alive. She could feel the heat as ten small fireballs appeared around her head. They started spinning faster and faster. With a motion of her hands they expanded and started slowly circling her head clockwise. With another motion they moved fuether away from her head as they expanded again. With a few more motions they started picking up the pace. They stopped expanding when they were fist sized and then started shrinking again until they were no bigger than a keyhole. While they shrank they flowed towards her, when expanding, outwards. It was like a little dance of flames. After a little while they alternated their patterns so that some were big and some small. After that she started making them dance around her. A perfect exercise to control your powers if she may say so herself. She got so absorbed into her training that Denise shut out the rest of the world. She could only see the movements of the flames around her.</s>
<|description|>Ethel Cilente * Age: 15 * gender: Female * Appearance: Totally did not rip the entire character off, nope. * Personality: Ethel is very soft-spoken and quite deadpan at that, she shows emotion through only very minor changes in her behaviour. The girl doesn't seem to know a whole lot about communicating with people and can get misunderstood quite easily. In a duel she can lose her temper very quickly and go off the hook, becoming more ruthless the angrier she is to the point where if it's someone she hates she could just outright scream for them to get killed. * History: Ethel's led a sheltered life with a rich family, never really going out in the open much. Not at all, really. Her pale skin is because of her staying inside so much, which causes her stamina to also be much lower than a normal person's. She recieved minor dueling education a little while back, enough to learn her the basics of how to play, but before that she was always occupied in other lessons such as different languages or different musical instruments. She is able to do a whole lot as long as it doesn't require too much physical exercise but at the same time hasn't had the chance to talk to a whole lot of people. Her parents sent her out to the duel tower to give a better education on duel monsters. * Favorite Card/Archetype or theme: Artifacts. * Chosen Structure Deck: Justice Counter-Attack! (custom) + Monsters: 22 Ally Salvo x 1 Ally of Justice Unlimiter x 1 Ally of Justice Searcher x 1 Ally of Justice Core Destroyer x 1 Ally of Justice Unknown Crusher x 1 Ally of Justice Cyclone Creator x 1 Ally of Justice Cycle Reader x 1 Ally of Justice Quarantine x 1 Ally of Justice Reverse Break x 1 Ally of Justice Garadholg x 1 Ally of Justice Thousand Arms x 1 Ally of Justice Nullfier x 1 Ally of Justice Omni-Weapon x 1 Ally of Justice Clausolas x 1 Ally of Justice Enemy Catcher x 1 Ally of Justice Thunder Armor x 1 Ally of Justice Cosmic Gateway x 1 Mystic Tomato x 3 Armageddon Knight x 1 Dark Blade the Captain of the Evil World x 1 + Spells: 12 Cup of Ace x 2 Leeching the Light x 1 Level Tuning x 1 Autonomous Action Unit x 1 Break! Draw! x 1 Crashbug Road x 1 Double Summon x 1 Harmonic Waves x 1 Iron Call x 1 Mind Control x 1 Cost Down x 1 + Traps: 6 Defense Draw x 2 Dark Bribe x 1 Call of the Haunted x 1 Dimension Wall x 1 DNA Transplant x 1 + Extra: 3 Ally of Justice Decisive Armor x 1 Ally of Justice Field Marshal x 1 Ally of Justice Light Gazer x 1 * Chosen Pack : Hidden arsenal 3 * Current deck: * Monsters: 21 Ally Salvo x 1 Ally of Justice Unlimiter x 1 Ally of Justice Searcher x 1 Ally of Justice Core Destroyer x 1 Ally of Justice Unknown Crusher x 1 Ally of Justice Cyclone Creator x 1 Ally of Justice Cycle Reader x 1 Ally of Justice Quarantine x 1 Ally of Justice Garadholg x 1 Ally of Justice Thousand Arms x 1 Ally of Justice Nullfier x 1 Ally of Justice Omni-Weapon x 1 Ally of Justice Clausolas x 1 Ally of Justice Enemy Catcher x 1 Ally of Justice Thunder Armor x 1 Ally of Justice Cosmic Gateway x 1 Mystic Tomato x 3 Armageddon Knight x 1 Dark Blade the Captain of the Evil World x 1 * Spells: 12 Cup of Ace x 2 Leeching the Light x 1 Level Tuning x 1 Autonomous Action Unit x 1 Break! Draw! x 1 Crashbug Road x 1 Double Summon x 1 Harmonic Waves x 1 Iron Call x 1 Mind Control x 1 Cost Down x 1 * Traps: 7 Defense Draw x 2 Dark Bribe x 1 Call of the Haunted x 1 Dimension Wall x 1 DNA Transplant x 1 Gozen Match x 1 * Extra: 3 Ally of Justice Decisive Armor x 1 Ally of Justice Field Marshal x 1 Ally of Justice Light Gazer x 1 * Collection: Justice Counter-Attack! Worm Solid x 1 R-Genex Turbo x 1 Jurrac Stauriko x 1 Fabled Urustos x 1 Summon Reactor・SK x 1 Ally of Justice Reverse Break x 1 Morphtronic Map x 1 Worm Zero x 1 * Points: 25</s> <|message|>Clementine Guérin Rattle, rumble, bump-bump. The bus rolled on and on. During the bus ride, Clementine was, well, insufferable. She accounted for at least 60% of the noise in the bus with her constant jokes and conversations to everyone near her. The more noise the bus made, the more noise Clementine made to be heard. It was like a torture no man should have to endure. The sweltering heat was beginning to get to her. Towards the end of the trip, her loud voice slowly managed to quiet. This was the second trial, according to Clementine's imagination. Finally, the bus stopped. Clementine looked out the window and saw the large tower. It was much bigger than anything back home. It was quite amazing. Clementine, being quite close to the front, ended up getting off the bus near last. From there, the bus driver opened up a large compartment and began to pull out bags for the students. Everyone got their bags, with Clementine being almost last (again). Her bag was unnaturally small. It was only a small handbag. Some students had brought giant suitcases, but Clementine brought barely anything along with her. With her bag, she followed another man who seemed to also be near last. He seemed to know what he was doing. She followed him to the large elevator which carried the students up and continued to follow him. The new students were all picking out what decks to use, and a pack (if they chose that they wanted it). Clementine, being the intrepid listener she was, didn't know what was even going on. She panicked and did nothing. She did nothing for a rather long time and ended up being the last person to choose their deck. There were only two decks left. One appeared to be a super edgy deck, the only light coming from it was the holographic lines on it, and the other one was had a god-damn Gellenduo on it. Being the intrepid and intelligent duelist that she was, Clementine chose the deck with the sweet-ass Gellenduo on it. "That one!" Clementine said, her finger pointing to it. The teacher sighed, and handed the one with Gellenduo on it to Clementine. "And any pack?" He said, to which Clementine replied "I have something I want, so Megabox Megatin Megathing 2014!". The man sighed once again, and handed her the pack along with a dueling disk. Clementine was excited. She may get it. She ran off to a secluded corner in the room to open her pack, her hands trembling with excitement. A look of defeat crossed her face as she didn't get it. She needed it. It was the greatest card in the game. She sighed as she put the cards from the booster pack into her collection. "I guess I'll just use straight vanilla." She said while putting the deck she had gotten into her dueling disk.</s> <|message|>Steven Ryte Steven sat alone, shuffling through the deck of cards, reading, memorizing, and thinking up combos with every card. Soon, all of the students from the bus had arrived, taking their decks and their seats. Some of the students who had brought luggage had set it in the far corner of the Arena, out of the way, but still a bit annyoing. 'Why didn't they just have it delivered?' Steven though to himself, immediately realizing that most other people didn't have the money to have their luggage privately delivered through a desert. Suddenly, the intercom turned on, and a set of 4 screens, which hung from the ceiling, 1 visable from each direction, lit up with the words "PLACEMENT DUELS" in bold letters. "Hello students, I am the Headmaster of the school, you may call me Headmaster Preccon. Today, you will have to duel with all of your ability, in order to place in a dorm you are truly worthy of. Though, don't worry about winning or losing, focus on how well you play. Play well, do well, place well. That is the focus of today. Anyway, here are the placement duels, in order of time." As the listed duels came up, pictures of the duelists appeared beside their names. Yin Yuen @Ciphra VS. Michelle Kine @Scarifar In Arena B1 Clementine Guérin @SilverDawn VS. Hayato Ray @Satoshi Kyou In Arena B2 Megan Claravet @Eklispe VS. Haas Mesman @The Irish Tree In Arena B1 Vincent Gulfus @1Charak2 VS. Ethel Cilente @Ammokkx In Arena B2 Steven Ryte [ME!] VS. @Ostarion's character (if they make one, otherwise, NPC) In Arena B1 ---Random duels between students you don't care about--- A BUNCH OF DUELS THAT DON'T MATTER TO THE RP! Steven looked at the duels listed. He was in the third set of duels. Great. He didn't really pay attention to his opponent's name or face. He didn't care. The Headmaster's voice picked back up, after the last duel scrolled off the screen, returning to the boring "PLACEMENT DUELS" screen. "The duels will begin in 10 minutes. Duelists for the first round, you may take your places, greet your opponent's and whatnot. Good Luck students, let the heart of the cards be with you" The old headmaster's voice was no longer audible, and the chatter of students picked up. Steven looked at the Arena, specifically at arena B1. From where he exited the elevator, he was sitting on the right side of the room, facing the left. He was sort of in the middle of the stands, just about at the line between B1 and B2. B1 was closer to the elevator, and was towards the left of steven's vision, while B2 was on the right of it. The way the arenas were set up, both duelists would be visible from the side, allowing for a more complete view of the field than looking at it from behind one of the duelists could allow for. In the middle of B1, a large "B1" was painted it white on the ground, to help distinguish the arenas. B2 had the same treatment, but with a large "B2" instead, of course. Steven sat back, and waited for the duels to begin.</s> <|message|>Megan Claravet Megan eagerly looked up from her cards at the sound of someone talking over speakers to see several TVs with the large bold words, "Placement Duels". Curious to see this she watched screens display the duels- and gave a sigh of relief. Perfect, she wasn't starting things off and she didn't have to end things with a bang either. Megan looked at the screen again, Arena B1 against someone named Haas. Well that sounded alright, Megan figured she'd head to B1 just to be prepared and to watch the duel that came before her. That and she really needed to look at her deck some more, the amount of cards was slightly overwhelming for her. Still viewing through her cards Megan slowly began walking towards B1, maybe she could get some ideas when she watched the duel, or better yet someone would sit next to her that could help her out. Though her steps were a little shaky and she wasn't paying enough attention around her to take note of any other duelists, honestly just the thought of dueling with so many spectators, what if she did terrible? What if she misplayed something obvious? Even worse the voice had said play well, which meant that even if she won she still might not do well. All these thoughts raced through Megan's head as she found a seat in arena B1, in fact she was even beginning to feel a little queasy, so many people watching, waiting for her to fail...</s>
<|message|>Ethel Cilente Ethel waited patiently for the announcement to come, which wasn't exactly hard to do since it came only a minute or three after she'd finished slotting her deck into the provided duel disk. The bulky thing was rather heavy on her arm, but she seemed to be able to lift it without much trouble. The bluenette looked at the screens hanging from the ceiling, which lit up to show the "Placement Duels" screen. Almost immediately after the principal finished speaking pictures of people flashed across the screen, showing who was up against who. Ethel noticed her own in the second round. She'd lowered her hood in the picture, showing her light blue hair in full instead of half-covered. The girl was up against a rather feminine looking boy, who seemed to be a bit taller judging from the picture. Curiosity got the best of Ethel as her eyes darted across the screen to see who else went up against who. Ethel's eye caught a glimpse of the sleeping boy on the bus earlier... Did he make it after all? She looked around the room, trying to find the boy. They were helping another guy, attaching their duel disk much like how Ethel had accidentally discovered it herself. How nice of that person. Wasn't the boy he'd been helping supposed to go up and duel someone else though? Ethel curved her lips softly upwards in content, then focused back towards the arenas. On A field two girls had already taken their place and raised their duel disks, about to start dueling. Ethel looked with anticipation at the battle that was about to happen. She'd never seen a live duel before, so she was actually a little excited at the thought which was mirrored in her eyes opening slightly, being more full than their usual half-open mechanical gaze.</s>
<|description|>Dragan Meszaros Gender: Male Appearance: Stands at a large 6'4. Broad of shoulder and hulking in build. Well-defined muscle, though deeply scarred across his body. Favors furs over silks when outside of his armor. Typically favors massive two-handed weapons, and is most commonly seen wielding a massive flanged mace. Abilities: Dragan primarily utilizes both blood magic and necromancy in tandem, befitting a vampire known as the Death Knight. As a blood mage, Dragan specializes in physical enhancement, preferring to fight in melee with a physical weapon in hand. Of course, he's entirely capable of utilizing the other aspects of blood magic as well, resorting to blood weapons when disarmed and blood barriers to defend against magic. Strangely, though, he has never been seen actually casting a ranged blood spell. As a necromancer, Dragan keeps it simple, traditional, and efficient: zombies, skeletons, and other such more mundane undead with which to drown his foes in a sea of corpses. One will occasionally see larger abominations within his forces, but these are rare and tend to be pre-prepared, with Dragan seemingly unable to raise these at will in the field as he could with groups of lesser undead. Of course, Dragan cannot simply raise armies at will. Without preparation, he tends to be able to create a dozen or so undead soldiers at a time, given enough materials. With the proper rituals and rites, however, Dragan is entirely capable of acts such as raising entire graveyards at once or binding the shambling bones of large creatures into his service. Both of these aspects combined leave this particular vampire as a frontline general, leading undead armies into the thick of battle. Personality: Dragan follows a twisted sense of noblesse oblige in his dealings. To him, vampires are inherently higher life forms as compared to humans, and thus bear responsibility towards them as a result. Humanity in Dragan's eyes are, at the very least, higher than cattle. It would be more accurate to say that he treats mankind as ignorant children: unable to fend for themselves or make wise decisions. Thus, vampires are to safeguard humanity within their borders, and for this service, deserve the blood they require to survive. After all, this was simply the feudal contract as existed in eras past. Only now with more worthy lords to rule over man. As a follower of noblesse oblige, Dragan strives to be as great as he can in his personal conduct. He conducts himself with elegance and decorum. However, this is also matched with a penchant for violence and direct action. Where other vampires prefer subtle manipulations and secrecy, Dragan simply strides through problems with a suit of hulking plate armor, a massive weapon, and an undead horde at his back. He is a lord, after all, and lords do not skulk like cowards when their authority is challenged. In regards to the Goddess, Dragan is a loyal enough follower that he swears to fulfill his divine mission without complaint. Having served the Queen once already, he sees little issue with working to bring her back. Bio: The vampire lord known as Dragan Meszaros, the dreaded Death Knight of eras past, was once known as the crusade's greatest shame. Born as an orphan ward of some irrelevant church of a now-dead god, Dragan grew to be a paladin of the same church, setting out on quests throughout the land. He slew monsters, saved the innocent, and championed the light of his god. Despite his successes, however, Dragan slipped ever into deeper frustration and melancholy as he saw the same stories happen time and time again. Men create problems for themselves that he had to solve for them. Tragedies and villians were created through human sins. The apathy, greed, and wrath of humanity were greater foes than any mere monster that had ever stood in his path. Men were ever more incapable of managing themselves. Dragan's final days as a paladin were spent chasing the rumors of a vampire in a great duchy of a now-forgotten kingdom. When he arrived, however, every value he held was challenged. The duke was a vain tyrant, working his people past the breaking point and abusing the fruits of their labor to glorify himself. The commoners barely cared about this vampire in the territory: a few deaths a month barely compared to the starving masses. In fact, when Dragan did finally track the vampire's thralls down to an outlying village, he saw something there that broke him. The people in that village, the vampire's cattle, were doing far better compared to the rest of the duchy. Better fed, working for themselves, and just...happier. It was then that Dragan knew his truth: man was inherently unable to rule itself. Left to its own devices, humanity would eat itself alive. Dragan gave up. He fell. Returning to the duchy's capital, the once-vaunted paladin launched a brazen assault on the duke in broad daylight, slaughtering him and his meager guard. Afterwards, Dragan returned to the vampire's village, throwing the unworthy ruler's head into the middle of the town square. With the vampire's attention piqued, Dragan knelt before him, stating that he had seen the true light. Bemused at the thought of taking a fallen paladin as Ichor's child, the vampire turned Dragan. After a period of time adjusting to his new existence and learning all he could of vampirism, Dragan took his leave, setting out on his own with his patron's blessing. Centuries later, the vampire known as the Death Knight scourged the land, conquering a kingdom with his undead army in the name of the Queen. He sought to replace the incompetent rule of man with his own benevolent tyranny. But this was not to be. Not in this era. Such a public, reviled monster was one of the first targets of the Hundred Paladins, made more urgent by the shame that he was once a paladin himself. While the bulk of the Hundred tore through his armies with their silver swords and divine blessings, their strongest champions engaged Dragan himself and laid him low. The Death Knight was shattered with his kingdom, his dreams dashed as the Hundred moved on.</s> <|message|>Dragan Meszaros Dragan Meszaros Dragan had removed his helmet as he made his way back up, graciously accepting the villagers' cowed thanks. There was no point in being angry at the ignorant. Human peasants didn't know better, especially in this dark age. Of course they would be suspicious of armed strangers. So with that in mind, he simply smiled and nodded as he returned to the village headman. After Giles spoke, Dragan favored him with a single nod before beginning to explain. "The beastmen have been driven back. As your villagers will attest, they are either slaughtered or in full retreat. However, you have another problem." This time, the vampire lord gave Giles a hard stare. While he doubted the headman was aware of what exactly had been going on underground, he still had to impart the gravity of the situation upon him. "Were you aware that someone among you has been experimenting on captured beastmen? He'd had a specimen in his chambers that I put out of its misery. Moreover, I suspect the breach originated from that building. I can take you to it, and then you can point out exactly who occupies it. Whomever it is has brought these raids upon your village, be it inadvertently or otherwise."</s> <|message|>Aleksiya Ravennart, also known as Ice Princess Aleksiya, or the Rime-Winged Vermilion Angel "It was an atrocious scene, to be sure," commented Aleksiya, cocking her head back with a smirk on her lips, "Whoever was responsible surely seems to be a depraved sort. But you wouldn't have any idea, would you?" Of course, she didn't expect he was actually involved. But at the same time, it was hardly a poor idea to prod him towards divulging any guesses. He had the most experience with the people around here, so even if he didn't have any idea who did it specifically it was possible that he had a guess. Still, she had another goal in mind. Stepping away from her fellow lord, the diminutive vampire approached the nearest of the beast corpses. Perhaps, if there was traces of the force that caused this... Extending one small, pale hand, she reached into the creature's lost blood, splattered across the ground. It began to vibrate, the puddling ichor responding to her power. It was vile, distasteful, but even blood of such grotesque nature could offer information. She just had to see if it was there. Landshark@Rune_Alchemist</s> <|message|>The Queen Location: Human Village Landshark@VitaVitaAR --- "I beg your pardon, sir? Show me, immediately." Giles demanded, frowning deeply at the statements Dragan was making. How could…why would someone do such a thing? He couldn't fathom it, let alone someone among the villagers. Certainly some had thought that capturing and training or studying them was a good idea, but he had always refused. Too dangerous. Had someone gone against his orders? However, when he was taken to the scene, all he could do was sigh. "...So that's how it is." He'd grumble. "This building was unoccupied, until very recently you see." He'd hold a hand to his mouth, quietly stifling a gag as he'd observe the scene. "Quite a dreadful scene…ugh, anyways," He'd glance towards Dragan. "Three travelers arrived some time ago. Asked if they could stay. We had no reason to refuse. A man and two women. Two dressed like they had come right out of the old world, and the third claimed to be a traveling scholar and alchemist, though her manner of dress was much more…shall we say, old." He'd frown. "She made an effort to inform everyone she was just traveling with them for a mutual deal for now, but the other two claimed to be from something called the 'Ithica Society'. They left for that damned city some days ago now. The alchemist left a few days before them, into the forest." Aleksiya's own investigation however, would not go unfruitful. It was faint. Diluted. Horribly so. To call it the blood of a prestigious vampire lord was laughable…but she could feel it. Something familiar. Something ever so faintly familiar. A feeling of animalistic vigor…but also irritation and anger. An almost feral rage at…something. There was no mistaking it. Kordelia…but what was she so angry at, and was she doing this on purpose if she was still alive? Location: Human Village, Riverside @Click This@Asuras --- The gorebat chirped, a bit annoyed it couldn't eat the human and was forbidden from snacks, but it did as it was told, swooping off into the darkness. "Hmph, any gods that do exist aren't ones I'd want to-Weh!?" Julene shouted, not expecting the woman to just pick her up so easily. She'd struggle only briefly. "Y-you put me down! This instant you hear me!" But alas, her pleas fell on deaf ears as Akyasha would refuse to do so. "Tch, fine. Whatever you fake nun, fine! Thata way." Julene's directions would soon enough lead them towards a surprisingly well kept and reinforced home, from the looks of all the others. The walls had all been reinforced, remade, and several walls had obviously been replaced. The first floor had even been expanded quite a bit, to make room for an indoor forge as well as a general workshop it seemed. The second floor had well, been completely removed. One of the walls completely knocked out, a ladder leading up to the roof with several platforms along the way stocked with barrels and also what seemed to be toher supplies. Intentionally done, perhaps? "You can put me down now." She'd huff, and if Akyasha didn't drop her, she'd give the nun a whack on the top of her head until she did. "Here. Workshop takes up most of the place…ah? Another one?" This was about the time Luna would walk up on the trio, earning an exasperated sigh from the Blacksmith. "...I ain't even surprised anymore. Whatever." Location: Forest of Beasts Paladin --- The woman, did not respond. She'd keep writing into the small book she was writing in for a few long, awkward seconds after Argus responded. It was only after these few long seconds, that she'd turn around, and immediately set eyes on the pirate. "Moons tears!" She'd shout, jumping back a few feet and bumping into the table and causing the glassware to rattle. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to sneak up on someone? They might turn you into a toad!" She'd close the journal she was carrying, stuffing it into her tattered robes. Now that he could get a good look at the woman in question, she was…well, she fit right in with these woods. Short, shoulder length messy brown hair with yellow eyes with more baggage than an emotional nobleman from the old world. The clothes under them seemed to almost be falling apart at the seams, with just a cloth covering her chest and a small skirt covering her lower body. The cloak though, was the most curious thing. Well taken care of…but it certainly wasn't something she could have made herself. It seemed older. Almost more regal. A bone ring adorned her finger, made out of some sort of small bird skull. "What do you want? I am a busy woman and have no time for idle chatter. If you're heading towards that village in the distance, there's a place you can cross the river not far down that way." She'd huff. "If you're looking for my services…I'm curious as to how you found me all the way out here, but stranger things happen. I don't come cheap as a healer or scholar."</s>
<|message|>Dragan Meszaros Giles's reaction told Dragan all he needed to. The man had no knowledge of what was going on down here. Good. Dragan at least somewhat approved of the man. He was simply trying to keep his own people alive, something that the Death Knight wasn't exactly unfamiliar with. A good man, thrust into a nearly impossible situation. Whatever suspicions the headman had towards him were more than warranted. And likely justified, considering some of the company he traveled in. What he said further was cause for much greater concern, though. The Society? Elena had spied something related to...whatever that organization was, back in the city. Before she'd most likely passed on. This was the second time they'd come across this group, now. Their status in relation to Ichor's brood was still unknown, but whatever they were, they were at least able to pass as human, if what Giles said was any indication. Dragan paused, trying to remember what exactly Elena had said about them, before the memory ran through his head. "These 'Society' people. What were their names? Was either a Rykard or Rhea? Of the three, how did they behave while they were within the village? Moreover, what does your village know of this city, exactly?" He added the last one on as an afterthought. It would be good to know exactly what was said of Alavaris in the centuries that had passed. Judging by what little Giles had said of it already, it would seem prudent to not mention they had come from there originally.</s>
<|description|>Lee Messerschmidt Character Concept, for when you guys post: Identity: Bacon! Origin: Alter Fighting - Good (10) Some training and experience. Agility - Excellent (20) Fairly accurate little bastich. Strength - Good (10) Regular exercise. Endurance - Excellent (20) Human maximum. The power of bacon compels. Reason - Typical (6) Trivia aside, he's just ok. Intuition - Typical (6) Average detail orientation at best. Psyche - Good (10) Somewhat willful and a little stubborn. Appearance: Tall and slender, Bacon! is most easily noticed by the scent of smoked pork, like a very faint cologne. This is permanent. He has dark hair and eyes, and a perpetually goofy smile. His identity, Bacon!, was NOT his idea initially. He was going for a sheath of flame motif with his costume, but being absolutely rotten with color and fashion, it more resembles a strip of warm, meaty bacon. Powers: -Bacon! is very resistant to heat and fire, all but the hottest conditions do him no discomfort. Don't ask him to swim in lava or leap into the bowels of a nuclear reactor, though. He has his limits. -At will, he can smoke profusely. No, I don't mean he's got a nicotine addiction, his body produces lots and lots of pork scented, obscuring smoke. He still hasn't figured out how to avoid the effects of it, himself, but is optimistic. Looks like Richard Pryor when he runs. (too soon?) -At fairly short range, Bacon! can cause items to heat up and/or combust with the ferocity of a commercial oven. He can create an aura around him like this, or concentrate it at one target in his line of sight, up to 30 feet. He usually does so with the battle cry of "Sizzle, bitches!". Talents: -Cooking- particularly charcuterie and barbecue, but overall proficient -Boxing- not amazing, but can handle himself -Trivia- mostly involving movies, but is a safe bet in most game shows about seemingly useless crap that PROBABLY WON'T come up in gameplay. Or not. Contacts: -Officer O'Malley- Stereotypical Irish cop. Friend of the family, supports Bacon!'s career path in heroics -JimBob Dougie- Owner and Proprietor of JimBob's House of Pig Ass. Was present at Bacon!'s accident that made him a Super. Formerly his boss. Background: (To be brief, I'll just go with origin of powers for right now.) There was a horrifying accident involving fatback and the tiny bit of uranium found in smoke detectors. It was keyed off by an errant bolt of lightning while he was holding a non-dairy creamer. Somehow, these components came to create the Almost Hero known as Bacon!, altering him at a genetic level, making him almost indistinguishable from a naturally occuring Metahuman. At first, he took his role seriously as Fire Guy, but repeated jeers from passersby eventually made him go with it rather than get upset. Besides, bacon is awesome, so Bacon! must be, too. NOTE: I know I didn't go for a thorough physical description, but you get the gist. Maybe later on.</s> <|message|>Lee Messerschmidt "You're not going crazy. You're going sane in a crazy world!" –highly underrated superhero But it's wholly accurate. Set aside your concepts of Law, Order, and Not-Badness. You're in The City now. A wondrous place of remarkable culture and beauty, it also seethes with the wriggling decay of Villainy! Yes, friends, that's Villainy, with a capital V! That uncourteous V stares at the good people of The City like a cancerous, multi-eyed monster of subtle and unsubtle naughtiness, making the average Joe the Plumber range from merely uncomfortable to OUTRIGHT TERRIFIED! But all hope is not lost. Seemingly for every group of these perpetrators of unruly brouhaha, there is at least one stalwart Champion of Shiny and Upright Things ready to lead the charge against Un-Good. You, dear Heroes, must lead this charge with head held high. You must be the shield to defend the good people of The City. You must be the hammer to crush malevolence and apathy wherever it rears its septic tendrils. Even the smallest slip can lead to a downward slide to Evil. Even the tiniest indifference can make society fall prey to the ever sneering Villain In Black, twirling his handlebar moustache whilst tying helpless citizens to the railroad track of indecency and terror! You must do whatever you can to promote civil order, no matter how small. Case in point, your first mission: Help an old lady cross the street. Just remember, even the smallest of tasks can open up a wide, new world of adventure. Good luck. *** It's a great summer day here in the city of The City. Partly cloudy, 82 degrees, and everyone's smiling. Well, almost everyone. At the corner of Second and Elm, deep in downtown The City, an elderly lady stands at the crosswalk, peering with myopic eyes across the way, debating upon the wisdom and safety of crossing. There is nothing really spectacular about this lady, at a glance. She wears a long dress with a floral print, and has a fuzzy-looking blue shawl around her shoulders, despite the seasonably comfortable temperature. Sensible shoes cover her feet, and she carries both a purse and a bag of groceries. To put this simply, she looks quite like Betty White, sans all the biker tattoos (her roles in movies have her covered in pancake makeup to preserve her wholesomeish image, fyi). Something does seem a little off, though. I mean, aside from this obviously innocent bluehaired lady being given the brushoff by every passerby on this street. The astute observer may notice three or four people dressed in suit and tie, at random places around this intersection taking particular interest in this scene. They stand quietly, staring, seemingly waiting on something to happen. Scanning the skies above, a red caped hero wrestles a rather large bear midflight, calling "TO ACTION!" as the pair streaks across the street's collective vision, trailing smoke. This event is commonplace enough that it warrants only a quick glance and a continuance of the day. Old lady in need. Creepy generic guys doing nothing. And… Hero Time!</s> <|message|>Elizabeth 'Liz' Haliday Liz watches the hero fly past, wrestling a bear. The real heroes. The ones with the recognition and fame. The role models. The people who every criminal in the city curses the name of, let alone knows. The heroes Liz was striving to be. It was times like this that she didn't envy them. Times like this that she was glad she was an almost-nobody. She didn't fancy wrestling a bear. She's rather talk a scared kid out of mugging someone, or get a cat down from a tree, or... She looked ahead of her, and smiled. Or helping an old lady cross the road. You may not be saving the city, but every act of kindness you do makes you a hero to one person. And really, that's what being a hero is all about. Of course, getting your bills paid is also nice... Excalibat sent Liz a message. The bat didn't speak, as such, and it wasn't exactly telepathy as the bat didn't have a brain. Still, it communicated with her. The bat said "Have you noticed the Agent Smith lookalikes?" Liz as a matter of fact hadn't, and found it a tiny bit odd, but didn't pay any more mind to it. "It's probably just a bunch of business people or something," she sent back to Excalibat, but even as she did, she had her doubts about it. It sounded slightly more suspicious when she thought it. Everybody had been ignoring the old lady in need because of the spectacle ahead. Nice job breaking it, hero. She turned her bitterness at the crowd into smugness that she was being a better hero than Mr. Whatshisface in this regard, at least. Beamer approached the old lady, smiling. "Would you like any help?"</s> <|message|>Lee Messerschmidt The elder lady turns and squints at Beamer, smiles, motions for you to come closer. With a gentle Irish accent, she croons cheerfully, "You're one of those Imperial Fish & Chippers, aren't you? Oh, don't look so surprised. I suppose you'll do, as long as your eyesight's better than mine, missy. At least you're not one of those bothersome Supers..." As you join your walking partner, the Smiths each take a step forward simultaneously, notice you've made them, and each look in a different direction. One even whistles with forced nonchalance. Game on.</s> <|message|>Elizabeth 'Liz' Haliday Liz laughs nervously. It's clear from her accent that she's from the Midlands of England, so she's most likely as fond of London as the old lady is. "Actually I am on my gap year from U.W.E. How could you tell? It was the cricket bat, wasn't it?" 'I have a name, you know,' Excalibat messaged her. Liz ignored it. "And I'm with you on the supers. All they care about is making the papers with 'heroics'. They don't care about the little people anymore. These days, they wouldn't even get a cat out a tree if there wasn't a camera nearby." 'Starting to get really bad feelings about the Men in Black' Excalibat messaged Liz. She glanced at them all. The bat was right. Their behaviour was unusual. She had best be on her guard.</s>
<|message|>Lee Messerschmidt "Well," began the hopefully itinerant street-crosser, "I'm headed to the bank, and then back home. If you can help me there, I can catch a cab back. It's only three blocks down." She smiles, and takes a tentative step forward. "I'm Maddie. You're a sweet one, for a Brit. Help me out and I'll make sure you get something for your trouble." Maddie seems oblivious to the suited men, but you are not. For every step into the intersection, they move a tiny bit closer. The nonchalant whistler is in easiest view, trying hard not to look like he's paying attention to the two of you and your pedestrianry. Something seems the slightest bit off about him, though: the tune he's whistling seems to be the same five notes, over and over, without so much as the slightest variation nor pause for breath. Additionally, his gait looks a bit jerky. At the middle of the intersection, pretense is dropped. Whistler sprints forward and throws a very basic straight punch at your face. Excalibat offers an instantaneous warning, allowing you to block the incoming, though this does little to make you feel better about the other two trying to flank. You're outnumbered, in the middle of a city street, with a charge to protect. A girl could use friends about now.</s>
<|description|>Saddaj Dakoren Basic Information Tier: Moderate Powers Age: 33 Titles: Desert Wanderer (prefix, replacing surname - Desert Wanderer Saddaj) Gender: Male Race: Human Occupation: Traveller, Shaman Height: 5'9" Weight: 167lbs - mostly muscle Build: Medium (athletic) Skin tone: Dark Eye colour: Brown Hair: Deep black, shaven almost completely Details and Background Information The Ashen Steppes Saddaj lives and lives off the Ashen Steppes, a vast desert on the southern borders of the Ellorien Empire. It would have been conquered long ago, were it not for the desert's grim reputation. Whenever other armies have attempted to conquer it, mysterious sandstorms have struck them, usually within the first day, with the entire army missing when the storm has cleared. Wise travellers in the Steppes know to respect the desert, and make material sacrifices to it, for it is powerful, and those who take without giving will not survive their journey. Aside from the harshness of any desert and the literal harshness of the Steppes, there is more for travellers there to be wary of. The desert is home to many dangerous creatures, both mundane and magical, that would have little difficulty killing those who fail to pay attention, think carefully or react quickly. Any of these would be easy in other circumstances, but at the end of a day spent walking through incredible heat, with a parched throat and blinded eyes? That is a true challenge. The people of the Steppes are resourceful and independent, but have no trouble relying on others when necessary. Generations of time spent in one of the harshest climates in many worlds has taught them they will often rely on each other, but there will be times when there will be no one able to help them. Strangers to their lands suffer no mistrust - if they've made it this far, they mean the land no harm and they have the skills to be helpful. However, no stranger can expect simple charity. You do not get help from the people of the Steppes if you are unable or unwilling to work for it. Resources are scarce, and if can't earn your keep you don't get your keep. No questions, no discussions, that's it. There is no law and no central government in the Steppes. Law is not necessary, because anyone who would commit a crime finds themselves without food, water, or shelter. If someone ever does commit a crime (which is not clearly defined anywhere), there is only one method of trial - trial by ordeal. The criminal spends three days outside human settlements and caravans, with no help from anyone and a tattoo on his forehead to mark him. If he returns alive, the tattoo is removed through strange "desert magic" (more on this later). If he does not, the tattoo becomes permanent, or he is dead. Though it is rare, it is not entirely unknown for a criminal, consumed by guilt, not to return even if he can, as a self-inflicted punishment. There are only a few permanent settlements in the Steppes, all of which are centered around Oases. These are the only reliable supplies of water in the Steppes, so they are the only places you can make a permanent settlement in the Steppes. One of these, Tal Djirad, is much larger than the rest and the only one you could really call a city. Though there is no capital of the Steppes, this is close enough for most people. Bands of nomadic traders also travel the Steppes and surrounding areas, surviving through the movement of goods. In "civilised" areas, including the border of the Ellorien, they pick up materials that cannot be easily gathered in the desert, primarily basic metals such as iron and copper, and trade it for exotic skins and artwork made in the Steppes. Monster hunters in particular can make a fortune from the Steppes, though they must be particularly generous with their sacrifices to get away with this. Magic of the Steppes There is an old, mysterious form of magic that comes from the Ashen Steppes. Certain Ellorien scholars suggest this has something to do with the desert's supposed consciousness, and the almost religious way its people treat it. Though the idea that a desert could be self-aware is dismissed by most, those few who agree are correct. Every one of the nomadic groups that travel the Steppes have a Shaman, as do all the permanent settlements. Tal Djirad even has multiple. It is the Shaman's job to brand criminals, to predict sandstorms, and to protect against dangerous creatures. They wield a form of magic that is unclassified by the Ellorien (where definitions of the Books of Magic come from). Initially, Ellorien authorities even denied its existence, but there have been too many reports to maintain this any longer. The truth is, they are scared. The Ellorien's effectiveness is legendary, but no army has even gotten close to capturing the Steppes. If the Steppes decides it has a problem with the Ellorien, there'll be little to do but surrender, if the Steppes will accept even that. Saddaj - Psychological Description One of the most prominent features of Saddaj's personality is his devotion to the Ashen Steppes. Just as with most Desert Shamans, the Steppes are to him what a god is to his clerics. However, most Desert Shamans have a caravan or settlment both to protect and to rely on, Saddaj has neither. Saddaj's relationship with the Steppes is much more personal, as it is rare he speaks to anyone human, but he communes with the Steppes twice daily at least, more when in danger. He feels guilt for leaving his home, something the Steppes cannot understand. Saddaj - Brief History Saddaj had a strange connection to the desert ever since he was a child. He found little comfort around humans, and preferred solitude. He spent a lot of his spare time (which wasn't much - in the Steppes, you work or you leave) alone in the desert surrounding the settlement of Tal Sara, where he lived. While Shamans often displayed similar characteristics during their childhood, these were especially... severe. Many of the current Shamans expected actions of great significance to take place in Saddaj's life, though whether for better or for worse was not yet clear. As Saddaj grew up, his Shamanic training began. Needless to say it went very well, his natural talent in the magic was truly unique. For these years of his life, Saddaj was happy, though it was doomed to end badly. On one of Saddaj's last days as a boy, a horrible sandstorm swept through Tal Sara. In truth, no one but the eldest Shamans in Tal Djirad had ever seen one like it, or would ever again. Saddaj, who had been going through his final training at the time, felt a voice speak to him, coming through the wind. It claimed to be the conciousness of the Ashen Steppes. It told him of how it had felt its enemies' hatred, as well as their strength, growing. Of how it had created him as a warrior to destroy them should they dare to challenge it once again. Of how it was now his turn to fight. It told him to kill his teacher to prove it could trust him. He did. In doing so, Saddaj confined himself to a life wandering through the desert, speaking to no one living inside its borders. The desert sustained him, and made sure he would never give up. He even tried to end his own life once, the desert wouldn't allow it. So he walked. He walked until his feet were bleeding as the sun was setting over the cruel bright hills in the South. Arena Information Weapons and Gear * Ancestral Spear-Stave - Saddaj's weapon is a spear-stave from the Dakoren familial tomb. Saddaj comes from a long line of great warriors, and is skilled at using the spear-stave in both short-hand (holding the stave close to the head, in one hand) and long-hand (holding it near the blunt end, with both hands) techniques, as well as being able to swiftly transition between the two. Saddaj prefers to use the stave as a defensive tool in long-hand, but attack with short-hand. It is enchanted so that it may release a strong gust of wind. This is enough to stagger, but not knock down, an approximately human-sized opponent. There is no limit to the number of times it can be used, but there is to how often. Ten to twenty seconds are usually required between each use. * Desert Clothing - This is unarmoured, unenchanted mundane clothing. It has no particular use besides protection from sunburn and blindness. It can be used to hide Saddaj's face when necessary. Skills and Special Abilities * Desert Magic (Weather Control) - Using his Shamanic talents, Saddaj is able to change the weather to his liking, even regardless of the time of year or day (yes, he can make it blindingly sunny in the middle of the winter at midnight). While this rarely has a significant effect on a battle, he can use it to make a battlefield more like his home ground, and it could certainly have an effect against strange creatures such as vampires, or fire elementals, for whom particular forms of weather can be debilitating if not fatal. * Desert Magic (Sandstorm) - This spell allows Saddaj to create powerful gusts of wind while summoning a cloud of dust, and maintain this so that in a wide radius it is very difficult to see, and creatures without protection may suffer from having sand get into their eyes mouth, or other orifices. While these happenings may seem trivial, a loss of focus in a battle can be devestating. * Desert Magic (Transmution and Manipulation) - Some of Saddaj's most powerful magic, he is able to transmute any kind of stone or brick into sand. Besides the potential to remove structural integrity, causing landslides, Saddaj's other ability described here works remarkably with it. He is also able top telekinetically move up to several cubic metres of sand at once. The potential for this is varied, but when a smaller contact point means more pressure, how much damage could a fast-moving object deal, when it is the size of a grain of sand?</s> <|message|>Chinoki Chinoki groaned has she took the hit but we rebounded by quickly placing her hands and the spear and lifts herself up so she was balancing on it. She looks over at him and giggles before pushing herself off and throwing one of her knives at his neckm she lands to the right of him and quickly slashes at his shoulder and hand hoping to wound him enough that he would not be able to use that arm. She groans at the pain in her stomach area where he hit her.</s> <|message|>Saddaj Dakoren Saddaj was glad when he finally managed to hit the woman, even more so that his risk had paid off. He had stabbbed her around her stomach, hopefully the pain would slow her down a little. He reacted quickly to the thrown knife, ducking under what could have been a fatal attack. However, while he was righting himself the woman created a deep wound across his bicep. It was painful, but he got his spear-stave into his left hand, in a short-hand position, before it fully settled in. He couldn't be expecting to use that arm for much in the near future. Being right-handed, Saddaj's ability with his spear-stave was diminished, though he had trained for situations like these and was highly skilled even now. Still, he'd prefer to keep his distance and focus on ranged attacks. He retreated a few steps, then all at once the sandstorm froze and drew in to a cloud above his head. He formed it into a column and blasted it towards his opponent. A direct hit with the rough sand would be horribly painful for her, unbalancing her and potentially knocking her off her feet, while ripping her skin all over. While Saddaj knew she might dodge it, the potential of the attack was too high to ignore.</s> <|message|>Chinoki Chinoki growls and jumps up to dodge his attack but ends up timing it wrong causing her left foot to take a hit. She lands on the ground and groans but she lets out a small giggle at the same time, "Okay let's what you van do about this!" She then summons a bunch of knives and begins throwing then at multiple different soft spots. By doing this she was hoping that she could distract herself from the pain and inflict pain on him.</s> <|message|>Saddaj Dakoren The woman had been hit - not badly, but Saddan would take it. However, she was now throwing a flurry of knives at him. Too many to be particularly accurate, yes, but enough that even without presicion they posed a threat. It was now that Saddaj was thankful for the enchantment placed upon his spear-stave. He could let loose a short-lived but powerful gust of wind. Typically he would use this to unbalance opponents before performing the coup de grâce that would finish them off. This time, though, he had a different use for it. He thrusted the spear-stave, in his left hand, forwards towards the knives. The wind blasted a few a short distance backwards, but most were not caught head-on by the gust due to their spread. These were instead knocked off-course, some being pushed downwards, to the left or right, and many were knocked upwards, flying over Saddaj's head.</s> <|message|>Chinoki Chinoki growls limping slightly trying to figure iut something that would work. Sge just need to get a few fatal hits. Once she came up with something she bit down on her teeth before summoning three or four new knives. She rushes towards him at half her normal speed because of her foot and stabs him with one knife in his leg before running around behid him and stabbing him in between his neck and shoulder hoping that he wont block and dodge one of her attacks. This was a risky move because of her foot and how careless her movements probably was.</s>
<|message|>Saddaj Dakoren With one arm out of action, Saddaj's main form of defense had been broken. He was losing blood - and his consciousness. If he didn't end this fight now... too slow. He had lost focus, and recieved another wound in his leg. Making an effort to concentrate, he lifted the sand he'd attacked the woman with earlier and, while turning to face his assailant, created something of a shield to block the knife attack. He expected it was risky, but he tried to plug his wounds with the remaining sand, to prevent further blood loss. He'd never heard of someone being hurt by sand in a wound, and he hoped there was a good reason for it. The attack deterred and the blood loss stopped, Saddaj had bought himself a split second to sharpen his thoughts. Even now, it was only a matter of time before he would be defeated. Only careless agression, something completely uncharacteristic of Saddaj, would save him, and he knew it. So he used his split second the only way he could afford to - he ignored his pain, gripped his spear-stave in both hands and dropped the shield. He stepped forwards, raised the spear-stave high and brought it diagonally downwards towards the right side (Chinoki's right) of his enemy's neck. It was an all-or-nothing move that would, if perfectly executed, cut through her trachea, causing rapid asphyxiation. If not, he would be leaving himself wide open to her own, potentially fatal, attack.</s>
<|description|>Yukimura Noriko * Magical Girl Title: The Ripper. Being far from the most cheerful of magical girl names, you have to wonder why Noriko has something so blatantly angst-ridden. The answer? Having no naming sense whatsoever and cheerfully picking up the first thing the fan community called her because of all the knives. It's a vast improvement over "The Girl That Stabs Things With Sharp Knives", even if she has little idea what it could possibly by referencing. * Age: 18 * Gender: Female * Appearance: * Magical Girl Appearance: * Personality: 'Magical girl fangirl' would not be the first choice for a traditional girl's hobby and yet, in Noriko's case, it very much is--or as much as you can be without going on the internet and taking part there. She receives every magazine that she can get a subscription to and follows them religiously, even though she occasionally makes appearances herself nowadays. It would be accurate to say that she has a deep appreciation for magical girls and their work but such a description is only accurate for her childhood. She really likes magical girls. That being a magical girl allows her to get close to her idols and try to befriend them is an amazing opportunity that Noriko can't pass up. That being a magical girl means her identity is an unknown is even better. It means being able to act without having to keep to her upbringing every second of the day--and it exposes her vast enthusiasm for both her tasks and the girls around her. Yet she's still awkward about trying to get to know people and worries about her identity being exposed--which would mean a return to acting properly. Outside of being a magical girl, Noriko tends to be polite but rather distant. Not only does she have little idea how to go about making friends with someone of her own age, her upbringing has left her with few common interests with the majority of people that she meets. She's actually rather shy when not hidden by being a magical girl. * Skills: Noriko's skills are conspicuously lacking in a large variety of everyday matters even despite her age. Her cooking skills don't even reach the point of being able to make tea normally and those rare attempts she makes at something as simple as rice tends to lead to abject failure, not least because of her incompetence with technological innovations of any kind. Her skill there looks like it should belong to a rural centenarian, with anything more complicated than 'make phone call' or 'turn on television' going badly. Conversely, her traditional skills are far better than the norm. For all her inability to not burn tea on a day to day basis, the white-haired girl can perform tea ceremonies flawlessly. If it has some element of ceremony or art about it, even her handwriting, Noriko tends to be as accomplished as she is technologically hopeless. Helpfully for a career as a magical girl, and a likely influence on why her abilities are so simple, is that her list of traditional skills include such things as being able to defend herself proactively. Such as by attacking someone with a sword. Or by punching them until they can't hurt her in return. Rather than any one style, Noriko is actually schooled in several different methods of fighting unarmed and a scale of how to use swords from 'I have a knife' up to 'am I supposed to be cutting through horses?' and 'I only have a stick'. Though mostly directly irrelevant to operating as a Magical Girl, it gave her a leg up on most new magical girls by actually having trained reflexes and an awareness for combat before being thrown in at the deep end. * Abilities: Anyone discovering Noriko for the first time is bound to expect some sort of herculean magical girl, provided they don't recognise the reference. These people are often surprised to learn that she's perhaps in the running for the most physically meagre magical girl, as she doesn't receive any sort of enhancement to her strength. What gets boosted abnormally is her speed, allowing her to get in, make a single wound, and get out again. There's a limited effectiveness in inflicting a death of a thousand cuts, which is why Noriko is rather thankful that the speed is just a vector for the application of her real ability. She has the ability to pinpoint physical weak points. In doing so, it gives her the ability to severely cripple or even outright enemies if she can land her blow correctly. It was this surgical precision that lead her first followers to compare her use of knives to a famous murderer, despite her friendly attitude. Though only she can actually see the exact point and exploit it to maximum effect, it's still a physical weakness. Anyone that knows roughly wear to hit can take advantage of their attacks not being so easily dismissed, which makes Noriko a valuable ally even in battles against something too large for her knives to have a major impact. It is, perhaps, for the best that Noriko doesn't have a true finishing move because of her total inability to come up with a good name for even her ability to see weak points. When it has to be given a name in fact sheets, she picked "Knowing Where Things Break More When Stabbed". * Weapon(s): Knives. Noriko didn't actually name them given that she has no limit on the number that can be pulled out and you could buy their kind anywhere in Japan. They're remarkably well balanced, suitable for stabbing, cutting, or even throwing as the situation arises. On the downside... well, knives. They have no special abilities like other magical weapons might possess nor much reach. Combined with her lack of any method for hitting harder, tough opponents can ignore almost all attacks Noriko might conceivably make until she discerns their weakness and manages to strike it. * Brief History: Being born the only child of an old and wealthy family is no insurance against poor health, as Noriko found out. From infancy, the girl spent more time actively sick than capable of causing problems in the normal vein of young children. On its own, no amount of advanced medicine seemed to improve her condition and her parents took the opposite approach: aside from the medicine itself, limit her contact with modern life and cities. She was consequently sent to be raised by her grandparents in the country, a household as untouched by technological advance as possible in this day and age. Though her health was generally improved out here, enough that Noriko could start to learn the martial arts that had been passed down through the years, it was still marked by enough illness that her attendance at school was spotty and her time spent with her peers quite limited--they didn't even have similar interests, after all. But she enjoyed the surroundings and over time her health improved to the point that, after Junior High, her parents decided to send her to a selective high school in Umitori. In her first year back in a city, Noriko's health began to decline once again and her lack of socialisation made it difficult for her to form friendships, especially as she started taking time off for illness. At the beginning of her second year, she was home ill once again--missing the beginning of year and even what class she was to be in--when she received an unexpected visitor: a fairy. The disgruntled girl offered her a simple trade: Noriko would become a magical girl and in the process her health problems would be corrected, or at least suspended indefinitely. Simply not being ill was an alluring choice, but to be able to make friends with the magical girls in her magazines without her previous illness casting a cloud over things and get another chance to make a first impression... Noriko took the fairy up in it in a heartbeat, though even now she has yet to make any close friends this way but that's not going to stop the rich girl from trying her best as more and more magical girls are created. + Fairy Name: Hawthorne + Fairy Appearance: Such a fancily dressed fairy. + Fairy Personality: Hawthorne is quite... unfriendly for a fairy, and concerned only with her partner being the best magical girl possible, regardless of what this requires her to do. For instance, she specifically sought out someone in Noriko's situation, that would have no reason to turn her down and as many reasons to fulfil her assigned task as possible. In this, she's a very good support so long as Noriko has some desire to keep performing as a magical girl. If she were to give up on making friends this way, then she would have to get... creative. Even arranging a false friendship would be an acceptable step to Hawthorne. * Theme Song:</s> <|message|>Kasamatsu Hana Hana came out of hiding after the creature was dead for... the second time? Would there be a third time? She didn't really know. The appearance of the newly arrived didn't impress her very much. She seemed to enjoy overeating, so Hana knew they wouldn't get along very well. Better off just ignoring her. When she turned she saw a magical girl walking away from the battle. "As expected of Copenhagen Star." Hana uttered, though she didn't know why. The school girl found her shoes, but was unimpressed with their condition. The monster goop would be easy enough to wash away, but the singed leather from the mouthy magical girl's attack was something she was less willing to forgive. Oh well, at least she could wear them. Hana slid her feet inside of her shoes. It was a lot moister than she would have liked, but it was better than being barefoot or eaten. The shoes would be a much easier story to tell her mother. But Hana wasn't quite ready to walk away from this yet. She had something else to do. "Shooting star?" Was that her name? Hana was so bad with the names of magical girls. Hana walked closer to the magical girl. Man this was awkward, but it was something she wanted to do. "Thank you."</s> <|message|>+ Katsuragi Risa ~RISA~ "Hmm... Alright... let's see..." Risa hummed as she pulled out her personal digital device... Which is a smartphone... And looked up some maps... "Right... We've got a KFC bout a five minute walk away... A mini stop that's seven minutes walk and the one I personally prefer, a local yakitori that's a bit of a walk at twelve minutes..." Risa finished... At this even Marza has stopped even thinking about annoying her partner at the mention of the possibility of doing something more enjoyable... Eating... "Of course that's time to arrive if we walk there normally... I'd lend you a bike if you want..." At this Lisa came up from the group checking the people who were unfortunate enough to experience being inside the jelly blob... "Yo! Ris... People looks good'n fine..." "Yes I know... Remember the primary over there?" Risa replied as she points at her primary split, which she had wear a very unimpressed look... "I wouldn't be surprised she forgot... She's you after all..." Marza cut in... "... You know what... nevermind, good job to all of ye... Now all secondaries except Lisa, go get... Re-absorbed!? into the Primary" "Ya know, you really should think of something else to call that... I'd vote demobilizing... since we've got the military vibe anyways with us being collectively known as 'The Major' anyways..." Lisa suggested... "Good... We'll use that... If I can remember it..." At this Marza had a snort as Risa just confirmed her own forgetfulness... "Anyways..." Risa turned back to the Ripper... "Sorry about that, self organization and coherency is not exactly my strong point... So how's about it... I'd come with, whichever you choose..." "Are you asking her out to dinner?" Marza asked slightly surprised... "Well it beat's the alternative... It's either talking to myself and what used to be a mythical being you'd find in fairy tales or her... I'd rather take the option that does not result in me going clinically insane..." --- Deployed: 12 down to 4 Primaries: 3 * One as default commander on the field. * Two to stay at home and generally keep it occupied. * Three to be a backup commander on the field... Secondaries: 8 to 0 * Currently being "de-mobilized" after checking up on a number of the negari's victims... Special: 1 * Lisa... a slightly more thoughtful version of Risa apparently</s>
<|message|>Yukimura Noriko Magical Girl "The Ripper" Of course, her dinner plans had to be interrupted for a few minutes by the arrival of two other well-known magical girl--though for Shiroyuri to have started working with Teacup Saori was quite the unusual discovery. Mostly, people seemed to work well enough on their own, even if there was a lot of overlapping coverage right about now... "I do not have the abilities to finish off such a large negari on my own, Shiori-senpai, and as I can ascertain weak points on any item I cannot determine its state of life or death. That was how we met the first time," the white-haired girl said brightly, apparently not too bothered about being belittled like that, "But with more than four of us here, we would have been successful despite any setback." Then it was back to the Major, to ask the most important question: "Ah, the yakitori sounds nice," and would make a change from the mass-produced fare, "Though... I hope there is only one of you coming?"</s>
<|description|>Her birth name is Violet, but at age 2 her name was legally changed to Shion in respect to her just deceased great-grandmother. Age (Magical Girl): 15 Age (Before Magical Girl): 22 Gender: Girl Gender (Before Magical Girl): Girl Appearance: Unlike many Magical Girls, her transformed body is no different physically than her normal body. She personally cannot understand how a simple clothes change into a school uniform is able to mask her identity so effectively. With light brown hair and eyes of a slightly darker shade, Violet stands at 5 foot 4 inches. (1.6 meters) Despite her slightly visible musculature from her above-average fitness, she is somewhat underweight at 105 pounds. (47.6 Kilograms)</s> <|message|>Tonya "Mac" Murphy Binky was screaming the entire time, totally unaware of any damage they had sustained or even that a shift had happened. It wasn't until the fear aura went away that they finally quieted down. This was when she became aware of everything that happened to her body while she was running scared. Namely the bruises from falling into a rose bush, and all of the scrapes and cuts the thorns gave her when she attempted to leave. Her legs felt like they were on fire, and she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. Her attention then shifted to her surroundings. They appeared to have been teleported into an old fairytale. The checkerboard floor and oddly colored sky were reminiscent of the sequel to Alice in Wonderland: Through the Looking Glass. But Binky was a researcher of magic. As soon as her thoughts cleared, it became obvious what had happened. This was the over city. Someone had transported all of the magical girls, the people inside the cathedral, and the cathedral itself to the overcity. "But... Why?" There was no point to shifting a fight to the over city if you were going to take the battlefield with you. Most magical girls used it as a means of minimizing damage to real world structures. Who in their right mind would willingly do that? The only thing they managed to do was destroy a poor old cathedral that was no longer sitting on it's foundation. Of course Binky wasn't complaining. There were no more cats. That made her situation a lot better. But as a researcher, she did have to wonder what the real tactical advantage of this entire shift was. Someone might had done it to protect her. One of the girls had tried to pull her to safety. Even so, this all seemed a bit too convoluted to really involve her. Beacon was here, witches were here, other magical girls were here, the Vixen of Penrose was He- "WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Knowing there was a magical mass murderer here sent Binky screaming out of her mind. She ran across the dreamscape, eyes shut and arms held high over her head. "AAHHHHHHHH! At least I don't have to worry about the detective anymore AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" But she would trip over her own tired feet and fall on her stomach. Binky looked over her shoulder, only to see the detective walking up to her side. "You're not going to out run anybody. I'll save you the explanation of the evidence and just hope you trust me." Sammy spun on her heel and looked back towards the cathedral. "A destructive lot these Beacon girls. I can't say I'm too surprised though, given my recent observations. No different than true monsters rallying under a symbol of hope." She took a step towards the cathedral, or was it the Vixen? "Regardless, it's always up to the detective to save the day, isn't it? Villains aren't captured by lawyers or judges. Nothing would happen in a courtroom without evidence provided by a detective." Sammy was dwarfed by virtually everyone else in the area. The height of the cathedral didn't make her form any more imposing either. To anyone standing up there, she might have looked like a little black spec shouting into the wind. --- Age: 24/11 | Gender: Female/Female | Illusion, Gravity Body | Power of Friendship, Regeneration, Third Eye | Moirai Coercion, Soul Jar, Martial Training, True Sight, Parasite, Gifted, Awareness, Mystic Artifact Magical Overload, Paragon, Blessing, Gifted Item | Monster Form, Big Brother, Arrogance, Vendetta Redirected Magic, Second Specialization | Non-Standard Limbs, Destroyer STR: 05 | AGI: 04 | VIT: 05 | MAG: 03 | LCK: 03 STR: 10 | AGI: 08 | VIT: 11 | MAG: 17 | LCK: 05 Earnings this post: Zilch Total: 2 Gold, 95 Silver, 96 Bronze Getting taken to the overcity was not among Mac's favorite experiences. It wasn't like she had the means to easily traverse in and out of this second reality, so there was always the chance that things could end poorly should she not get taken back. That said, it wasn't like this blindsided her. Mac always knew what was going to happen, or at least what was suppose to happen, and she was always there to ensure it went just as it was ordained. Even if that meant doing damage to an irreplaceable cathedral. How quaint for it to be the work of Beacon rather than monsters. Whatever, she just had to keep Binky from croaking. Part of her wanted to just reveal herself and punch Summer's stupid face in, but that would upset her patron. She supressed a growl and continued to assist with the witches' removal.</s> <|message|>Alicia Hayden Needless to say, Alicia was not expecting the snap to the Overcity that happened all of a sudden. A growl of annoyance bubbled up inside of her, only to be squashed as she settled for sighing and rubbing her nose with only a slight grinding of teeth. Calm, she needed to stay calm. There was no telling why Summer had chosen to shift them now rather than earlier when it might have been needed, but she shouldn't judge her. She was a new recruit after all, and anyone could make a mistake. They would just have to talk about this bak at HQ. Even if bringing the Cathedral too was a bit overkill. The witches continued to go down, two burning to death while she was successful in putting down a third with her bow. Glancing over, she could only watch as someone was changed into an animal by the witch, who cackled and threatened her. She glared, realizing that this one must be the Crone, and the leader of this particular group of monsters. It was just too bad that she hadn't hit anyone Alicia knew, so mercy was not necessarily easy in coming. BBut she quicckly realized that she didn't have the time to worry about this, not when that man who had been captured was still being taken away. "Janet, Summer, watch over this one," she called, gesturing to the crone. "Persuade her to get her sisters to give up and change those poor souls back. Use whatever means you have to." They would have to manage that while she dealt with the others. Ethereal white wings flared wide, and with a rippling of power she launched herelf into the sky and after the duo. As she drew closer she readied Star Seraph and launched her shots, aiming for the more opportune targets in their broomsticks or their arms. She just had to get them to release their hold and then she could swoop in and rescue him before he hit the ground. it was as she was in motion that she noticed the sudden flames and heard the loud cry. She only faltered for a moment, warring between whether to turn back and help her team or keep going. But in the end there was no choice. It was clear that this was a foe, the announcement had said as much. Beacon was a team, family, and she had to trust that Summer and Janet could handle things until she got back. If there was difficulty, she was confident that they would let her know. For now, she had to focus on a rescue. End@Ariamis@MadManMoon@DarkwolfX37@BrokenPromise</s>
<|message|>Her birth name is Violet, but at age 2 her name was legally changed to Shion in respect to her just deceased great-grandmother. Shion's copy simply waved as Victoria's left and continued recording the scene. After a few seconds she paused. One of the girls fighting the skeletons was being attacked by a swarm of spiders. Spiders. I hate spiders. She pulled a small whistle out from her pocket and blew into it. Meanwhile, Shion and her other copies were attacked by another magical girl, appearing suddenly and shooting lightning at all of them. Of course, electricity being a byproduct of magnetism on the atomic level, it was simple enough for Shion to create several fields of magnetism into the air to divert the electricity, albeit barely in time, losing one clone in the process. She quickly jumped west with another clone while the other three split, two going north and one going east, all propelled from the roof with a large burst of repulsive force. It was at this point that the original Shion heard the whistle and leaped from rooftop to rooftop along her clone until she was directly above her recording copy and saw what was happening to the small magical girl. Snakes suddenly appeared and launched some of the skeletons, if they could still be called that in their wheeled forms, at the web binding her. Stupid. That would only slow them down. No, what she needed was exactly what Shion had, a secret weapon of her specialization. Or rather, two of them. She reached into her clone's pocket and pulled out a rather large silver pocket watch, holding it towards the spider web, close to where the giant spidergirl was. With her knowledge of magnetism, it was a simple matter to prepare her attack using little mana. The trick was not to rely on magical power, but rather on her own skill, skill she had refined in her time as a magical girl. Alternating polarization spread from her to her target before she let go of the watch and pushed it forward with her magic, firing it down an invisible funnel of magnetism that accelerated it past the speed of sound. A railgun, fired directly in front of and through the webbing from the horrendous monster girl, the "rail" continuing several feet underground before stopping for added power. "I'll give you one chance to leave! The next one is going through your skull!" she shouted at the spider. --- Summer barely dodged a spell from one of the witches and hid behind the cathedral. She saw some girl get turned into a skunk, but had no ideas on how to help her yet. It looked like her plan had failed; rather than being able to leave just the baddies in the Overcity, she'd not had enough power to even bring the whole cathedral, let alone make the trip back right away. The girl she had tried to save before seemed to have been caught in the Shift as well and was screaming. Summer was torn between her duty to help everyone and her desire to help her specifically. She decided that helping everyone would in turn help the girl, so she turned her focus back to the witches. It was shortly after that a terrible cry rung out through the area. Her attention turned towards the newly arrived monster girl, a kitsune with flames covering her hands. This was not good.</s>
<|description|>Captain Vasilia Marked by Zeus and Artemis Seeking Peace AND Chef Mate Dolce Marked by Hera and Artemis Seeking Adventure THE PAIR Vasilia's Agenda: Viva La Revoluction Dolce's Agenda: All For One And One For All STATS Vasilia Blood: +1 Courage: +1 Grace: +1 Sense: +1 Wisdom: -1 Dolce Blood: -1 Courage: +0 Grace: +1 Sense: +1 Wisdom: +1 Combined (Always with Hope) Blood: +0 Courage: +1 Grace: +2 Sense: +2 Wisdom: +0 Paired Core Birds Of A Feather: You play as two characters. The Pair can split up or stay together as they like, allowing you to be in two places at once. They each have a separate Look, separate Stats, and a separate personal Agenda. The Pair has separate bonds for each of them. Each of the Pair can only have one Bond with someone else, and others can only have one Bond with each member of the Pair. When they Fill Their Belly, the Pair only spends 1 Food, but they each heal one damage. Working Alone: When The Pair is separated, they make rolls with their separated stats and get the Spotlight separately. -When one of the Pair is acting to rescue, protect, or rush to the side of the other, they roll with Hope. -Working Alone is dangerous, as you rely on your teamwork. When you take damage while Working Alone, you must also pay a price. Working Together: When The Pair is together, they act as a single unit in perfect harmony. They combine their stats when making a move, and they share the Spotlight together. If either of you has Hope or Despair, you both do. -When you Keep Them Busy together, only one of you needs to stay to Keep Them Busy. The other may disengage and begin Working Alone. -When you Get Away or Look Closely together, you may split up. If you do, each of you may choose different options from that move's list, and you are now Working Alone. -When one of you takes damage while Working Together, the other takes damage to the same stat, if it is undamaged. Heroic Association: The Pair Commands Lore about an organization, instead of a society. You come from a company of mercenaries, bounty hunters, heroes, or some other such group. You Command Lore about who they are, what they want, their place in the world, their culture, their rivals, their enemies, and their laws, just as everyone else does. Daring Devils: -When you need a cool prop appropriate to your environment, like a chandelier to drop, a window to leap out of, or a vine to swing from, it's there. -When you use the terrain to protect you, you may Overcome using +Grace instead of +Blood. Leaping off of tall places to escape danger always counts as using the terrain to protect you. Who Are the Pair? Fated Pair: The two of you are inseparable, a perfect combination. When you are Working Together, you roll with Hope. The Pair Custom Heroes of the People: You do not need to roll to Speak Softly with common folk, friends, or coworkers - simply ask, and they will answer. Taste my Blade!: When you engage in swordplay with an enemy, you may Keep Them Busy with +Grace. On a 7-9, after their retaliation, you may insult them or make a quip to Keep Them Busy again, as if you'd rolled another 7-9 result. Mismatched Pair: Each member of the Pair takes a Custom move from a different playbook. Keep track of who took which move. Each of them may only use their chosen move while Working Alone. Vasilia: Listen Here You Little Punk: When you Talk Sense by telling them what will happen to them if they do not do as you ask, Talk Sense with +Blood, and on a 7-9, they cannot ask their favor of you until after they have done what you asked of them. Dolce: I've Got A Bad Feeling About This: When you're certain something's wrong here, you may ask the Overlord to tell you the safest way out, and also the quickest way out. They will answer truthfully Vasilia's Gear -An elegant sabre, the twin of Dolce's (Melee) -A grav-rail glaive with its own independent gravity field (Melee, Clumsy, Dangerous) -An elegant, long-barreled SP rifle (Ranged, Reload, Piercing) -An brace of pistols, blessed by Zeus (Ranged, Piercing, Dangerous, Recharge) -An Anathame. A knife with her name on it. (Protection against a Location stat, will betray her at any opportunity. Damage a stat to destroy permanently.) Dolce's Gear -An elegant sabre, the twin of Vasilia's (Melee) -A tasteful variety of well-preserved foodstuffs (Food, 3 Uses [X][][]) -Household odds and ends, turned to creatively underhanded purpose (Useful, 2 Uses [X][]) -A travel-sized cocktail kit, amply supplied (Slow, Vigor, 2 Uses [][]) Vasilia's Bonds -If it's a night for drinking, I'm with Alexa. No one else. -Iskarot and I have a professional respect for each other. And, personally, his straightforwardness is refreshing. -Bella carried me to her room. Shared of her private stock of wine. And for a moment, we might've trusted each other. Dolce's Bonds -Redana and I have spent hours together on the observation deck, watching Poseidon's wonders. -I am convinced that Alexa can taste, she just hasn't found a meal she could taste yet. Advancements: -Paired Custom: Taste my Blade! -Paired Custom: Mismatched Pair -Stat increase: Vasilia takes +1 Sense -LEVEL UP NEEDED</s> <|message|>Parentage The joke, of course, is that (with the Ianuspater quiescent) Redana's eyepatch really is an eyepatch. She's back to how she was, in her Coherent jacket and eyepatch, but with her golden hair settling around her shoulders, the dye bleached away by coming so close to her father. And the very first thing she does is shove the Magos to the ground, scared and desperate. "That's my eye," she yelps. And then she looks around and sees the oncoming battle, and how she might even be a target for the furious Alcedi, and Hera's threat flashes through her mind. So she stands up straight, pulls off her jacket, and yells at the top of her lungs: "Coherents of the Saffron Path, Redana Claudius, daughter of Nero, calls on you to stand down and surrender! In the pursuit of blessed knowledge, you have offended the Daughter of Wisdom and the Alcedi who honor her! Surrender yourselves to me, or face their judgment!" And that's all she can hope to do. She can't pry weapons out of the hands of the Alcedi; she can't make the Coherents drop theirs. All she can do is make her play. [8 to Talk Sense (very quickly) with Grace. This will likely put her in an awkward position, but stop the Coherents from being overrun and slain to a man.]</s> <|message|>The Kennels A golden eye watches the intruder with caution. A crimson eye watches the intruder with disdain. A bloodied face sits carefully expressionless and oozes more disgusting redness onto a torn and useless jacket. A pair of sharply pointed ears twitch with the effort of standing proudly atop a tired head when all they want to do is press meekly flat. A ragged sigh rises up in answer to a pointless celebration. "...Shut up." Liar liar liar liar liar liar stupid rotten liar liar LIAR! Where'd you disappear to when Redana ran away and I took all the blame? Where'd you disappear to when they were gonna kill me for losing her? You never cared, liar liar liar, you always do this, liar liar liar, you always disappear and pop back up when the work's all done, liar liar liar! "You know, you're really pathetic Mynx. All that posturing and moaning about your bad feelings and I'm still the one who has to do all the work." A golden eye grows black with hunting lust. A crimson eye pierces deep with holy judgment. Tired muscles twitch and flex across a battered body, keen to show their might but too lazy and tired and burned out to bring the woman to lift herself off the floor. Pointless. Everything is pointless. A tail thumps lazily against the ground, and curls around a bared waist after. Fingers curl into fists, but the blunted tips on the index and middle ones have no power to dig into her palms. The failures do not cut or puncture. Pressure builds like a horrible wave inside her skull. Her lips curl awfully. The pressure builds. She burns. "Look at you, standing there like a dipshit. You still think this is gonna work out for you? I told you, too fucking late. I see through you, Mynx. I know you're nothing but a fraud and a leech. And I don't need you anymore. I don't need anyone anymore." Tears threaten to flicker across her face and ruin everything. The Auspex burns them to steam before they can. Bella sneers, and bleeds, and lifts herself off the ground with an effort worthy of the gods.</s>
<|message|>Captain Vasilia The station was emptying. All fled, and those who didn't shortly regretted their lack of foresight. Vasilia flew down the corridors of the Yakanov unimpeded now, accompanied only by the crashing, shattering chaos of an army in full retreat. Then, amid the noise: Downbeats, to an unconventional time signature. No machinery ever broke so clean, if you had the ear to catch the pattern. A sign of the Starsong. A call for allies. Which meant-! Vasilia snagged a pipe to send herself tearing down the corridor, towards the rhythm, towards the sound, towards, "Dolce!" She careened down the hallway, and a flash of white streaked towards her, and when they met it was with all the force of a soft summer breeze. At last. At last! Alive! On his feet! Hardly a hair out of place! Let her bury her face in that precious wool. Let her check, let her count the curls, let not a one be missing. Against her bare stomach, she felt him. His mouth, straining to form words. Hands, gentle, insistent, pushing away. Giving him room to see. And stare, mouth agape. "What...what happened? Are you alright?" "Fine now, darling." She wouldn't let him go. Not yet. Her one good arm snaked around his shoulders and pressed him close to her, heedless of how it stung her or stained his vest. "Fine now. Are you in danger? When did you last see Alexa? We're not safe here-" "I know, but-" "Good, good, less time to explain." "We don't have to-" "I've fought this far, I can manage farther. So tell me; what's the situation?" He said nothing. "...Dolce? Darling?" He reached up, and stroked her arm gently, the most priceless treasure he'd ever been tasked with caring for. "Everyone's safe now." He soothed, in his warm, crackling fireside voice. "We won. We don't need to do anything more." He turned his eyes on her, and for the first time she noticed them glistening. "Vasilia...what did she do to you?" Aphrodite. Who knows the secret voice within us all. Nothing and no one hides from your sight. Hear her, now, when no one else will believe her. You who have drawn her heart out as drawing a dagger from her chest. Let her testimony stand that she gave no thought to her actions. No motive, no scheme, no shameful plot crossed her mind. She ached. She acted. He did nothing wrong. And she drew away from him, only because she could not bear feeling him beside her a moment longer. Not when her neck drowned in steaming memory. And her prayers were answered. Dolce's eyes flashed wide, shocked, but only for a moment. Blessedly, only for a moment, before they drew softer. Before he took her hand in his. Before he fought through a waking nightmare to offer his most battered and patient smile. All for her. And her prayers were answered. "Come." He said, and already he'd teased the first finger loose from the pistol. "We ought to regroup with Alexa and the others." He took the divine weapon in his own hand, leaving the other to clasp hers. "It's over, now. We will get you to an autosurgeon. All will be well. I promise." And her prayers were answered. Her Dolce did not leave her. Alight with insight and no way to know any better, he walked for the both of them. For the Captain whose strength had all but left her. For the one he swore to be ever faithful and true. And all the marvels of Hermes, the spite of Demeter, and the plans of Artemis combined did not wound her deeper than the gentle hand of Aphrodite.</s>
<|description|>Hirohiko Yamabuki Decided to submit this character for consideration instead of my wind-based character, for the sake of more potential power diversity. I hadn't heard back from the other wind-based applicant about the potential of having similar powers. I also think personality-wise he might be a bit more interesting to play. H I R O H I K O Y A M A B U K I "I'll...show everyone! I'll show them I'm good for more than falling down!" A G E 15 O R I G I N Sapporo, Japan P E R S O N A L I T Y T R O P E S Insecure about his worth as a Hero and a Person Thinks his Quirk is Worthless Wants to Help, But Freezes Up or Falls Over Every Time Wants to be a Well Liked Hero like his Mom, But Afraid of What Happened to Her. D E S C R I P T I O N Around 152cm tall or slightly under five feet tall, Hirohiko is a perpetual sloucher ontop of his short height except for his most determined moments. He seems not to have grown or matured much while the rest of his classmates shot up around him, though to him it's just another reason to feel uneasy. He has black hair with one stubborn cowlick and brown eyes that alternately seem like dull dead wood when he's depressed and smolder a bit brighter when he's determined. He's not very athletic as much due to lack of confidence as lack of size and as a result his physique is a little weaker in terms of muscle than average. He favors clothes that don't really call attention to himself in any way and feels more comfortable fading into the background and letting others overlook him. Q U I R K T Y P E Emitter Q U I R K D E S C R I P T I O N Hirohiko's Quirk is 'Mass Effect', the ability to manipulate his personal density. Currently when Mass Effect is activated Hirohiko's density increases exponentially until he's extremely heavy and too dense for his own strength and sense of balance to keep him upright if he attempts to move. Fortunately the increase in density and weight corresponds to an increased durability as his skin, bones etc all become correspondingly dense and tough, so these incidents of freezing up or falling over rarely result in injuries. With time he should be able to control the degree to which his density increases or even make himself lighter and less dense to allow for increased speed and jumping ability and perhaps even the ability to ride air currents. At the moment however, he doesn't have full control over his powers and can only become extremely dense. Perhaps due to past trauma, he also tends to become dense on reflex if he becomes frightened or over-excited, essentially during times of extreme emotion. C A P A B I L I T I E S Hirohiko is average in grades and subpar in athletics, though in that case partly because his Quirk activates whenever he gets too nervous or overexcited, pretty much stopping him in his tracks or making him fall over whenever he'd be about to accomplish anything athletically. As a result of repeated failures in front of his peers and his perceived lack of self-worth he's given up on most extra-curricular activities. He enjoys quiet solitary hobbies where it doesn't matter so much if he freezes up for a bit like drawing, reading and gardening. C H A R A C T E R G O A L S Ideally I'd like to develop him from a no-confidence having wreck who can't get past his fears over what happened to his mother into a confident, effective young Hero in training who wants to live up to her legacy. He'd start out unable to use his Quirk in any meaningful way except as self-defense, but with time, training and confidence he'd be able to move past his mental blocks and training obstacles and come up with a wide variety of applications for it in terms of combat and support. I think it'd also be neat to see about trying to turn him from someone who's overlooked and perhaps pitied by his peers into an equal over the course of the story.</s> <|message|>Midori Kinzokuma // Knightmare S h i o r i --- • Ishin Academy, Sapporo (Japan) • April 7th -- School Grounds --- What the heck? Why is everyone bein' so hostile and junk? Shiori's eyes widened as one of her classmates made what to her sounded like a declaration of war. The student in question, Noboru Nobounaga, definitely seemed high strung and she had half of a mind to kick him off his soapbox. Not because he wasn't better than she was or that she felt annoyed by his attitude but more that if he didn't shut up he was going to get all of them in trouble with their new teacher! Given the impression she got from Ishin Academy that wasn't a situation Shiroi really wanted to be in; especially considering their instructor was the legendary heroine, Knightmare! Shiori moved to speak and tell the hot-tempered boy to calm the heck down, but before she could utter a word her newfound friend with bright blue hair spoke first and probably not in a way that was going to defuse the situation. The black-haired girl could see the redness in Noboru's face as he was about to give them all a piece of his mind as people not only challenged him but then decided to ignore him for someone who sat at the back of the class. But before he could scream more at the class the sound of a thin and youthful voice cut everyone off at the same time. Shiori's eyes darted towards the doorway in anxiety. "Hey! Idiots! What do you think you're doing?" What in tarnation? For Shiroi, she was quite surprised where the voice came from as what appeared to be the shortest girl she had ever seen (at least by secondary school standards). Her expression looked harsher and meaner than Noboru's by any means. Was she another student? Shiori thought for a quick second before realizing that all the desks had been filled. It only left one conclusion—this was Knightmare out of costume. "And you! Moron number one! Get off that desk now unless you want to go home to daddy and say you got expelled for being a halfwit!" The small 'girl' groaned in annoyance as she walked into the classroom. Shiori quietly mused her thoughts to herself. Knightmare was obviously as loud and boisterous as what Shiori remembered seeing on the newsreel, but her voice without the sense of her armor was so much thinner and mousy. Sure they were yelling at her classmates, but she never imagined Knightmare was actually so… small in reality. Her armor definitely did not give that impression. She imagined some of her classmates were equally as dumbfounded. "What? What're all of you looking at? Never seen a teacher before or some crap? Did you think you were going to be instructor free?"</s> <|message|>Kazuo Mizushima K a z u o --- > > > Ishin Academy, Sapporo (Japan) < < < April 7th ~~ School Grounds --- Things seemed like they were moving towards an escalation in the severity of the situation. The blue haired girl, Ume as Kazuo would come to know, was quick to reply to Nobu. He liked that. Hopefully others were as strong willed and ready to butt heads as her. He wasn't one for unnecessary conflict, but as with any other field, competition was the name of the game. This was no different than being a pro hero, even if the school took things to the extreme. "Looks like..." Before Kazuo could continue another voice rose about the room. "Hey! Idiots! What do you think you're doing?" He flinched somewhat started by the sudden appearance of another person. He turned to find to source of the voice and his eyes widened. Knightmare. Holy shit. He was shocked. His sister had told him god knows how many stories about the diminutive hero before and throughout her stay in America to work as a hero out there. "And you! Moron number one! Get off that desk now unless you want to go home to daddy and say you got expelled for being a halfwit!" When she began to speak to Noboru he couldn't help himself. He tried to hold it back, but a small chuckle escapes. He tried to hide it by transitioning into a soft cough, turning his face just out of the line of sight of the legendary hero. Idiot... He thought to himself with a silent groan. This likely wouldn't bode well for them. Still, his ears perked up as she continued. "What? What're all of you looking at? Never seen a teacher before or some crap? Did you think you were going to be instructor free?" He wanted to respond. Comment on the fact that they probably weren't expecting to look older than their instructor. Comment on how it wasn't their fault she didn't give that commanding feeling by walking in the room out of her hero gear. But doing that would likely be akin to suicide for his future career as a hero. Boy, wouldn't his dad love that? He scoffed at the thought. Although, in retrospect it would have probably sounding like he was scoffing at the words of their apparent instructor. Still, this was gonna be an interesting experience for sure, given the colorful cast of would be heroes.</s> <|message|>Noboru Nobunaga Noboru's eyes narrowed into slits of crimson, sweeping over the classroom like a hunting hawk. It seemed that his declaration was to be met with only silence. But only a fool would concern themselves only with the "what" of a situation; the "why" was equally important. Were these students shy? Cowed by the harsh truth that they are about to face? Astonished by his doctrine? Or, unthinkably, were they really stupid enough to ig– At that moment, some bumpkin with a fruit walked in and said something dumb about a tropical fruit. Noboru thought, narrowed eyes now tinged with disbelief and suspicion as they locked onto the big lad that had so rudely shattered the atmosphere he had meticulously crafted. Moving his focus to the fruit, the arrogant youth rolled his eyes and decided that this kid and his fruit wasn't worth the effort. He didn't even like pineapple In the first place, and sharing tribute was laughable. Noboru would have made a comment about that, had a certain someone not lacked the wisdom to prevent inane drivel from spewing out of her mouth like shitty water from a backed up toilet. 'How dare this… this…' Noboru quickly counted up the seats in his head, 'seventh-rate loser have the audacity to spout such stupidity about me!' Thinking about it brought red to his ears and rage to his mind. He gritted his teeth like he wanted to crush his molars into a fine dust and glared daggers into the sickly haired girl. It wasn't simply that she had challenged him; a hero welcomes all challenges, after all. No, it was the precedent, the principle, and the fact that people were ignoring him now! Even that Kazuma poser, who was just earlier making a pitiable attempt at suppressing his indignation, was now focused on that pineapple bumpkin, Shinji. 'Figures. Fickle bastards.' Of course, he couldn't let this transgression stand either way. Those were some fighting words, and Noboru was prepared to give a hands-on demonstration of the vast gap that existed between himself and these non-believers. His hand reached to roll back the hem of his sleeve, and his mouth formed into the first syllables of a venomous retort… but it was all for naught. Noboru, mid-sleeve roll, slowly turned his head to the high-pitched, ill-natured voice that had cut through the room like a knife through butter. 'A child?' he thought immediately, eyebrow raised. Quickly, he connected the dots. 'Wait, the great Knightmare is just some short little girl? Pfft. Overcompensating with that quirk of yours, are we?' The irony was lost on him. Fortunately for Noboru, before he could break out into laughter, Knightmare directed a command his way: get off the desk or get out of the school. And fortunately for the classroom, Knightmare's sudden arrival had been sufficient to diffuse Noboru's volatility – for now. "Hmph. Fool. Even the teacher acknowledges me as number one*," Noboru huffed. Slowly, the redness faded from his expression, replaced by that insufferable smugness. "Better be happy that she'll be the first to teach you a lesson at this school." He hopped off the desk in acquiescence of his instructor's wishes. It wouldn't do to sink to his inferiors' level in front of a pro-hero, and he could always teach these fools the unfairness of world at a later point; this was a hero school after all. The imperious imp forced his chair out from under his desk and promptly sank into it. Resting his feet on the desk and leaning back like the platonic conception of a middle school-aged cool guy, he gave a 'go on' hand gesture to the diminutive teacher, as if he believed she was waiting for his permission to continue (he did). *it should be noted that Knightmare's actual inflection was "moron number one" not "[you] moron, number one." NobuNobu is, of course, both of these.</s>
<|message|>Hirohiko Yamabuki H i r o h i k o • Ishin Academy, Sapporo (Japan) • --- It was at this point that Hirohiko finally unfroze from where he'd been facing the wall. Who was it who'd shouted down the flashy boy who was practically the only one his height? It...seemed to be a little girl? But...did that mean Knightmare was actually a robot or a suit that she piloted with her quirk? That'd be awesome! If someone like that could use her quirk to become a powerful hero in spite of NEVER getting taller, maybe he could do the same thing! Clearly, she was actually the best choice to teach someone like him and...well, wasn't she actually really, really mean and scary though? Hirohiko got to his seat, still pleasantly surprised that he was nearly half-way away from being at the bottom like he'd expected he'd be in the end. Still, he wanted to know why Knightmare had chosen not to hide her now-obvious smol-ness, given that he struggled to be taken seriously himself at times for that very reason. "Um, excuse me sensei! Why did you choose to walk into the classroom out of your armor? I mean, people are more used to your armored appearance, so why did you want to make this kind of first impression instead?" The fact that asking such a thing might be suicide didn't occur to Hirohiko at all, a testament to the mental density that came with his physical density.</s>
<|description|>kishin asura Species: kishin. Maybe a bit of death God Age: around 800 Appearance: Abilities: Flight: self explanatory Regeneration: again, self explanatory Overall difficulty in dying: asura has survived things that would kill a normal human being. Ranging from wounds that nearly split him in two, to his most notable feat of spending 800 years without food, water, or oxygen, trapped in a bag made from the skin that had been torn off of his own body, prior to having every drop of blood drained from his skinless (and still living) body. Only to emerge alive and practically unscathed. Black blood: the substance that was injected into his body, and what revived him from his 800 year....nap... is the same thing that now flows through his veins. Not only does it give him a defensive boost somehow, but it is also known for making most people go crazy. Madness wavelength: as a kishin, he is practically his universe's embodiment of madness. Nothing makes this clearer than his soul wavelength. An extension of his soul, and something not to be messed with. It can make people go insane, and make illusions. Vajra: before he went insane and got sealed away in the most brutal way possible, he had a partner named vajra. Spoiler alert, vajra got eaten. Now asura can partially regurgitate his old pal and use him to fire lasers. It's a long story. Witch's soul: after consuming the soul of the spider witch arachne, asura turned into a giant monster. Despite not being a giant monster anymore, he has still learned how to use arachne's soul to boost his own power by means of soul resonance. Skin scarves: those scarves aren't just for show. Asura is able to utilize them as extra arms. Also, they are made from his own skin....yeah... Hand-to-hand: he's good at hand to hand combat. Shield: a simple red energy shield he can materialise at a moment's notice Weaknesses: Madness: while he has better control than he did before, it should be noted that he is insane. Fear: before becoming insane, asura was afraid of practically everything. And honestly, he kinda still is. Maybe not as much as he once did. But he still is. Relationship: he's pretty protective of his girlfriend. And would go so far as to let someone beat the shit out of him if fighting would lead to her being harmed. Unless he's super pissed. As for how he got a girlfriend, it's a long story. Speaking of which, Bio: (long story): in an attempt of better himself, the mighty lord death cast away his fear and lo and behold, asura was born. As a being of immense power equal to lord death himself, asura worked under his "father" and hunted witches. However, as he was born from fear, asura was afraid of everything. In an attempt to ease those fears, lord death paired him up with a death weapon named vajra. As a death weapon, vajra could turn into a weapon. His weapon form being a golden spike also called a vajra (the more you know). Original I know. This didn't exactly work and asura's fear persisted. Until one day he thought of an idea. Achieving ultimate power. He reasoned that in doing so, he would finally have nothing to fear. That may have been the start of his descent into madness. After killing a bunch of people and swallowing his weapon partner, who was in weapon form, asura became a serious threat. So lord death hunted him down and sealed him away in the least PG way he could. He drained the mad god before stuffing him in a big old bag made from his own skin. Asura's skin, not lord death's. Afterwards, he anchored his soul to what would one day become death city. Spoiler alert, it was a bad idea. Fast forward eight hundred years, everything's peachy. Until an attempt is made to free asura. Long story short, he gets free, squares off with lord death, and then flees. Lord death being unable to follow him due to the soul anchor thing. After some time, asura secluded himself in a temple high up on a mountain, where he was found by the leader of arachnophobia. Yep. It was arachne the spider witch. After nearly killing her with his skin scarves, the witch and the demon formed an alliance. Long story short, there was a big battle. In the midst of it, asura squared off with lord death a second time and almost killed him. After realizing his growing feelings for arachne, he flew away, went to her, removed her soul from her body, ate it, became a giant monster, and died from a punch to the face after a battle in which he survived a laser blast of certain death fired by lord death's son, death the kid. Again, pretty original. Some time later, asura experienced undeath (in the sense that he just stopped being dead completely) and found himself in another dimension. One freak out session later, asura embarked on an adventure. Meeting new people, making friends with a ghost girl, and settling down with an alternate universe's version of the girl who killed him with her fist. For some reason. (Short story): went insane from fear, shit happened, he died, then he undied, now he's a hero From: HCL (the previous one), and soul eater. Mostly the previous HCL at this point</s> <|message|>The mad king of Zorn, Malakai. asura No wavelengths matched that of what he would expect form such a ruler, one full of malice and madness. Simply, a group of people, prideful, their souls unstable with madness encroching. He'd not find Malakai there, but mayhap even still, a worthy challenge, as one soul in particular stood out. Rather than mad, it was prideful.Rather than malice, it was honor. Rather than the want to destroy. It was the want to protect, and to dominate. This man stood out like a sore thumb.... The guard makes no real attempt to follow him, however, a large man wearing no chest plate walks forwards. This man radiates a aura of power, dispite not wearing the blood armor on his chest, his body laced with thick muscle. "You....you've killed one of my men. For what reason have you done this?" He barks out, obviously annoyed, yet he doesn't pull any weapon. He simply stares at the drifter, with his red eyes, seemingly tainted with blood....</s> <|message|>Drifter the drifter shrugs and looks down at the severed head, shrugging before motioning as if drawing a blade and pointing at the head and then himself, his mouth and throat completely covered so as to hide the scars and bloodstains on his lips that seemed ever present and had long since been given up on removing them</s> <|message|>kishin asura Asura knew that person would know something. But he didn't want to risk being found out...unless... "Worth a shot." Asura says as he uses his madness wavelength to hide himself as he makes his way towards them.</s> <|message|>The mad king of Zorn, Malakai. asura @Tyki ".....one moment..." The man says, before picking up a rock, and hurling it, the rock scraping the cheek of Asura. This man let him know, he knew where he was. He then turned back to the Drifter, and cracked his knuckles. "...Then come at me. If you see fit to murder my men, you've already accepted death." He says, but he drew no blade. Issac soon appeared, dropping from a portal, an attempt to get the drop on this foe. The man moves in a blur, and with a single kick, sends Issac tumbling though one of the buildings, before it collapses onto him. This man would not be as easy to topple as his subordinate.</s> <|message|>Drifter The drifter watches him lazily, like one might a fly hovering around a window, the aching welling up to denote another episode as the man talks at him, the drifter seeming to slowly loose focus before doubling over in pain, coughing and vomiting on the bridge as neon pink splatters across the boards and onto the shoes of those nearest him, his scarf having been tugged out of the way at the last second, generating an opportunity as it were. The episode passes swiftly and the drifter stands only for their eyes to dart about randomly before they seem to be stabbed by... something from all angles and falling to the boards, still and lifeless, the hunter's prey seeming to have eluded him via their own means, a jackal in the nearby shores that seems to corrode his vision as he watches it, black tendrils retracting into before it open's it's maw as if to bark, his mind being filled with sheer backlash, like everything going wrong at once in his mind, pain welling up inside him as the rest of the crew would pretty much just be watching him suddenly hold his head while the severed head grows spider-like limbs and crawls away to the water</s> <|message|>kishin asura "So much for the element of surprise." Asura thinks to himself</s> <|message|>The mad king of Zorn, Malakai. @kishin asura "D-damn it...DAMN IT!" Shang would yell, holding his head, screaming in pain. "Graaaa!" Slowly he stumbles backwards, before falling to one knee. He would be left vulnerable, at least for the moment. Slowly, the rubble of the building he had launched Issac into shifts, as Issac emerges from the rubble. Hurt, but not dead. His sword still in one piece. "...Now's my chance..." He coughs out, as he dashes forwards, and drives his blade into Shang's stomach, blood spurting out onto Issac. Shang would look down to see the blade piercing his stomach. He would grumble, before falling backwards, the blade being pulled out as he fell. "....Was that it?" Issac asks, almost in disbeleife that he had defeated this man....but Asura would know. Shang would survive, if left for dead.....</s> <|message|>Drifter asura@supertinyking The drifter lay still against the boards, lifeless while the world moved around him, his flesh seeming to decay to black rather than the putrid green of a human's before coming off in flakes similar to ash only for him to sit up mid way through, the black of death gone and instead replaced with a strange vigor. He simply looks at his surroundings, confused at first before noting something in the distance and just shrugging before standing and booting the knight over onto his stomach, reaching forwards to dig into his flesh with one hand before removing the second spinal cord with a strong tug, leaving his true spine without a cover as he gets out a small pda and goes over to the remaining knight, texting out a small message and showing it to him "what is this?"</s> <|message|>kishin asura Asura silently regurgitates vajra as he silently makes his way towards shang. Keeping himself hidden as well as possible</s> <|message|>The mad king of Zorn, Malakai. @kishin asura As the drifter started to yank on the spine, he found that simply, Shang rose with it. and then stood up, leaving the drifter to comically hang from the spine, it still firmly in place, despite the Drifter's best efforts. "...That was a low blow. Attacking my mind, just so your friend could get in a cheap hit....I'll admit though, that hurt like hell." Shang says, rubbing his stomach. He then looks back at the drifter. "...However, you didn't do that did you...no...that strange dog had someth-" He starts, before Issac would lung forth blade at the ready. "Hitting you in the stomach was a mistake, my next attack will take off your head!" Issac declares, before Shang casually grabs his blade in one hand. Issac makes a noise of surprise. He tries to pull his blade from Shang's grasp, but fails. Shang sighs, loudly. "Don't you know it's rude to interupt someone? Please, wait to try to kill me after I'm done talking to your friend.....and you." He says, pointing with his free hand at Asura. "You cannot hide from my eyes. Come, join us. Sulking in the distance is unfitting of someone of your power. That's right. I can see that intense magical power deep within you....I'd say you're strong enough to kill all three of us with little effort....." He says, smiling. "It's honestly a treat, to meet so many powerful people in one moment. Two, with nearly overwhelming power....one...with not so much..." He says, his eyes shifting over towards Issac. He then punches Issac in the stomach with enough force to cause him to drop to the ground, holding his stomach, coughing up blood. Shang then snaps his blade in two, using simply two fingers to do so. He then looks back at the Drifter. "..Oh, yes. So, I'm guessing you didn't cause that pain....it was that strange dog....Am I correct? Nod if so." He says. He seems to be entirely different, after the Drifter had some vitality put into him. It's as if Shang saw him as a new being.</s> <|message|>Drifter the drifter kinda nods, still hanging onto his second spine and comedically flopping around like a flag at this point for teh lulz. He then takes out a fine point pen and half writes-half carves "while i have my senses; your guy threatened us, challenged me to a fight, and then used some kids as a shield when i busted his armor. his fault, just saying... also, mute if you couldn't tell" complete with elipses, the carving part being more due to the actual nature of fine point pens</s> <|message|>kishin asura Asura said nothing. But he did fly at shang. Ready to stab him with vajra</s> <|message|>The mad king of Zorn, Malakai. @kishin asura "......." Even with the drifter still holding onto him, Shang took a stance, ready for his approaching foe. "Bring it, this will be a fight to remember...." He says, before he seems to remember the drifter hanging onto him, and quickly grabs him, and tosses him out of the way, not in a manner denoting an attack. Rather, to keep him out of it, as Asura would most likely slam into him, stabbing into the side of his chest with Varja, blood leaking down from Shang's mask, a lung punctured. However, the monster of a man doesn't collapse. Not yet. Collecting his strength, he braces against the attack, tightening the muscles around the wound, trapping Varja in the wound. "I'll not give you a chance.....to use that weapon again..." He says, coughing blood between some of the words. He'd then begin to swing a fist downwards, intending to smash Asura's head, him ignorant of Varja's abilities.</s>
<|message|>kishin asura Asura's mouth curls up into a faint smile as he fires a series of blasts from vajra</s>
<|description|>Kargut Blastikk Nickname(s):Da Mad Bombah Klan:Bad Moons Role:Tank Busta (demolition "expert") Common Armament: Camouflaged 'Ard boy Armor (The camo even works oddly enough) Tank Hammer Tank Busta bombs Lot'a 'splosives!!! Anything else: "What you mean I aint stelfy? Da Humies can't raise da alarm if I blew it up now can dey? 'sides, not much use sneekin after a big ol Kaboom! Humies all worried 'bout their tanks an' buildins, too busy to be shootin' at me!" His 'Ard Boy Armor is not intentionally camouflaged, it is caked with enough mud and plant debris it has become passable camouflage. He also carries a necklace of gears, nuts, and other assorted components of vehicles he has smashed or 'sploded the most precious of these is a thick gear supposedly belonging to an Imperial Titan (this is entirely... not true) [/hider]</s> <|message|>Kargut Blastikk The idea of mashing Gutsnaga into the ground was a tempting one, but not a realistic one. While he was deciding a las bolt seared his shoulder, jogging his few brain cells into noticing what was going on around him. He was taking a lot of hits, though his armor was thick and tough enough to shrug off most of the incoming fire at this range. Mostly because these humies didn't really understand the proper application of DAKKA. "Agh! Imma find som'thin ta smash" he growls at the boss, angry that he knows he would lose the fight with Gutsnaga and angrier that there wasn't something fun to make explode. He stomps off swinging his Tankhammer viciously smashing through a tree of appreciable thickness to vent his frustration. Bullets and las bolts still pinging off his armor until he was covered by the canopy of the broken tree. Once out of earshot, which wasn't far due to the cacophony of battle going on Kargut starts grumbling to himself "Da boss tink 'ees so cunnin', but 'e can't even git us to a proppa fight! Da humies 'ere are soft an' scared as a wimpy grot!'" He stomps his way back to his previous position, on the other side of their little battlefield that he had abandoned a minute or two ago. Only to find a Guardsman trying to sneak up on them with a pair of grenades. Kargut shrugs, Waste not the gifts of Gork and Mork, he steps around the tree already swinging his Tankhammer with a satisfying bellow of "WAAAGH!!!"</s> <|message|>Snekart 'Eadsmakka No more invaders for now. Humies gettin' ripped to shreds had put off any other flanks for the moment, so far as Snekart could see - at least, none that Da Shiv wasn't able to get the brunt of. Snakey git deserved it, naturally. Anyway, Snekart found himself back in the area they were stuck in, putting the 'eavy bolta on his back for the moment as he crawled back to da boss. "Crawled", but more like a fast scramble between bits of cover, because otherwise he'd be seen, and being seen was bad for not being shot. To not be shot, you had to not be seen, obviously. Kargut hadn't figured that out yet, but even if he had, his stupid giant armour made it real difficult for him anyway. 'Psst. Boss.' Snekart was real quiet-like, which was still pretty loud, but quiet for an Ork. 'Wot's da plan, an' 'ow do I... er, wot do I do innit?' Turns of phrase weren't his strong point, but they weren't really any other Ork's strong point either, so that worked out fine for him. And of course, Gutsnaga did understand at least the basic bits of how to fight with kunnin' instead of just brutality, so best to make sure things were working the way he wanted them to. If they were working how Gutsnaga wanted, they were probably working how Snekart wanted too, obviously. That was why he'd signed up with Da Mad Boss to begin with, obviously.</s> <|message|>Gutsnaga @BCTheEntity@Skwint@Sophrus@Torack@Jarl Coolgruuf Gutsnaga looked around a bit until he found Snekart standing nearby- now he was a true Blood Axe, a sneaky and kunnin' git who understood the rudimentary skills of stelff - one large hand stroked over his scarred jaw and he gave a deep-throated chuckle. "Gimme til night, den you'll see we all got summit to do..." --- --- Night came swiftly to the jungle, the sounds of an alien planet coming alive all around the Greenskins position, the Imperial Guard finally having ceased their bombardment of the Kommandoz location for a moment. "Aaaaah," rumbled Gutsnaga in his chest, "now dis is wot I been waitin' for." Using the sign-language of all Kommando squadz he gathered the rest of the squad around, "rite, listen up ladz. Them 'umies gonna try an get uz like a squig in a zoggin' trap, circle us like... but we gonna 'it 'em first see?" He hadn't gotten to his rank in the Orkoid hierarchy by being stupid, but by knocking out more than one set of teeth on those larger than himself snd cleaving his enemies apart. Time after time fighting against the Guard and other Imperial forces had taught him a thing or three, and basic 'umie strategies were grasped even by his admittedly primitive brain. "Roite." Gutsnaga grabbed a large stick from the ground - ground covered in bullet-casings, holes from explosions, and spilt blood - scrawling a childlike diagram into the soft jungle dirt for all the others to see as they gathered round. "Gonna try an ring our necks, see?" He grunted, drawing a circle inside a bigger circle, "dis is uz, an 'ere is them, yeah?" Next came an arrow pointing toward the larger circle from the smaller one, an arrowhead formed out of the smaller circle before going through the larger one, "das uz, we gonna punch roight thru 'em." Slipping his knife the size of a grown humans arm from it's squig-skin sheath, Gutsnaga grasped some dirt and rubbed it over the glinting blade. "Choppas only for this one ladz, gotta keep it reel quiet like. At least until we get clear, init." A large grin spread across the Nobz face, his eyes boring into those of Kargut for more than a moment, "grab yer gear boyz, we're movin' out." --- --- As the seven moved through the undergrowth, sweat coating his hunched green body, Gutsnaga swept his goggle-covered eyes from one side to the other - always alert, always prepared to unleash some good old ultra-violence upon the enemy. It was only a matter of time until they hit the encroaching humans, and he happened to be at the tip of the arrowhead (of course, cus he was the boss like), and when that happened they had to be quick as a striking squig-snake and as deadly as a venom-squig. It took several hours of hiking and hacking through overgrown flora before the Devilz Brigade began to hear the rustling of something that wasn't just a huge predator or animal. Immediately Gutsnaga raised a fist for silence and overwatch, his goggles picking out numerous heat signatures among the foliage, at least two dozen Guardsmen being led by peak-capped officers, there were also at least four heavy weapons held in unsteady hands. Oh yes, he could smell the fear on these pinkskins. "Alroight boyz, noice an safe - if ya got a silencer then stick it on an take some shots - we gonna put some holes in these 'umies. When yer ready then ladz."</s> <|message|>Snekart 'Eadsmakka Snekart hated waiting. Waiting meant enemies could try to sneak up on you, right back in Snekart's case. And nobody liked gettin' a shiv to the back, especially not Orks. Or, well, it depended on how you did it. A good backstabbing needed to be nice and gory, but still quick enough that you were gone by the time the other enemies turned round. So more of a backgutting, naturally. But obviously, you could just hit all of 'em with a load a dakka, and it'd be way more useful than either method, and also way more fun, as another squad of humies found out partway through the waiting. Boss Gutsnaga eventually brought everyone back to him, when night fell, and came up with a plan. It was a pretty good plan - the humies were in a circle around 'em, so they'd get together and go through 'em. A good, kunnin' strategy. The problem, and what stopped it from being brutally kunnin', was that it was choppas only, which was a bad idea. The idea was to punch through, right? If he meant actually punching 'em, then choppas made sense, but if it was just to go through the humies quickly, it'd be way faster to shoot 'em when they got in the way. Sneakily, obviously. Snekart really wanted to say something about that, he really did... --- In the end, he didn't say anything. Brutality made sense a lot of the time, but the better part of kunnin' was knowing when to get brutal wiv it. Obviously. And obviously, 'aving a go at da Mad Boss because you couldn't use yer 'eavy bolta was not kunnin'. Besides, Gutsnaga was naturally kunning. He probably knew wot he was doing. Anyway, if they did start getting shot at, Snekart meant to hide behind Kargut and his giant bloody armour until he could get into cover that he could move through, which made sense because they were both green, obviously. Hours passed. They went pretty fast for 'Eadsmakka, because he was used to taking his time when sneakin' round. He figured most of the others might have trouble dealing with the long time spent not killing humies, because obviously krumpin' gits was fun - except Shiv, who was also used to it and a bit slow anyway, and Kargut, who was also used to it. Bein' slow, that was. Naturally. But in any case, after a lot of they wound up near some humies. Finally. And they could even go ahead and shoot 'em down, after all! If they had a silenc... er. Snekart gritted 'is teef so 'ard, one of 'em nearly broke out uv 'is mouf, clenchin' 'is fists until 'is 'ands bled ta stop 'imself from flailin' 'em angrily. Zoggin' bloody 'ell. Uv all da things 'is 'eavy bolta woz, silent wozn't one of 'em, an' 'e didn't 'ave a zoggin' silencer ta make it silent, because dat wozn't wot it woz for, it woz like Gutsnaga woz makin' fun uv 'im for 'iz zoggin' weapon- No, no, it woz fine. It was fine. He could deal with it. Work with it. Whilst the others took shots, Snekart could sneak ahead and do the sneaky sort of stabbin'. The kind that wasn't as brutal as a propa krumpin': if you 'ad to, you could get a backstab in quick-like wiv yer 'and over dere face, and sometimes that was enough. Mork didn't always need you to hit 'em so 'ard they went everywhere. Just 'ard enough to make 'em go down, right? Yeah, he could do that. 'Psst. Boss. Permishun ta start guttin' 'em all quiet-like, yeah?' he asked, quiet-like obviously, because they'd hear him if he was loud, obviously. Once he got the permishun, he'd start sneaking ahead, bein' sure ta be extra-quiet so 'e didn't get seen too soon. Normally, he'd unload with the 'eavy bolta, but... no silencer. He'd need to get one a those for next time this happened.</s>
<|message|>Kargut Blastikk Kargut had several hours to entertain himself while he waited for night fall, So naturally he gravitated to his particular idiom. He was collecting explosives. The guardsmen often had a grenade or two that he could rig up into something exciting. The dozens of guard that they had killed earlier today had plenty for him to tinker with. As the small skirmishes happened around the orky position Kargut was shuffling through collecting explosives, and brutalizing any survivors naturally. As darkness fell he had accomplished his goal to cover their breakout, or more accurately making some hilariously dangerous devices to detonate to cause havoc and mayhem as they left. He placed several around the area they had been occupying earlier today and had left several scattered around the jungle encroaching on the Imperial encirclement. It would be a Roight boom. Kargut joined the boss and his little crew just as the boss was outlining his plan, Kargut however had a new flourish to his ensemble. He was carrying a many Imperial Guard packs filled with grenades and lasgun power packs rigged to a detonator. If he exploded right now it would more than likely kill everyone present and everything several meters from where he stood. While exciting that wasn't the plan, he would be covering their rear with fire and shrapnel. Making it look like they were attacking the encirclement at a half-dozen different spots all at once so the puny humies didnt know which direction they went until morning at least. The Boss singled him out, which was annoying, he was plenty Stelfy and cunnin' he was sure. Honestly he was a Kommando like everyone else, so obviously he was stelfy and cunnin'. It was fine, his plan was extra cunnin' an' brutal, the boss would see that and so would the others. He didn't really tell anyone his plan, he was a mad bomber after all, though his skulking about and the lack of explosions over the last few hours would probably be a good indication that he was up to something. As they drew up to the Imperial line the Boss indicated where they were near the humie lines and had everyone get their choppas and silenced shootas, Silenced Shootas! it was blasphemy against Gork... Or possibly Mork, either way a shoota wasnt supposed to be quiet the idea bothered Kargut but he didnt say anything, just laying down one of the imperial packs and twisting a dial that armed the detonator and linked it to the trigger he carried. Da Bolta git was all pumped to get to the Imperial lines, Kargut was too, but not quite to the same degree. He couldnt use his bombs because they were all kinds of noisy, and his tank hammer wasn't really much quieter so he would follow everyone else in and leave his presents around so they could make sure the puny humies wouldn't follow them.</s>
<|description|>Camilla de la Trantio Gender: Female Age: 21 Career/Class: Courtesan/Duelist Physical Description: Camilla is a medium sized woman around 5'5. She possess the slightly bronzed skin, angular features and dark hair common among Tileans. She has the smooth clean lines of a classical statue and the lean musculature of a dancer. Every part of her seems artfully contrived, as though she stepped from the canvas of a master painter. Camilla moves with deliberate grace which is appropriate to her profession. Mental Description/Personality: Camilla is a fiery impetuous young woman. As a child she was selected from among orphan's for her physical beauty and raised to fill the role of Courtesan in the decadent courts of her native Tilea. Among her studies were poetry, dance, repartee, song, politics, literature, art and sword play. Camilla is out of place in rough and dangerous situations, and although naturally adventurous and curious about the world she is no heroine. She has a fiery temper and has a tendency to act rather than to wait if given the chance. While technically trained with the sword, Camilla's education is that of the stylized art of the sword rather than the rough and brutal style of real combat, while she is perfectly comfortable fighting a duel to the tough for the entertainment of a crowd, she had little experience with real killing. Camilla has a passing devotion to Randald and Shyalla, although she tends to focus on the world in front of her rather than the world beyond.</s> <|message|>Camilla de la Trantio Emmaline felt clean for the first time since she had been dragged into Emir Omar's bed chamber a year ago. Some dirt didn't come off no matter how many rose scented baths you took. Idly she wondered if the Emir's blood had been what made her feel clean again, realising such thoughts might verge on heretical she closed her eyes and allowed the hot water to relax her muscles and her mind. She was the only woman in the bath house and she had two servants to herself. The conservatively garbed women washed her hair and scrubbed her body with practiced care, whispering softly to each other in Arabic that she pretended not to understand. As her lecherous old master had told her, allowing people to underestimate you never failed to pay off. The conversation largely revolved around her golden hair and the petty jealousy the bath maids held for those who could afford to use their services so she tuned them out. She was so relaxed she might have fallen asleep when Amal suddenly stuck his head through the tarp that partitioned the bath, catching a full view of her naked body in the calm hot water. She had just enough time to gasp and attempt to cover herself with her hands before he told her to meet him outside and then vanished, followed by heavy footfalls and angry shouts. "The rogue!" one of the dancing girls exclaimed, seeming outraged. "A handsome rogue though," the other responded with a titter. Emmaline rose from the bath, allowing the hot water to stream over her generous form for a moment before sticking her head out between the two pieces of tarp, careful to keep herself concealed. She caught the familiar whiff of blood on the air. Retracting her head she snatched up a towel and quickly began to dry herself off. The two attendants stepped to her and took over the job. "Shall we brush your hair mistress?" the first one asked in halting Riekspiel in an abominable accent. Emmaline could only presume she had picked it up from passing sailors and Imperial merchants. She was about to refuse, when she realised that Amal obviously didn't intend her to rush after him. Worse yet doing so might make her an accomplice in whatever mayhem he had just committed. "Ja," she ordered the serving girl, shaking her sodden hair away from her back and taking a seat on a carven three legged stool provided for the purpose. The girls began to brush her hair with a comb made of some kind of ivory and within a quarter hour it was shining with the full lustore of spun gold. The practice also gave her body time to dry in the hot desert air and by the time she had dressed in her sari she had almost forgotten about Amal's sudden disappearance. It was almost another half hour later when Amal returned to deliver his surprising offer. She had been on the verge of simply abandoning the thief, especially as a number of armed barefoot Arabyians had come in and out of the bath house, sailors judging by their calloused palms and rolling gates, and appeared to be growing increasingly agitated by something they found inside. "I wish to travel to Copher," she told him as they hurried away through a side alley. While she had intended to take a ship, it might well be a better choice to take the land route, though that meant weeks of travel across "If you wish to come with me, I won't object, you are the only person I know in this Sigmar blighted country." "What is in Copher?" Amal asked. Emmaline gave him a side long look. Copher was the closest major city, but it was also a seat of learning and sorcerous knowledge. She wanted to consult the scholars there about the strange map she had taken from the Emir. "When I…" she glanced around as they hurried down a narrow street, there were too many people for her to speak openly so she changed her words. "When I did what I did, I also stole an ancient map that was on display," she explained, opting for the truth as the simplest and most expidient choices. "I want to ask a historian in Copher about it." "A map to what?" Amal asked, his eyes narrowing speculatively. "Well if I knew, I wouldn't need to consult anyone would I," she replied tartly. "I need to pick up a few things before we leave town," she told him. Amal looked nervously over his shoulder. "So long as its quick…" The Street of Wonder was located on the southern side of the city, only a few blocks from where the ancient city walls sectioned of the desert with is limestone ramparts. In mid afternoon it was a busy place filled with sound and confusion. Students of various philosophers stood at opposing street corners, shouting insults and arguments back and forth at each other. Brightly dressed merchants cried the virtues of wares from a dozen kingdoms, promised miracles, offered immortality and various other such persuasions. There were even peddlers selling relics of lost Khemri, or so they claimed, as far as Emmaline could tell there was nothing on display that might not have as easily been a fake produced this very week. There were more substantial shops also, some claiming to be the domains of wizards and seers. Emmaline could detect a spark of genuine magic in but a few and she angled quickly towards one located in a large white washed building. A sign hung out front depicting a stylized eye within a pyramid. The interior of the shop was dark and cool and smelled strongly of incense. Books lay piled in more or less random, many in languages Emmaline didn't recognise. There were Khemrian papyri and even Cathayan writings all piled up without any rhyme nor reason she could detect. On the other side of the store stood a variety of oddly assorted items. Paws of some creature she didn't recognise, bundles of incense, and flasks and alchemical equipment. An exceedingly tall man hunched behind a counter in front of a wall filled with jars and bottles of unknown content. Amal glanced around suspiciously, Emmaline dearly hoped he was too smart to attempt to steal anything. "Hexe," the tall man said in an oddly serpentine voice, bowing from the waist to her. "What can I do for you?" he asked in flawless Reikspiel. She reached into her pocket and drew out a handful of gold coins. The fellow smile grew broader. A little while later Emmaline and Amal emerged from the store. In a leather backpack she now carried a large case filled with the basic tools of her trade. Alchemical equipment, ungents and ingredients, a small rod of magnetic gold, and a variety of ingredients that one rarely found in the wild. She had also purchased a tome on Charmon, as well as a lexicon for translating Khemri and the other ancient languages of the desert. It had cost most of her coin, but she hoped it would prove a worthy investment. "Shall we be on our way?" she asked.</s> <|message|>Cyrdic Becker "Yes, lets." Amal replied. It took them an hour or so to make it to the northern gate of the city, arriving just in time for the noonday Caravan to embark. It wasn't the most common thing for two travelers on foot to accompany one of the spice caravans, but it wasn't rare by any stretch either. Amal remembered when he was younger, when the mad Sultan Ibn Alfar had poisoned the water supply to a portion of the city to punish them for their transgressions. He had watched from the walls as hundreds of people had left the city in a great migration, the vultures encircling them before they had even left the horizon line. They approached as a man with charred skin and a contrasting white beard tossed woven bags onto a cart, working contentedly before it was time to go. He had merely four left to stack on as the trumpet blared from the gate, signalling it was time to embark. Amal knelt down beside the trader, picking up the heavy sacks with more ease than the older man, helping him pack as the first merchants stepped onto the road. "Thank you, my friend." The trader said, his smile warm from the help. "Is a fine day for travel, yes?" "Yes yes," Amal agreed. "We were looking to travel with your troupe today. You could bear two more bodies?" The trader lifted himself up and squinted at Emmaline, her hood covering all but her chin. She was just a cloaked woman with a bag that jingled and clacked as she stood, waiting for him to speak. "Yes, I do not mind..." he said finally. "You and your...?" "My wife." Amal explained, sliding between them. "She has had a rough night. The sun hurts her eyes." The man laughed. "She must be a foreign woman," he joked. "The sun never sleeps in Araby." --- Amal juggled the balls one of the travelers had given him on a dare. So far, even with the cart bumping along the desert road, Amal had kept track with the five. He seemed entirely in a joking mood now that they were out of Lashiek, the city now gone from their sight, disappearing behind the heat haze of the winding path. Amal's smile and bright eyes made him seem far less dangerous than Emmaline would know him to be, and as he finished his trick, each ball fell into his awaiting hand, the hand simultaneously tossing them back to one of the women watching. Amal and Emmaline shared the wagon with an older man, who looked to be the trader's brother, so alike were they in appearance, and two women, likely his daughter and wife. It was lucky there was room, as there were only a handful of wagons on the road. The rest of the goods were being transported atop Camels, the lumbering beasts bobbing up and down in their strange, two step fashion. The next day was much the same, though Amal and Emmaline kept to themselves moreso than the previous, as they had begun to ask questions on who they were and why they sought to travel to Copher. On this day they walked. Thirty miles away from Lashiek, with another seventy to go before they reached Copher.</s>
<|message|>Camilla de la Trantio They traveled steadily west under the cool evening sky. The heat of the Araybian sun was such that no one traveled by day if they could manage it. As the days passed and Lashiek sank behind them Emmaline gradually felt the tension lift from her. If Emir Omar's heirs were looking for her, she had clearly slipped the city before they were able to organise a search. Perhaps a caravan had simply been too unorthodox a choice to bear watching, or perhaps the heirs were more interested in fighting over their father's inheritance than in tracking down the slave girl who had slain him. She attracted more than her fair shair of looks from the caravans various denizens. Her pale skin and eyes would have been obvious even if her blond hair did not give her away as a foreigner. At least Amal's assertion that she was his wife kept anyone from getting too curious. The thief had the look of a bad man to cross, especially if you planned on sleeping at any point. She kept her books and equipment in her pack, though she was eager read them, she didn't want to raise any more suspicion than she had too. Wizards were more tolerated in Araby than was the case in the Empire but it wasn't a cultural difference she was keen to explore. Amal had been vague about his sudden decision to leave Lashiek but his frequent glances over his shoulder told her that he was even more concerned about pursuit than she was. Whatever had happened in the bath house had clearly left him spooked, but she hadn't chosen to press him on the topic. They had talked surprisingly little, pretending to be husband and wife meant that they both, in theory already knew each other and both of their minds were occupied with the possibility of pursuit. "It is a still night," Emmaline observed, pulling her shawl closely about her as they made their way through a shallow defile. The landscape around them grew craggy as they moved westward, while they were not far from the coast the inland mountains ran down to the sea and to a treacherous series of reefs and shoals beyond. The camels seemed more restive than usual as they picked their way across the broken ground. A sudden scream split the night and a caravan guard toppled to the ground clawing at an arrow in his belly. Another thwacked into the wooden bench on which Emmaline was sitting. A half dozen more arced through the air, one striking a camel which screamed and bolted. The caravan drivers tried to stir their beasts to a sprint but already horseman could be seen riding across the skyline at the far end of the defile. "AaiiiiIe!" came a great shout and a dozen shabbily dressed bandits leaped from the low scrub and rushed forward,the archers too, having lossed their missiles, burst into view as they rushed down the shallow walls of the defile. Steel rang against steel and sparks flew where scimitars clashed as the caravan guards tried to give battle. Emmaline looked around wildly only to spot more bandits coming down from behind them. One of the bandits leaped onto the wagon. Emmaline managed to shrieked and dodged as his scimitar bit into the timber she had just vacated. She punched at his head but he caught her wrist and grinned at her with hideous blackened teeth as he drew back his blade. The panicked Imperial shrieked a word in the arcane tongue and the bandit shrieked and dropped his sword, his hand was blackened and smoking and his filthy sleeve was on fire. Emmaline snatched up the sword that her spell had momentarily imbued with the heat of its forging, now cool to her hand, and hacked inexpertly at the screaming bandit. The heavy blade bit into the flesh between neck and collarbone with a sound like a cleaver severing a joint of beef. Bright arterial blood sparkled in the moonlight as the bandit tumbled out of the wagon. The blade hung and the unexpected jolt yanked Emmaline off balance. She made a desperate grab for the edge of the wagon but toppled out after the bandit landing on her rear with a thump in the rocky sand.</s>
<|description|>Travis McGrath Age: 30 Sex: Male Appearance: 6'2" with black hair and blue eyes. White skinned. Noticeable facial hair at the chin and finely trimmed. Sporting a more Westerly appearance with a short and thin leather duster coat, white button-up shirt with a popped-out collar and a loose scarf-like tie, dark faded blue jeans, and boots. "Shh, I'm focusing...And trying to look intimidating." Like many of the Societas Academia, Travis has a very good understanding how magic functions and how certain spells are performed. Being an Untalent however, much of what he has learned is unfortunately outside of his realm of implementation and only gets by with the bare basics of each aspect. But to him, this is perfectly fine; the spells Travis can produce by himself are considered useful survival tools in order to help him get by. His real prowess is through the deciphered tomes and runes recovered throughout his journeys, capable of extending his abilities beyond his current potential. Though if anything, they too are yet another means of allowing him dissect and better understand their magical functionalities and eventually reproduce their effects in more manageable and efficient methods. Funnily enough, given his recent and occasionally perilous encounters, Travis has been seen to be a rather surprisingly athletic runner. "Magic is simply another form of science that is growing and evolving as we continue to discover and learn more about it." Being an Untalent amongst a rather social community of more capable Talents can definitely be rough. Condemned to a lesser status because of one's natural inability to coordinate with magic fluidly was the fate many Untalents within the Societas Academia faced almost daily. Travis however didn't seem to be bothered by this too much. In fact, he was perhaps too busy studying and discussing theories to really care at all. While as an Untalent and indeed had higher expectations set against him by his self-deserving peers, he enthusiastically conceptualized these endeavors as welcomed challenges in order solve rather petty societal crises to stress about. Though Travis was no ace mage and was more likely a magician as far as skills go, his main strength was his constructed knowledge base with a fierce understanding of the architecture of mana and magic implementation. After years of hard study and grueling practice, Travis eventually achieved the rank of Aspect trainee and began the next phase of his training. Without any particular proficiency found in any particular set of spells, he would then opt-in into the Aspect of Scholar. As one would expect from his intuitive personality, Travis had felt right at home with his new position and became eager to set out for new discoveries. What he didn't know was how cruel and horrifying the world could be outside the Societas Academia. The concept of death was something many students were well versed in, some more than others, but to experience and its many forms was something rather undesirable. Thus for Travis, now a Scholar, would soon come to know and witness this concept on more than one occasion as he pursues his quest for knowledge. "So I spoke to an ebony dressed lady from the Cult of the Enlightened. We actually had a pleasant conversation until I asked about the concept of soul weaving. She laughed. Her fur coat cried. Suffice to say, I left in a hurry." Despite his humble demeanor, surprisingly as an Untalent, Travis is certainly not afraid to speak his mind and express his views when necessary, sometimes comical or sarcastic if it benefits the mood. Being an easily fascinated and curious sort, he takes his role as a Scholar by heart (if not seriously) and seeks knowledge whenever he can find it; until it gets him into trouble. Nonetheless, he does show great pride and devotion to his line of work, atypical as it may be. Travis can sometimes be described as a pacifist or "pass-the-fist" as he himself describes it. He sees no need for violence and certainly rejects the notion of killing but acknowledges the need for self-defense if he cannot negotiate his way out of a troubling confrontation. Of course said confrontations are usually created by something he may have said or done without any harmful or insulting intent. "When the going gets tough...See to it you're not where the tough goes."</s> <|message|>Raiya Mamushi Raiya watched as the event unfolded. Travis was obviously shaken by the dud gunshot, and justifiably so. But a moment after he came to his senses, Travis had retrieved the paragon from the grasp of the weak skeleton husk. The skeleton let out an objection that sounded more like scolding. It was then Raiya realized that they knew next to nothing about where they were or what they were up against. Instantly, the skeleton folded into a singularity that threatened to pull the whole group in with it. After Nemo's explanation, it all clicked. The cleanliness of the temple rooms, the gold that smelled right but with no dust or signs that it had been sitting there for hundreds of years. It was all because they were inside a projection, some sort of advanced stasis field projected by the paragon itself. And without the original user interfacing with the paragon, the advanced construct began to fold in on itself. "Guys... if the paragon constructed all of this inside a dimensional pocket, then what is going to happen when this all collapses without the original user? What's going to happen to us?" Raiya asked as the gale force winds whipped around her, pulling her closer to the center of the room. "Is this whole island a construct of the paragon? Are we going to get tossed back into the ocean?" Raiya asked frantically. Not knowing how to swim herself, Raiya did not like the thought of being plopped in the middle of a raging sea again. And, without someone like Felix to open a portal for them, she wasn't sure how long even an experienced swimmer could last in the middle of even a calm sea. Raiya's mana was still mostly drained, and fatigue had already set in from her battle. Dying in the middle of an ocean did not sound pleasant, but Raiya wasn't even sure if there was any option at this point.</s> <|message|>Nemo "Xero" Smiley Nemo shuffled back after losing traction on the ground and sliding forward. "Well... the last thing Samuel Croft was doing before using the Paragon was sinking. If an lush island was his fantasy land, one would expect land was something he was surely lacking in his final moments." Nemo replied. By this point the dark navy orb had grown twice as tall as Nemo himself, and with width to match. Parts of the stone wall began to tear off and get sucked inside from the sheer pulling force it had gained. "But, I suppose there's only one way to find out, huh?" He asked, looking at no one in particular. Nemo glanced over to Travis. "Whatever happens, please keep a good grip on the paragon... and my shotgun as well." He said, before letting out a laugh and sliding forward. The pull of the orb caught him even more the closer he got, causing Nemo to slide-skate even faster with his boots across the floor and right into the waiting magic orb. He disappeared immediately inside. The black hole soon increased in size more rapidly now that it was feeding off from the walls. Within seconds it would become too much to bare anymore. Fighting the pull was futile.</s> <|message|>Zuri Zuri watched as Travis took the paragon out of the skeleton's hand. What followed was the feeling of dispair when the small ball of energy formed and started sucking everything, starting from the skeleton's ribs getting torn right off into the void. The force of the void was growing stronger and larger, even though she was constantly backing off, running was not an option as the power soon became way too strong to fight, and even if she could use her powers, it seemed futile as she would rather die with her teammates than to be a lone survivor. Zuri watches as Nemo gets taken in, and since she was clueless on what it does, the safest bet was to assume he's gone. "It was nice knowing all of you.." she mumbles to herself before she creates a large kiteshield using the same technique that was used for her armour before she runs towards the void and jumps into it before disappearing right into it, holding the shield closely with her to soften the impact if there was anything beyond this point of no return.</s> <|message|>Travis McGrath Travis glanced at Nemo with a scowling look, having caught his teammate emanating amusement at his unpleasant tribulation. He had a few unprofessional words in mind for the white haired Talent but as fate would have it, his attention would be drawn back to unwelcomed presence of Samuel Croft, apparently still filled life; whatever was left of it. Travis felt the instinctive urge to spin around and blast the skeleton away the moment he registered Samuel's voice. That desire however dissipated upon him registering Samuel decrying his action as a damning consequence. Before Samuel could follow-up any further, his skeletal remains were suddenly engulfed by a rapidly growing sphere of darkness. Travis could immediately feel the vacuum-like effect of the unexpected anomaly and scrambled away from in before joining the rest of his team. As the sphere expanded and consumed more of its surrounding's like a micronized black hole, it was Nemo who had figured out its uncanny arrival. Just as he pointed out, the vegetation of the island was devoid of mana despite their normal and natural appearance. While Travis himself didn't notice that fact, it nevertheless seemed relevant given the structures on the island they ventured through were unnaturally untouched by time. And now that the Paragon removed from Samuel's influence, the spell that projected the entire island was now deconstructing and it was becoming harder to resist its pull. However, it seemed the developing void before them may not be as life-threatening as was previously perceived. Raiya and Nemo concluded that the island was summoned out of the desires of the late Samuel Croft as an attempt to save himself from ultimately drowning. Drowning being the keyword, meaning that there would have been a body of water present for such a fate to occur. As evident by Raiya's worried deduction, the moment they or the island become overtaken by the ever-expanding void, whichever came first, they would be ejected back into ocean. It wasn't a thrilling thought given what they had endured hours ago but there was no alternative present and Travis could very much feel that the pull of the degrading spell was becoming too much to resist. With that said, Nemo, unsurprisingly, volunteered to fall into the rift, but not after advising Travis to ensure the Paragon and his gun were fastened, alluding to the inevitable and fast approaching circumstance were the Untalent himself would need to succumb to the spell's pull as well. For a moment, Travis was half-expecting a visually violent outro for Nemo being overtaken by the expending sphere though as with Rutger's unsecured corpse, he un-climatically phased out of existence. After Nemo came Zuri taking her own plunge as well, leaving only Travis and Raiya remaining. Per Nemo's suggestion, Travis slid the Paragon into a secured compartment within his trench coat and held onto the shotgun tightly while wrapping its holder band around his upper body. As soon as he figured he was ready, he glanced back at Raiya with an unsure expression, "See ya on the side I suppose," he said, giving the phrase, a duel meaning before forfeiting his balance and jumping into the collapsing spell.</s> <|message|>Raiya Mamushi Raiya wanted to resist, but ultimately, she decided it was an effort in futility. If indeed the entire island was a construct of the paragon, that meant that even if she were to successfully run away from the singularity, it would eventually grow to consume everything within the constructed parameter. This also meant that the only way out was in. This concept was very unfortunate for Raiya, she knew what awaited them was a unforgiving body of salt water at the other end of that singularity. Unable to swim Raiya, and the salt water also sapping her mana and energy, she would be completely limp and useless. Unless one of her teammates did something, the end result would be her demise at the hands of a cruel sea. Still feeling drained from her encounter with Father Stockton, she didn't have the energy to fight the singularity even if she wanted to. After about 30 seconds, Raiya relented and folded her arms in surrender, letting her body go slack and allowing the singularity to draw her in. The suction force eventually swept her up through the air, she tumbled for about five seconds before being consumed by the singularity.</s> <|message|>Nemo "Xero" Smiley What awaited Nemo and the group once they crossed into the sphere was both visions of pitch black and a tingling cold feeling as they floated weightlessly through the void. Nemo began to wonder if he was still alive as the dark drew on past the twenty second mark. Suddenly, out nowhere, he was hit by the abrupt audio of the sea and the feeling of wind on his pale skin, followed by blurry vision slowly returning. However before it could, the weightlessness was ended when he crashed into the cold sea. Although for Nemo the cold wasn't much of a drawback, it was a much more welcome feeling compared to the jungle from before. Nemo swam back up and breached the surface of the water. By this point his vision had returned, and he was graced with the sight of water in every direction. It was getting dark now as well, he could no longer spot the sun in the horizon. Nemo looked back, seeing a distorted space in the air about twenty feet up. Seconds later Zuri popped out of it and landed in the sea, followed by Travis, and finally Raiya. Nemo remembered their earlier encounter with water and quickly began to swim over. By the time he reached her position, she clearly wasn't above water anymore. Nemo submerged himself and found her sinking. He quickly swam further down and hooked an arm around her midsection and paddled back up to breech them both above water. Nemo remained silent, only breathing steadily to calm his body and paddling to keep them afloat as he plotted his next move. "Is everyone alright?" He asked, breaking the silence as he thought. "...Is my shotgun alright too?" He added after a few moments, sounding genuinely worried.</s>
<|message|>Travis McGrath For a short while, Travis only saw darkness and heard the faint resonating echoes of unfamiliar sounds all around him. He tried looking around, searching for Nemo and Zuri ahead of him and Rayia to his rear. Unfortunately, he had very little to go by and even questioned if he was being flung forwards or backwards as he felt the spell's tidal forces sent him hurdling through the empty space he was consumed by. Eventually, a light penetrated the blackness, followed by a loud and abrupt noise that filled Travis' ears. The momentarily weightlessness he experienced soon faded back to the just control of gravity as he sensed his body taking a steep uncontrolled drop. His sight would quickly return seconds later, allowing him to see a wall of water fast approaching. Travis's couldn't help but let out a yelp as he frantically placed his hands in front of his face. Once more, the roar of the ocean died down into a muffled distortion as he involuntarily broke through the exterior of the water. He sank below the waves briefly but Travis soon regained control of his body and frantically swam back to the surface and gasped for air upon breaching the surface. It didn't take long for Nemo, keeping Raiya afloat, along with Zuri to group back with him. Per Nemo's query, Travis looked over to him all the while ensuring he was able to keep himself suspended at the oceans surface, "I-I'm okay..." After that, Nemo followed up by asking the condition of his weapon he trusted Travis with. "Um," Travis began as he look over his shoulder and eyed the firearm, "drenched? Other than that, it looks fine."</s>
<|description|>Nicole Cognoscenti The Mundane Age: 17 Sanctum City: Hasta Description: Nicole is a girl of average height, a slender build, and irrepressible good cheer to cram inside it. Blue-eyed and always grinning, her sharp features are framed by scarlet hair, cut fashionably to the bottom of her neck with bangs that occasionally fall into her eyes. Hasta is one of the world's most fashionable Sanctum Cities, with all but its poorest denizens dressed beautifully in casual, flowing fashions and bright colors. Nicole is no exception, although she does her best to dress fashionably casual. Whether oversized hoodies or cropped tops, tight jeans or her school uniform's skirt, one of her only sartorial mainstays is the peach colored tassel scarf she's almost always thrown haphazardly around her neck. Sometimes she'll top her head in a cute little beret. Personality: A laid-back and cheerful girl who always tries her best at everything. Nicole may not be the most zealous fighter or the most charismatic presence, but she's a stabilizing force among what may otherwise be a chaotic ensemble of students. She exudes a quiet calm about most things, a playful energy often expelled through practical jokes, and a willingness to laugh at herself and others. She's grown up into a fairly privileged life and tries to keep that knowledge in the back of her mind, so it allows her some measure of empathy for other girls who may not have had it as easy as she did. It makes her a solid, unifying presence among friend groups and just a generally good time to be around. Though she plays it close to the chest, Nicole is a deeply idealistic, romantic girl, with notions of true love and eternal good vibes that she tries not to espouse too often. She has a headful of dreams about some kind of nebulous "better life," although what that life would be like and how it would be an improvement over her own free-flowing existence is something she hasn't quite figured out. Background: Nicole was born among the upper middle class of the beautiful, fashionable, (sort of) sunny Sanctum City of Hasta. One of the cultural capitals of the world, her childhood was cosmopolitan and largely peaceful, with a large pool of friends across all walks of life. Her parents did what they could to shelter her through much of her childhood, but they were politically active people, often taking up the causes of the downtrodden and unfortunate who were unable to share in Hasta's joys. Eventually, as she grew older, Nicole came to share their passion for altruism. For a time, like most girls, she dreamed that she was a secret princess - some long-lost member of a Duodecim family, someone who could achieve great heights and make a difference in a scary world. Eventually, she had given up on that dream and resolved to make change in meaningful, realistic ways somehow. It was realizing her magical potential at the age of thirteen that helped give her a sense of wonder again, made her dream of stopping Voids and serving as a paragon for all the world's helpless - someone with the power to make people listen. Having decided her dream was worth pursuing once again, in a decidedly more fantastical direction this time, Nicole applied to Nova Lux Academy with stars in her eyes, and was overjoyed to be accepted. --- The Magic Armgaus Name: Twinkling Scarlet Emerald Gladius: Vedfolnir A blued steel sabre balanced to Nicole's hand, with a small, polished chunk of red beryl at the hilt. Its size belies the potential reach of the blade, as combined with her Elementum Nicole's slashes can seem to extend three times longer than the length of the blade would suggest. Parma: Nicole's eyes and hair glow a brighter orange, her skin begins to twinkle slightly, and she wears an all-white ensemble of her normal beret, a midriff baring top and shorts, with thigh high boots and a holster. Elementum: Wind Elementum Abilities: In keeping with her elementum and her own breezy personality, Nicole has a great degree of agility and levity, often joking that she can dodge any attack thrown at her as long as she's not feeling lazy. It may not be an entirely empty boast; though not a particular powerhouse, her agility makes her a capable duelist with her sabre. She can also use her ability to make great leaps, bordering on sustained flight if she can keep her concentration - although doing so obviously limits her effectiveness in combat.</s> <|message|>Penny Grenoble Penny feels the airship tremble again. She's never ridden an airship before, so she's not entirely sure if this is normal or not, but the other girls seem to notice it with unease. It makes Penny nervous as a result. Vanna's explanation answers Penny pretty well, but... 'Somehow, I get the feeling I've been insulted,' she thinks, trying to read Vanna's expression. It's just the tone of the answer, aloof yet somehow condescending. It annoys Penny - but somehow, she shouldn't really be upset. She at least should have read up on the Academy for the two years she's been waiting to get transferred, so she wouldn't look like some clueless hick from the boonies, but it's a bit late for that now. She resolves to study hard once they get there, and prove her worth. "I'll say you have," Penny answers Vanna in resignation. Dana's response earns an odd response from Penny. She assumes an expression of mock annoyance, and looks at the cheerful girl. "Oh really?" she asks in mock challenge. "Mind telling me why you think Gunslinger Alexa is better? I mean, Altea has the more meaningful character arcs, if you ask me. "Also, how many sisters do you have? I've got three - and three brothers too."</s> <|message|>Dana Noel "Yeah, I guess you're right about that," Dana conceded in response to Penny's observation that Altea had better character arcs than her own favorite show. "At least, if you're only talking about the first season," she added with a grin. "Season two took a really deep look at a lot of Alexis's emotional vulnerabilities, especially her until-then unrequited love for her best friend. But that's not really the reason why I love her show," Dana continued. "It's mainly because of all the crazy, hyperkinetic action and cool designs for characters, vehicles, monsters, and all that stuff! Then there's all the comedy too! It's just really fun to watch! I mean, what other show has the main character go up against a biomechanical titan the size of a sanctum city in the first few minutes of the very first episode?!" It was clear to see that Dana was getting even more excited than usual just thinking about it, but she quickly shifted gears when Penny voiced a new question. "Oh, uh, sisters? Yeah, I have four," Dana replied. "They're all older than me, though, which is fine, cause they're all really encouraging and supportive. The perfect big sisters!" she added with a giggle. "What are your sisters like?"</s> <|message|>Penny Grenoble "See, that's it, isn't it?" Penny says with an air of academic discussion. "Altea's more... well, I suppose there's no better for it without sounding condescending, so let's say 'dark' and 'grounded'. The setting is everyday, she's more relateable as an everyday person, and while it does have more fantasy elements it still has a darker tone to it regarding loss and sacrifice. Alexis is, well, bubbly and energetic, and it takes almost halfway into season two to really start the character development going. I'd say the episode when they bring in Pretty Soldier Glenda, but she's a red herring at first to properly set up the rivalry with Alex..." She pauses, then turns to face Dana. "Okay, fine, I watch Gunslinger Alexis whenever I could," she admits, "but I'll take Altea over it anyday. Not saying it's bad, just saying I prefer mine. "As for my sisters, well, we got the twins Liz'n'Liz - that's Elizabeth and Melissa - as the oldest, older than me by almost two years, I'm the one they had after, and then there's Nessa, she's ten and the youngest daughter, but David's the youngest and he's eight. Liznliz - yeah, we just put the two together most of the time - they're tomboys, and they can be a pain sometimes, but they're pretty cool and helpful most of the times. They're couriers, so they taught me how to rollerblade; they're really good at it. And Nessa's just a daddy's girl and a real sweetheart. I'm the one stuck being the responsible kid in the family most of the time..."</s> <|message|>Nicole Cognoscenti --- Yikes. I guess people aren't into goth girls because they're chatty, right? Nicole let it be for now, half because she was trying to decide whether or not she dug Astrelle's vibes, too, and half because she was currently wondering whether invoking the name of a crashed airship onboard one currently in flight was, itself, a case of bad vibes. She gulped down the nibble of sandwich she was working on - just in case they were really crashing, so she wouldn't have to die with food in her mouth like a slob - and, when the turbulence settled itself, took a bite of another. In the absence of the Wing of Justice, the girls started to talk to themselves about daytime cartoons and their families, in the same breath. It was interesting hearing everyone's backgrounds and perspectives. They were all so alien to Nicole. The vibe philosopher finally set down her sandwich and chimed in, a little sheepishly. "I guess I'm the weirdo," she explained. "I was an only child, and uh..." She looked around, especially between Penny and Dana. "I don't really know what you're talking about with Alexis and Glenda or whoever. I'm an Eradicator II: See You in Hell kinda girl."</s> <|message|>Penny Grenoble "Oh, yeah, I know that one," Penny says with a chuckle. "Liznliz watched the whole series, though you ask me, it really went downhill after the fifth. The second, though, that's a classic. "So Nichole, you're from Hasta right?" she continues, pressing the conversation. "I hear some still call it by its old name, Paris. It's kind of interesting, because most Sanctum Cities generally just go by their official names these days. Is it really the City of Lights? I've seen a few pics on the 'Web whenever the connection gets through, and I'd have to say it's beautiful. I'm surprised you still have a building that's centuries old in the middle of your city, I think it's pretty cool!"</s>
<|message|>Nicole Cognoscenti Nicole grinned at Penny's enthusiasm. She guessed that if her image of Hasta came from what she was able to see on the Web, it was understandable how it would seem like paradise. Hell, it was paradise. Coming where she'd come from, more privileged than most but not as well-off as some, it was hard not to feel almost...almost like she was living within a snow globe. Just an everyday girl going about her life beneath lights that were always perfect, and so never felt the need to change. "It is pretty cool," she agreed, winking at the other girl. "But not exactly like what you might see online. The reality is that heritage buildings like that, especially ones that survived from the old days, require some real upkeep, even in this day and age. Even people who live there can't always visit. Lotta magitech goes into keeping them functioning, and there's always some support or observation deck that needs restoring every year. But yeah, prrr-etty cool. Romantic, if you ever get the chance." Here she was, giving out romantic advice like some kind of wise older sister, when the best she could do was bump knuckles with a boy she'd loved since elementary school. Romantic. Yeah. So you can do your best Eradicator impersonation and shoot finger guns at a boy when he's saying goodbye. It's basically a frickin' proposal... "It's definitely the City of Lights, too. I think it's prettiest in the rain, when you can see everything in the city fizzle. Not so great if you like to stargaze, but I never really minded. You should stick with Hasta, though," she advised knowingly. "You'll sound like a real tourist if you call it Paris, though."</s>
<|description|>Sundus Saliim Age: 23 Ranger Designation: Blue Appearance: Sundus is of Southeast Asian descent with dark skin and black hair. Her style is a classy mix of business causal (usually in the form of button up shirts) with brightly colored traditional garb (usually scarves and accessories). She dresses quite modestly. Personality:Sundus isn't the most confident individual, having been a good student most of her life. A series of failures and setbacks since entering the work force have only reinforced her timidity and lack of self-confidence. However, she has always been known to be smart and altruistic, seeking always to combine knowledge with service. And the fact that she's continued to push on despite multiple work-related obstacles is a testament to a perseverance she doesn't think she has. She tends to shrink from social confrontations, preferring to preserve relationships rather than 'prove herself right', but she faces intellectual challenges with gusto. She is also Muslim, and believes that her faith only strengthens her ability to be objective and to think critically. Background:The daughter of Muslim, Indonesian parents, Sundus was taught from a very young age the importance of a good education. She grew up as a bit of a bookworm and nerd, though she did attend Taekwondo classes since her parents agreed that a young woman should know how to defend herself. While the field of robotics always fascinated her as a child, she wanted to help people, and felt that pursuing biology was the best way to go. Fast-tracking her way to an advanced degree, she managed to finish her M.S. B.S. in four years. She wanted to get her feet wet in the industry before deciding if she wanted to go for a Ph.D. or not. She explained to her professors where her interest lay, and they introduced her to a company that was trying to make a big splash in the field of cybernetic prosthetics. Unfortunately, Gaia Corp. caught wind of the small company, and quickly moved to stifle its growth, forcing Sundus to find another opportunity. Within a few short years, Sundus saw this same pattern repeat itself a few times, and kept hopping from one job to another. In the end, she always finds herself moving back in with her parents, frustrated. At this point, she is afraid of working for a giant like Gaia Corp. because in her mind, ruthless business tactics did not align with a company culture of benefiting the greater population, and is seriously considering just going back to school and getting her Ph.D., and doing academic research instead, where the long arm of Gaia corp. can't reach. At least, that was until a package for Gaia Corp. accidentally lands at her feet. Will she be able to work together with the company she despises to save the world?</s> <|message|>Reginald Patrick Jameson III (Reggie James) Reggie "'Ey mon, I'm gonna go out for a bit, you got dis?" Reggie asked one of his employees at the register, who nodded his response. "Thanks mon, I'll be back in a few minutes, just need to take da edge off, if ya know what I'm sayin' mon." he said with a chuckle and a wink, heading out through his office and into the back door. As he pulled the joint from behind his ear, and lighter out of his pocket, he noticed his little raptor buddy, Zakutor, follow him out of his office and get up onto his shoulder. "Ya been behavin' yourself Zak?" he asked his toy-like dino as he lit the joint and took a drag. The little dino nodded and Reggie laughed and said "Good on ya mon!" Just then, his phone went off and he checked to see it was his father. "Captain buzzkill strikes again." he said, hitting ignore and putting his phone back in his pocket. He took a drag, feeling the weed's calming effects wash over him. It was then that he noticed a swam of insects flying around "Da fuck is goin' on mon?" he swore under his breath. Just then, Zakutor leapt off his shoulder and began chasing after the swarm. "Shit, Zak, where do ya think you're goin' mon!?" Reggie called out, following his little dino buddy as he chased the bugs into an alley.</s> <|message|>Lonny Theodore Harris Lonny Theodore Harris Activity: Leaving Work Partner: Gabutyra - Brave Mood: Tired --- "Aye be safe out there, LT." said a bulky man as he shuffled out the door. Lonny partly acknowledged his acquaintance with a nod. "Yea, you too man." He was clocked out a few moments later, his hands tucked in his pockets as he headed towards his unsightly car. Pieces of paint was chipped, exposing rust on the old Honda. A flash of red and yellow from several feet away bounced around in his vehicle. He smiled amused. "Come on, Brave. I told you to keep a low profile." He shuffled across the small parking lot, noticing an annoying buzz creeping from the north, soon a cloud of black insects were in the sky and moving out of sight. He paused at his door and looked up. "That's weird," he commented in his usual low tone. "They're everywhere. Better get home or at least to a McDonalds." He opened the door to slide in, only for Brave to roar a small, yet furious noise and hurry out. Lonny tried to grab him but it squeezed between his legs and started down the street. He closed his door, locked it, and chased after it. "Hold on, Brave... Brav-" he stopped, a few of his peers starting to stare. As the toy-dinosaur turned a corner down a familiar alley, Lonny came to slow halt upon seeing another toy-dinosaur. "There's more of you?" he asked himself.</s> <|message|>Manami Hayashi --- --- "Remember to get some rest before the match tomorrow night. Ricky said he had a surprise for us." Manami stood smiling at her friend/co-worker, Erica, "Knowing him it's probably just an attempt to make the title match a triple threat with his daughter added in. Anyway, I gotta go. Thanks again for coming out here to work on the match." "Hey, a three-hour drive isn't a big deal. You do it every night." "Well, hopefully not anymore. Fingers crossed this new training spot is good." Parting with a hug, after making sure no one recognized them, the two parted ways. Outside the small cafe, Manami reached into her backpack for her phone only to find Perry, her newest friend as of a few weeks ago, bouncing around as if he had been locked in a bag for about two hours. Which he had been but that didn't mean he had to mess with her things. "Move Perry. I need to check the address." Perry then leaped out of the bag onto the young woman's shoulder. This is when the young woman discovered that her phone was locked. "Perry, you have got to stop locking my phone just because I don't play with you." That's when she noticed the little dino wasn't really paying her any attention. She followed his gaze to see what appeared to be a swarm of insects. Suddenly, the little rascal darted off Manami's shoulder and in the general direction of the Angel Grove University. Manami quickly followed after doing a sort of whispered yell,"Perry, get back here. Crap!" Manami then broke out in a sprint trying to catch the troublemaking dino.</s> <|message|>Reginald Patrick Jameson III (Reggie James) Reggie As Reggie turned into the alley, finally catching up with the little green raptor, he saw a small red T-Rex enter the alley as well and heard someone running up behind him. He turned around to see a young man come around the corner, looking surprised to see him and Zak. "You too eh?" Reggie asked the man, referring to the tiny dino. He smirked and gave the guy a thumb's up before turning his attention back to his own dino. "Now why'd ya make me chase ya down dis dark ally, Zak?" he asked the little green dino. It was then that he noticed movement in the back of the alley and remembered the insects. "Dis don't look good, mon."</s> <|message|>Lonny Theodore Harris Lonny Theodore Harris Activity: Leaving Work Partner: Gabutyra - Brave Mood: Confused --- Brave flipped onto a metal trash bin, his steely snout pointed at the sky. He moved around minutely observing the growing shadow overhead. Lonny came to halt about three feet from Reggie, his hands tucked into the side pockets of his brown, rugged jacket. He wasn't hot but if it was cold he wouldn't had known, his red hoodie underneath the jacket was a natural insulator. He raised a dark brow and pursed his lips tightly, confusion pulled on his face. "Yea, me too, I guess. Brave, get down here buddy. I'm hungry... or sleepy. One of them." The casual tone that would usually elicit an immediate response hadn't budged the t-rex. He continued to look overhead, an alarming squawk resonating from its maw. Instinctively, Lonny looked up too. He could feel something between him and Brave, a connection that carried a wave of worry. Then something thumped in his chest, a radiant pulsing that he hadn't felt in years. An anxiety. He pulled a hand from his pocket and patted his hastened chest twice. "Something isn't right. I've never seen a swarm of bugs that dense. Its unnatural, ain't it?" Brave squawked, finally leaping off the thrash can and up onto his shoulder.</s>
<|message|>Sundus Saliim Sundus sat at the library computer booth, alternating between reading scientific papers to keep up with the current research, and poking and prodding at job applications. She looked awkward, with her backpack nestled on her lap, taking up the space between her chest, stomach, and the desk. She had to do this because Thag Simmons, her 'pet robot' stegosaurus, just would not stay still. Afraid to leave it out of her sight, but also afraid to be seen with it, Sundus carried it with her wherever she went. Simmons didn't like it, but Sundus didn't have any other options. She had kept it too long to be able to explain that she had simply found it, and she was afraid that if she ever got caught with it, she'd be going to prison. She could tell that this robot dinosaur belonged to Gaia Corp., what with the $10,000 reward going around. At first she wanted to keep it to spite them, then the few times she had wanted to come clean, the stegosaurus refused to be returned, desiring to stay with her instead. Now she felt like a criminal, carrying contraband with her at all times. The backpack jerked suddenly. Simmons was getting restless. Sighing, Sundus quickly saved whatever documents she was reading or working on, and logged off the computer. She could do her research and job searching at home, but it felt good to get out of the house every once in a while and not feel like a complete freeloader, living off her parents. "Alright, Simmons, you win," She whispered as she left the library. As she slung the backpack over her shoulder, she heard a loud rip, followed by the clatter of her personal belongings scattering on the library steps. She immediately bent down to catch her scattering things, noticing the little blue stegosaurus bolting away from her. "Hey! Simmons! Thag Simmons! Get back here!" Sundus yelled as if she were calling a child, but it was no use. Sundus scrambled to pick up her things, noticing that the rip in the backpack was not because of wear and tear. Fuming, she collected her things and ran after Simmons. She noted with some optimism, that he was leading her through familiar territory, the university. Simmons finally stopped in the quad and seemed agitated by something. A darkness passed overhead, forcing Sundus to look up at the cloud of bugs that was casting the shadow. Did stegosaurs eat bugs? Do robots eat? Why am I thinking about food? Sundus' mind ran wild with speculation for a moment. She went over to pick up her stressed blue dinosaur. "Don't go nuts like that again, okay? I can't let anyone see you or I'm going to jail, okay?"</s>
<|description|>Ludmilla Alunyna. Did you figure that out yourself? Drawing is a work-in-progress. (Picture) Transformed. Age: 17 Appearance: Ludmilla is not exactly a traditional picture of beauty, with her wide mouth with far too many teeth in it, and her dirty blonde hair that looks like somebody coloured a rainbow in shades of brown and yellow. She's tall, and broad shouldered, too, measuring at 1.80 and 70 kilograms. And she needs a haircut and a change of clothes to not look like she's been living rough, which admittedly wasn't far from the truth. Her magical girl costume shares little with the traditional magical girl look, being based on what Ludmilla found cool at the time. The soul gem is greyish-red, and forms the glass in her sunglasses. Nationality: Bulgarian, and ethnically serb.. Ludmilla has not connection to Danzig and no reason to stay there for any length of time. In her eyes, she's simply passing through. Personality: Ludmilla, or Milly to her friends, is a sweet, caring young woman with an outgoing personality and slight awkward manner. Recently, she's been trying to distance herself from her magical girl self, acting pettier, more short tempered and childish while transformed. Milly's curious about little things, often pausing in shop windows or staring at people in busses trying to work out what they're doing, and standing stock still for hours if an interesting thought strikes her. Afflictions: Knows the truth about magical girls. Wish: "I want to be seen. I want to be adored and admired by like, everyone." The wish gave her enhanced charisma, as well as attracting everyone's attention to her constantly. Biography: Ludmilla grew up in a post-w prefabricated apartment complex with two hard-earning parents who loved and cared for her very much but never seemed to talk to her. She grew up quickly, always relatively tall for her age and never suffering a day of illness in her life. She read magazines, had friends over for lunch and seemed well on track to becoming a productive member of society, before the bunnycat came to her promising his deal. At first it was fun. Lording over the groundlings, flying through the air as magic Uma Therman, creating light and illusion out of your fingers, she lived the dream. Then witches started to show up, and become more then just a trend. Then a second magical girl appeared in the area, with far more prestige and skill and it was all she could do to run out of the city with a change of clothes in a duffel bag over her shoulder. Since then she's been living the transient life, relying entirely on an old credit card kept topped up by her mother for food and water and other necessary supplies. Good old mum. Never been quite the same since dad died. That was five years ago. She's seen a lot of Europe in the intervening time, gotten very older and a little bit wiser and keeping her head down as far as the whole magical girl business. Met some very nice people, some who tried to kill her in her sleep Skills: Street smarts, primary school academic knowledge and a lot of useless just she got from hanging around libraries across Europe. Threads of Fate: 5 - Average magical girl strength. Magical Weapon: Shields. Big, white, oblong, slightly curved like a pringles chip, and sharp at the edges, these weapons are unwieldy but useful if applied well. Ludmilla likes to keep one in each hand, plus a third strapped to her back for protection. Experience: (Originally 3 plus 1 due to age modifier) 4. Enough to know the truth about magical girls. Magical Ability:The ones she has the hang of involve creating little constructs of light and becoming a human projector, shooting light out of things. There's a theoretical upper limit to the amount of light she can create, or from how far away, but she's never managed it yet. She's also capable of creating crude light constructs, little holograms of physical objects, like little holograms. If she really concentrates, she can even get things like colour right. Of course, they're not real. Just tricks of the light. Core abillity: Creating Light. Secondary abillity 1: Shooting light beams out of her hands or body Secondary abillity 2: Action at a distance, shooting light out of places other then her own fingers. Secondary abillity 3: Creating light-based holograms or constructs. Signature and Finisher: None as of yet. ██████: 15%</s> <|message|>Minerva Meyer, or "Minnie" to friends. ---Familiar "Keeeh~?" The bulging Familiar seemed to notice it was being attacked again, as its closest pursuer blitzes forwards with the full extent of her magically-enhanced speed. It pulls its tail close to its body, slowing its movements slightly as it hurtles downwards, wall to its right. When Megumi comes through the barrier, chains swinging in an attempt to capture it, the creature reacts immediately. Fortunately, this Familiar's single redeeming quality in life was that it was good at escaping. Just as Megumi's first chain approaches from the side, its tail shoots out, suddenly propelling the Familiar to the side. At the same time, another storm of school supplies shoots from its body, flying in the general direction of its new attacker. The high-velocity junk, while virtually harmless, serves as a distraction to cover for its escape. It's also probably really annoying. Nobody likes being hit with erasers. Spiraling through the air, the creature fluffs its body up again as it approaches the other alleyway wall, striking it at an angle and fluffing outwards, instantly recovering with another lightning-quick bounce in the other direction. Zigzagging like this, it adjusts its trajectory and continues its jaunt towards the nearby roadway. And just like that, it was there- "Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiii~!" The Familiar screeches cheerfully, hurtling past the outskirts of the abandoned area and into populated space once again. With the incredible density of people around the main roadways, it was only natural that immediately upon approaching the street, three humans are sucked into and trapped within the Familiar's flimsy barrier. It makes its choice, and spirals wildly, hurtling itself towards the nearest human. It was clear what its intention was at this point. At the same time, Salomea would notice the distinctive sensation of a Witch being almost on top of her. Directly across the street from her, she could probably see the edge of the monster's barrier encroaching on the sidewalk, sucking in a couple of passerby before stopping there, dangerously close to the crowd. ---Minerva Minerva runs at the height of her ordinary speed, trying to catch up with the blazing speed of Megumi and the Familiar, who already had quite a head start. At her own pace, however, she does manage to catch up with Frederica in time to offer a hasty greeting. "Hi. You must be another girl... I didn't expect there to be so many of us! It's quite jarring, considering I didn't even know there were other Magical Girls until a few minutes ago. Haha..." She smiles at the older girl, and then stares ahead frowning. "They sure are fast... hey, it looks like the Familiar or whatever is almost at the street. Isn't that bad?" She considers their environment, noting the proximity to large crowds of people, and figuring that it was a bad idea to be fighting a Witch so close to humans. Although, maybe if this was just a Familiar, it wasn't so bad? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was being left behind on her first Witch Hunt ever. And she didn't like it.</s> <|message|>Frederica Bernhardt Frederica Bernhardt Danzig, In pursuit of the Familiar. The familiar wasn't dead yet. That much was clear, for it seemed to be barreling towards people in the city. Not exactly something she would have liked to happen, especially since her best weapon wasn't suited for fighting with normal people around. "Hi. You must be another girl... I didn't expect there to be so many of us!" It was another girl, another Magical Girl, who had spoke to her. One that was, upon turning her head to have a proper look, very young from her looks. It would seem Kyubey was with her as well. Frederica would have dearly loved to stop and pet it, but she had a more pressing matter at the moment. Should the one that had dashed off botch this one up, several people could be in danger. "It's quite jarring, considering I didn't even know there were other Magical Girls until a few minutes ago. Haha..." Frederica stopped dead in her tracks at that. It was quite strange. She had told herself again and again, only her mission mattered, only her DESTINY, her FATE would take priority. But still, she was unable to just leave one so obviously inexperienced, so obviously young, so obviously oblivious, to learning how cruel the fate she had chosen really was. "They sure are fast... hey, it looks like the Familiar or whatever is almost at the street. Isn't that bad?" "Yes." That brilliant smile. She closed her eyes for a moment, before turning to the girl and speaking more. "Keep close." With that she put a hand on the girl's shoulders, no more than a tap, before continuing on her way towards the familiar. "If the familiar feeds, we're going to have to deal with another witch."</s>
<|message|>Ludmilla Alunyna. Did you figure that out yourself? Ludmilla walked through the fair, glancing at knickknacks, perusing second hand books, trawling through odd sets of clothes that needed a better home. She'd made a complete circuit, feigning interest at all of the stallowners, acting like what they were hawking was interesting. But everytime she looked up, she didn't see the figure in green on the clocktower. It was uncanny. She'd not see it from one corner of the street to the other, when she openly looked and tried to catch it in the corner of her eye, even while she stared into the reflection of a shop window. Which must mean only one thing. The girl was hiding. Well, two could play at that game. She, 'Milly, dabbed at her eye with the crumpled up napkin and tossed it neatly into a rubbish bin. She stooped down, like she was going to pick up a coin, and placed three fingers onto the cobblestone streets. This would have to be done quickly and sneakily, or she'd be swamped by people asking to know what was going on. It was the 21st century, so she probably wouldn't be ran out of town as witch by an angry mob of farmers with pitchforks, but you never knew with rural folk. The magic spread out of her fingers, joining up with each other as the triangle at her fingertips slowly became more tangible, more physical, more real. It solidified in the air, the inside colouring and developing like a polaroid, becoming glossy and reflective, until a perfect little shard of mirror was in her hands. And through it, she could see herself reflected and over her shoulder, right on the gothic architecture, was... She'd remember what happened next extremely vividly. Even in the chaos that had ensued, she'd remember fragments of it, usually after waking up at four in the morning with a fever tangled up in her pyjamas and screeching like a banshee. There had been a flute player, off in the distance, with a hat on the floor for people to throw pennies in. He'd been doing a roaring trade. In her mind, that man became like a pied-piper figure, attracting all the good little girls for miles around and wrecking havoc to such an innocent little hamlet. They poured out of the alleyway, one after another, following a witch's barrier on legs as the thing bounded out of the air. It didn't move into the street proper, but the thing managed to suck up two old men like the last suds in a milkshake. But that wasn't the scary part. The scary part was the veritable army of magically enhanced youths following along behind it. They came in all shapes and sizes, tall, short, young and even younger. Each and every one dressed like the prettiest girl in the quinceñera. Several were carrying weapons of various shapes and sizes. One had strapped a cannon to her back, several more had knives and bows and hammers aplenty. And, unlike the witch that had appeared in the alley mouth (Didn't witch's barriers usually stick to walls? Whatever, it wasn't important, maybe this wasn't that kind of witch) there was no way of passing this off as some kind of collective hallucination, or trick of the light. Even in the little bubble of slowed down shocked-o-vision Ludmilla was in, people were turning their heads and dropping items as the witch's barrier towered in the alley's mouth and coming right for her. Speaking of. The thing lunged at her. She felt the tug of it, the drawing in, the irresistible pull as it tried to bring her into its labyrinth. She lunged out of the way, falling and rolling up under the taco stand. No wonder the thing was empty. The poles were uncomfortable with chips, let alone food from some far flung nation whose only claim to fame was Che Guevarra. Under the save haven of the stand, she could hear the screams, yells, and other paraphernalia of fun times. She stayed for as long as she could down there, thinking about her next move. Danzig was a bust, she could tell already. A Walpurgisnacht waiting to happen, with that motley little crew doing their thing. Kyubey must have done well around here. Obviously, she wasn't needed. She'd heard Crakovia was nice at this time of year. Warm, stuffy bookstores with inattentive custodians and few witches to fight, that was all she wanted. She lay under the stand, hiding and most certainly not transformed, waiting for the noise to die down</s>
<|description|>Hector Sea Age: (actual:600+/appearance:23) Species: Lasombra Vampire Appearance: He's a rather muscular vampire standing at slightly above average height (6ft). He tends to wear a normal dark t-shirt and jeans combo in the modern nights. Personality: Brooding and taciturn, this man isn't one for small talk. One look in his eyes or seeing his powerful Obtenebration and Potence in action betrays a storied past. Hector Sea is the classic lone wolf, a man of mysterious and seductive sight who, when forced to, knows how to deal with several situations. He is a quiet contemplative person who appeals for the analysis of the situation before acting. But when he is in action, no one can stop him. Biography: In the Camarilla is a legendary figure known by his nickname, the Dark Angel. He has been around for centuries, playing a part in Camarilla activities around the world. He has recently gone into torpor and has been forgotten about by all but his deepest of enemies and greatest of friends. Now, he has returned from the bottom of the ocean, ready to impose his will onto Cainite society once more. Hector was born to parents in the Mediterranean. Growing up, he was trained for a career as a Navy man by his father. He was known for being the most talented of his family and for his hand to hand combat skills. He was quickly picked out of his siblings as heir for his self control and strength of will. However, it was his talents that lead to his family's downfall. He was picked out by a Lasombra Methuselah for an embrace, going after the Navy family. Hector's sire killed everyone in Hector's family and placed the blame on Hector, making him a target for the Navy. Hector was embraced as his only tool for survival in the predicament. A 6th gen Lasombra vampire, Hector became a Sabbat vampire and a pirate. His formidable Shadow Powers and brute strength (along with many other disciplines he's learned) led him to commandeer his own pirate ship, where he robbed and looted a fortune to becoming a bourgeoisie in the old world. Like many Lasombra, he hunted for power in the ranks of the Sabbat and became a Ductus of clan members, having the title of Dark Angel. However, Hector never believed in the antediluvians like most Sabbat (although he did believe they existed) and believed Gehenna was never going to come. He had many orders from the Sabbat to hunt possible antediluvians and their relics, but he never followed through. Eventually, he decided to leave the Sabbat altogether as he did not agree with their goals. As a Lasombra Antitribu, he has been hunted down by the Sabbat to no avail. He has taken down many Sabbat shovelheads and has gone across the New World and the Old World over the centuries keeping to himself, enjoying his treasures and the new technology of the ages and killing Sabbat who are after him. He eventually met Sebastian Lacroix and became friends with him, admiring his skill for rising through the ranks and his Dominance that was a match for his own. Through him, he got the goodwill to join the Camarilla and was one of the main dominating forces of the Camarilla on the seas. However, he was badly injured at some point and entered torpor and was resting at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean until now, adrift at sea he landed on the shore of Santa Monica and into the embraces of his former ally Lacroix. Supporting Characters: Lacroix, his old connection into the Camarilla and along with the Sheriff, helped to establish their presence in the Camarilla.</s> <|message|>Simone Alphonse Collaboration with Letter Bee Lucas Lee would not shared how he learned this fact, but one of the indistinguishible lowrises in Santa Monica's sprawling office parks held something different. If you approached at the right hour and told the security guard the right phrase, he'd lead you to an empty office, perfect for having a conversation with the technological equivalent of a ghost. Lee would sit down on the available chair, and wait for the local Technocrat's projection to manifest. After a pause, the Episcopalian Bishop would then say: "I found a new type of what your faction would call a 'Reality Deviant'. Are you interested?" The flickering image the machine in the corner projected had little color or details, making it look like the figure was in silhouette. Looking at the build it appeared female, but anything more specific was tough to discern from the darkness. She spoke "We value information, but each item is only worth so much. If I had more time I'd refer you to some of Shannon's theorems, but my agenda is rather busy. Much of what we know is private, if you are claiming to have found something unknown to us and significant, I am willing to discuss this matter further." Lee nodded, and pulled out a dossier from his robe, holding it up to what he presumed was a scanner in the conference table. The reason he didn't use a USB was because the Technocracy might mistake it for a mystic cyberattack. This dossier contained data about Lucas, his exorcisms, and his powers. Not merely that, but also contained were an account of Priscilla's encounter with the cult of Cidhal...written before Prisicilla even reported it to her superior. "Basically, a new type of sapient supernatural who can suck 'Demons' into himself and destroy them, and manifest Light. He also has attracted the attention of demon cultists and a Vampire," Lee summarized. "Significant enough?" The figure absorbed the information unnaturally fast, pausing for only a moment before replying. "What you have given us is interesting, though we will verify it to root out any falsehoods present. I will admit, it deals with matters that have been recieving less resources at present. Are there other matters you wish to discuss?" "Currently, the Camarilla are more powerful than us Traditions, and thus more of a threat, am I right?" was Lee's answer. "I will not comment on matters regarding our current strategic position. We remain interested in the activities of both groups" she said A nod from Lee, before he said, "Well, all I'll just say is that we've received...news that the Camarilla are preparing something major, something that might cause a war between the varied factions of bloodsuckers in the city. Not to be optimistic, but they might be exposing themselves to cracks in their structure..." She had another short response. "We are monitoring the situation. If you have anything related to that matter, I invite you to share it now." "The Camarilla have acquired an ancient relic, the Ankaran Sarcophagus, which, despite their disavowal of 'Noddist' Legends, they think contains an Antedelluvian," Lee spoke plainly. "Thank you for being willing to share with us. Is there anything else you know about this matter" She replied, again showing little emotion. "Nothing more," Lee was sincere; although it was unknown if he would have told anything more if he knew. He then checked his watch, before saying, "I think I used up my free hours; there's a sermon I have to preach soon." "Once again, thank you. You may leave the same way you came. If you wish to reach us again, ask the security guard for your phone on your way out." She finished, knowing that the guard had not asked for his phone in the first place.</s> <|message|>Hector Sea Hector Sea Hector stepped out into the parking lot and located his car, fumbling around with the keys and unlocking the door. Hector entered the car and located the ignition, and pressed the key first the wrong way and then the right way into it. This would be his first time driving a car, but he had ridden in one before and was given lessons in how to drive courtesy of the Camarilla. Hector enjoyed the new technology of the ages, but he needed some time to get acclimated. He put his feet on the gas pedal and the car exploded forward, Hector slammed on the brakes and went slower on the gas next time. He worked his way out of the parking lot and headed out into the road. Hector remembered the man with no mouth, and that he was being targeted by the cult. Hector drove out back to the warehouse, and went to were the man was being held. He activated his Auspex while touching some of his blood on the floor, and saw a vision of a scarfed man sitting in a church. Hector knew where he was how to find him. He headed out back to his car, but saw something strange on his way there. There was a woman with scales, horns, a tail and wings overlapping a normal looking figure. Hector found this to be bizarre, this was a supernatural he had never occurred in his 600 years of life. He approached, cautiously, and said: "Excuse me, but what are you?"</s> <|message|>Elleonora Grace "Ahhmmm~~~" Elleonora made a pleased sound as she stretched her arms, leaving the building where the self defense classes took place. Today was actually payday so she now had good money in her pocket. Frankly... she was making a living albeit just enough. With the money she got from her side job as model for usually adult magazines, she somehow or other managed to keep just enough money in hand to live a good life with enough luxuries to not have the right to complain about. Well it wasn't always nice because of this dual nature of hers. She felt that half her being was content with this life and the other half hungered for something way greater. She had decided never to complain though, so she simply took life as it was, struggling to maintain the point of equilibrium. Best thing was that she could take out Jane for lunch tomorrow, after paying her part of the bills. Thus in this fine night, with a smile on her face she slowly walked down the streets, just waiting to reach her favorite side alley where no one was ever present, just so she could take off and stretch her wings properly. She was currently dressed in low cut jeans and open back frilly shirt made of thin veil like material that was blowing gently by the air as she walked. Elleonora had just about reached the alleyway when she heard a voice call out to her. She turned to the side, raising an eyebrow as she faced the man who talked to her." What is it that you mea...n... ohh" She started quickly with the standard question to divert from the topic. She was pretty sure there weren't humans who can see her form, but it seemed this one was not human... This was something else. Judging by the pale skin..." Bugger..." She mumbled, making an expression of complex thinking." Frankly nothing that would concern someone like you. Or to be precise nothing that you should concern with." She stated, just in case the silly humans were listening. Not that changelings like herself were harmless, far from it. Just that she didn't want to really get involved in anything of this kind. What a bad luck for someone to randomly spot her. He must be using an ability to see through the mask. She really doubted they were looking for her in specific. She very briefly considered just bolting into the alleyway and then flying up. "Can I help you with something or you just wanted to ask that?" She asked, wanting to know before hse decides on a course of action.</s>
<|message|>Hector Sea The woman just nudged him off with a blunt remark, Hector didn't take to kindly to this. Hector's Auspex faded away as his vision returned to normal. He saw that the woman who once had wings protruding out of normal body was now just a normal woman. She must be hiding herself with something. As long as she didn't reveal the supernatural to humans, Hector didn't have a problem with her, but just in case Hector let her off with a warning. "Reveal that form to any humans and we're going to have a problem. We don't want another Inquisition on our hands, but you're probably too young to know of it." Hector said to the girl. Before she could retort to his warning, Hector dissipated into Dark Shadows and went to his car. He turned the engine on and headed for the church where Lucas was taking shelter. Hector pulled up to the driveway of the church and took a look around. It was a quaint little place, there was some greenery which you didn't usually see in L.A. Hector could hear the birds chirping-the sun was going to come up soon. He had to be quick about this. He entered the church and used Auspex, locating Lucas easily. He approached him, and as he looked into his eyes he Dominated Lucas. Hector threw a pad and a pen at him, and told him to write down everything he knew about the Demon Cult of Cidahl.</s>
<|description|>Gershwin May Age: 22 Appearance: Subject stands 160 cm (5'2") in height. Subject also has light hazel eyes with short hair to match. Abilities: Subject possesses an unobserved form of Affinity with Pain* (*Suffering?): Record has the Subject breaking a door off its hinges when it was accidentally closed on and injured her fingers. While it was evident there was damage – multiple broken phalanxes and torn skin – the injury seemed to have never happened, suggesting a Regenerative Healing Factor. The strength which she gained to break the door was hypothesized to come from her injury. The extent to which the two abilities are able to reach is unknown. Further insight is needed. History: Subject is of Gaelic origin, raised in The United Kingdom. Parents show no obvious signs of empowerment, and have therefore the hypothesis that the Subject's abilities are of a spontaneous mutation is further supported. Parents are a non-factor. Subject is a student of Department of Law in the London School of Economics and Political Science – top of her class, with multiple intern experiences with many important figures. Many people know her. Her current residence is in the central London area, alone, supported with her position of Paralegal in Yip Tse & Chiang, a Chinese-based law firm.</s> <|message|>Gershwin May One by one they fell, one by one the soldiers were shredded, torn apart, broken, bitten, pulled apart - all sorts of gruesome deaths in a theatrical performance by Gershwin May. Not even a hale of bullets from a heavy machine gun could bring her down - it did, initially, but she would just get back up and fight through as if nothing happened. She would grunt and fight her way through in an anguished pursuit to cease the pain. She felt if she killed them all... maybe her unending, immortal hell would end... --- Big Boss noted exactly the direction Subject 30 was headed. He grabbed hold of microphone of a nearby staff member - speaking into it to all nearby foot soldiers: "All units converge in Hallway A. Barricade the entrance, and prepare to fight."</s> <|message|>Cody O'Niel Cody tilted his head, as if listening to the approaching soliders. There was something different to them...he hummed to himself, pondering it for the barest of seconds. He walked into the hallway, unconcerned. The reinforcements didn't bother him. Beyond the fact that he could see their shapes, due to the light of their beings, he could hear them. Their breathing, their movement, the creak of their armor. "So...I don't imagine this is a dinner party" His voice seemed to echo, but he didn't seem to notice that. Beyond, he could hear the fighting, the violence of Gerswhin's attack. He tilted his head the other way, thoughtful. "I'm disappointed. Even now, your boss hides behind you. Is he just a coward? Afraid that he will indeed fall to me? Such a shame. Maybe he thinks I'll be weaknend and he'll win easily" He had no doubts that Big Boss could hear him. His tone was calm, and neutral, and he gave a sigh. "Oh well" He began to weave light, creating cages, still seeking to contain rather then kill, but if pressed, he would kill. As he did this, he began to form balls of light, which he shot at the reinforcements, testing right them, the extent of the reinforcements strength.</s> <|message|>Gershwin May Cody's ambient lights were the only source of illumination in the dark chamber. Around the room, soldiers were set up in successive layers, each with a specialized unit of attack. These units alternated with each other layer so that a single layer being wiped out would not be a hindrance in the attack approach. Each unit held different sources of weapons, ranging from heavy machine guns to actual artillery and mortar shots. When the light cages formed around them, the soldiers did not flinch at all. Bullets passed through them in heavy volley, and all the soldiers were now fitted with the heat-resistant heavy armour: light cages were nothing to them now, walking through them as if they were never there. Soldiers with heavy-set weapons approached Subject 30 slowly. The balls of light hit three to four of the soldiers, knocking them back to their backs. Soldiers spread out deftly and swiftly and continued their incessant fire, hoping that the repeated stress on the Subject's light armour would eventually be broken. He can't possibly handle all this stress. The knocked down soldiers were down but not out, and would slowly pick themselves back up. The approaching soldiers noted the Subject's standstill, and formed an arc around him, blocking any ground escape. They continued to pelt him with an unending supply of ammunition - which was being continuously resupplied clandestinely through resources and openings heavily reinforced. The hallway was now a fireworks display of muzzle fire and Subject 30's light.</s> <|message|>Cody O'Niel Cody was unsurprised when the shoulders escaped his light cages, protected by their armor. how many hits can they withstand? he wondered, but he was sure it was more then his own armor could withstand. He constantly shifted, adding layer after layer when it went down, but he knew he couldn't continue that for long. He needed to figure out a way of taking them down. He immediately began to look for weaknesses in the armour. He began to attack their weapons, blocking the barrels with thick light plugs, hoping to prevent them firing with them. It didn't matter if it didn't work, as he began to fill the room with screens of light, like stationary sheilds, around him, merely to give him time to think. He knew he was surrounded, yet he did not care. Finally, he formed his whips, and using them like losso's, he began to capture the shoulder's one by one, pulling tight, they would begin to tie around those he caught. He knew it was merely a stop cap, yet he continued to resist, as he began to gather light, forcing energy into a massive ball, that if he got off, would be similar to an explosion within the room.</s> <|message|>Gershwin May The light plugs proved effective, and the blockage caused the high-speed propelled bullet to explode within the barrel. Those whose weapons were blocked were jolted violently in the recoil, falling to the ground. Some were hit in the head with the rifle, cracking their helmets and knocking them out. Some of the rifles exploded from within, and were rendered useless. Gunfire continued from the far-back ranks, but the approaching soldiers ran at Subject 30, hoping that they could take him out in strong hand-to-hand combat. The lassoed soldiers, while resistant to the heat and damage from the light whips, were still carried and tossed around and away. This necessitated a shift in strategy: Subject 30 was too dangerous to approach mid-way, but in terms of long-range and up-close, the soldiers had a shot. The mortars continued their artillery explosive shots, hoping that the concussive blasts from the explosions would disorientate and perhaps dismember him while the upfront soldiers closed in to take him down fully. The numbers were dwindling, but they were still as deadly. --- The reinforcements were getting closer. Helicopters covered the skies by the dozen, and on the ground, Armoured Personnel Carriers and tanks on full speed, bringing in a literal army of trained soldiers and weapons to rescue any UNARM personnel, and take down any and all threats. If one could look over the huge crater that hid their facility, they were within the horizon, the gunships even closer. Gershwin was perched on a rooftop and roared tyrannically.</s> <|message|>Cody O'Niel There was a moment for Cody where his shield broke, and a bullet lodged itself in his shoulder, in the split second before he got his shield back up. He stumbled, before rising and throwing multiple light balls at his opponents to seek for week spots, noticing the change in tactics. As the soliders closed in, Cody began to move. He began to punch those closest to him, moving with grace, and some ease, but he was tiring. He knew he had to stop them quickly, and so he began to punch, kick and hit with speed, and power. His light abilities fueled his punches and he began to move through the ranks. He hummed as he fought, and the lights around them began to flicker, and he unconsciously began to draw energy from them, causing him to sway slightly. --- Caits began to make her way out the building, stumbling along, bleary eyed and exhausted, her gun in her hands, and she looked up at the sound of helicoptor. She gave a heavy sigh, and began to make her way onto a roof.</s> <|message|>Gershwin May Subject 30's light empowerment was very powerful when up close. The shots of light worked like a cannon blast up close, and the armour took a visible toll absorbing the impact, and it struck the soldiers inside even harder. Those shot up-close were knocked out. Those that got close enough, before being shot away, managed to land some hits on Cody. Strong and toned as they were, and protected as they might be, it seemed that they were not strong enough to penetrate his shield - only a stronger kinetic force seemed to be the only choice. Thus, the ones that did not get shot, turned around, running back to retrieve a resupply on firearms. In the back, a man stood amongst the lower row, and readied his Rocket-Propelled Grenade launcher, aiming the warhead at Cody. --- Gershwin stood at the very corner edge of the building she was atop. Her shoulders were hunched and arms were spread as if like a predator sizing up his prey, and knowing it had the bigger bite. But off the corner of "its" eye, she saw Agent Caits. 10 meters behind her, a missile was headed her way. With intentions unknown, Gershwin jumped and launched herself at the missile, intercepting it mid-air before it hit Agent Caits. The explosion, concussive and heat, would have disintegrated her body. In fact, it was, but now her entire body was a phantasmal, ghastly, monstrous replica of her former self. Her elbows seemed to have spikes and her fingers elongated to claws, her mouth no longer the pleasant smile but instead a sharp maw with daggers for teeth. Horns seemed to sprout out of her head and her jaw, her spine with long, barbed, serrated protrusions. She started to looked like a demon. For all intents and purposes, this may not be her final form. She leaped at the inbound helicopter which was just over the crater ridge, and with her sharp claws, pierced right through it. It exploded right then and there, and Gershwin howled in pain as her body got hit by shrapnel, fire, the spinning blades, before landing face-first back on the rooftop. She rose back up as if from the dead, a pained look in her eyes - those glowing orbs on the remnants of her human orifices. She turned back around, noting the incoming helicopters. On the other end, at the only entrance to the UNARM facility, vehicular noise sounded. The land units were here.</s> <|message|>Cody O'Niel Cody began to gather light to him, seemingly unconcerned by the rocket launcher aimed at him. As each blow landed, Cody's body acted insinctively, quickly replunishing his shield. Sometimes however his power wasn't quick enough, and blows landed on him, causing him to stumble, or grunt in pain. Yet this didn't seem to stop him, as his body rapidly began to heal him. He couldn't stop it, it was merely his body's reaction to it. He gathered light to him, forming it into a massive ball, that he would fire as soon as the launcher fired. And then he crouched, covering his head with his arms, knowing there would be a resulting explosion, and knowing that it would hurt his ears. Far away, Cody could hear the sounds of battle, and knew Gerswhin had joined the fray. --- The blurred figure that leaped in front of her, saving her life, was seen at the cornor of Caits's eye, and she ducked, the resulting heat washing over her, somewhat lessoned due to it exploding on impact to Gerswhin. Caits rose from where she had been blasted, weary, but knowing she had to continue. She wasn't afraid. It seemed that everytime she was to die, Gerswhin stopped that from happening. She knew she shouldn't rely on Gerswin, but if she was going to die anyway, she might as well be a little reckless. An Avenging Angel. Perhaps that was what Gerswhin was. Caits began to choose targets, and began to shoot. She stilled aimed for injury, and not death. She just couldn't make herself kill, evne now.</s>
<|message|>Gershwin May The soldiers took note of the gathering light forming into the large ball of attack. While the majority kept their rain of fire, only a sane select few took cover. The ball of light was launched and so was the RPG. The soldiers in fisticuffs turned around to see the smokey trail of the grenade and the bright luminescent orb make contact, and that was the last thing they saw. The resulting explosion blew up into a hellish ball of supernatural fire that engulfed the entire chamber room. The light blinded the soldiers, and the flames and kinetic energy was enough to knock everyone out unconscious. Cody should be no exception to the immense energy released. When everything settled, every surface of the room was charred and singed, a powerful conflagration in a seemingly infinitesimal amount of time, gone. There were only about five soldiers left, who came out their cover and approached Subject 30. They walked slowly, rifles raised and aimed at the downed Subject. They had the physical numbers against them, but their power was unsubstantial, even non-existent, against the Anomaly. They all trembled in fear. --- While Gershwin leaped further and further away from Agent Caits, taking on entire groups at once with a vengeance for pain, group troops spread out to every building. Radio chatter was filled with phrases such as: "charges ready," "building D secured and armed," "sector A armed," "kill everyone on sight." A tank took aim with its long barrel, and took its shot at Agent Caits.</s>
<|description|>Jolene Rivers Age: 18 Gender: Female Caste Ranking: Vault Citizen Physical Appearance: Jolene is a girl of around average height for her age - 5'6, to be more specific. She's not especially skinny, but she isn't thick-set, either, having a balanced, lithe build that comes from eating her vegetables and carrying around books/medical equipment. Her skin is a fair, peachy shade, not pale, yet containing no tan due to staying in the vault, literally her entire life. Her hair is a strawberry blonde color, and being rather long, it's usually tied back into an efficient pony-tail, as to keep any strands from covering or irritating her eye. A black strip of cloth has effectively covered her left eye from the world. Jolene also typically wears her father's old lab coat over her Vault 24 jumpsuit, the lab coat holds some smaller medical supplies. It's mainly for avoiding any sort of infection whenever she's operating. As it used to belong to her father, Jolene holds it close to her heart. Biography: Jolene was born to two high-ranking members of the Vault; The lead doctor, whom was her father, and a rather renowned chef of a mother - known for her Mole-Rate casseroles. As expected of her, she was naturally smart, putting her all into her studies and exams. Due to this, she skipped a grade earlier on in her life, which made her a bit of an outcast amongst the slightly older people of her class. In her other-wise stable environment, Jolene was a straight A student, and a person whom was expected to take on her father's old mantle - especially due to her interest in anatomy, and healing other people. Whether it was someone with a bruise, or someone whom had a bite from an invasive radroach, she was usually there with her mini-medkit in hand. This was rather cute when she was younger, and it grew to be impressive, as her knowledge on the matter developed alongside her body and mind. She didn't really care about the discrimination against refugees - Logic dictated that they had some radiation within them, but not enough to be lethal, or even contagious or dangerous to the other vault dwellers, so people pushing them away only made them look idiotic. Finally, the day came for her graduation, and the woman had full plans of celebrating with her parents, before heading over to the Medic-Bay to get situated with a new environment. A small incident in her childhood had forced her to don a cloth over her left eye - she doesn't like talking about it, and would change the subject whenever the topic came up. To this day, it's unknown to most people as to why her left eye is covered. Only her mother and father knows, along with the doctors of the vault. The incident is related to a Mole-Rat family escaping the kennels, however. Work Test Results: She was assigned into the medical department, as a Surgeon, specializing in lacerations/puncture wounds. Other: Skills - Medicine, Science, Energy Weapons, Explosives.</s> <|message|>Osaki Kayo Osaki had no time to react for when Mathew opened the door it began to close. She followed after him and into the tunnel. It was dark and had a musk like smell. Light shone from the other side where the metal door was. The last door out into safety. Well she hoped outside would be safe. As she followed after Mathew, she felt a calm take over her. Followed by thoughts of those still trapped within. She hoped that when her mother and father died to those things that at least they wouldn't suffer. That it would be quick. She hoped that for everyone right now. She had nobody now, there were fellow vault citizens with her ,but they were not her friends. Perhaps they could be now, seeing as all they had now was each other. She looked to see if Kat was anywhere near her as she reached the door. Suddenly light hit her face as Mathew opened it. She tried to exit ,but it was hard to see until her eyes finally adjusted. She held her arm with her left hand while her right held onto the pistol. She stood there taking the sight in and was in awe. It lacked beauty ,but that wasn't what she awed at. The place was dead and buildings could be seen. She placed her free hand on Mathew's shoulder. "One life ends and another begins..." She said. It was something her mother used to say. Words she will never hear again coming from the mouth she heard them from. She began tearing up at the conclusion that there were faces she will only see in her memories. They were gone now,... Her teacher, the overseers, and countless others. Her hand dropped from Mathew's shoulder to wiped her tears away.</s> <|message|>Katherine 'Kat' Harris Kat looked over to Matthew and then to the massive vault door as it slowly broke from its rust and spun over to reveal a small, dank, dimly lit cave. She breathed in deeply, look back to the elevator and then back to the cave. She reminisced about her life in general. Her father and mother were most likely dead now. She felt her eyes well up with tears once more, but she quickly wiped the tears away with her finger. Now was not the time for crying, it was the time to stay strong and make them proud. She really wished she had been less rebellious towards her father throughout her life, actually made him proud rather than just satisfied. But it was too late now. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small switchblade, she flicked it open to reveal a rather sharp, slightly taped knife with a small snake carved in. She remembered her friends and held the knife to her heart, with the blade facing upwards towards her head obviously. She flicked the blade back into the handle and stuffed it into her pocket, making her way into the cave. Kat let her hand slide along the damp walls of the cave, it was a feeling like none other she felt before. She knew she wasn't prepared for what was outside the vault, but she just hoped it was a lot less gruesome than what was inside it. She watched Matthew and Osaki leave and stood still for a bit. She turned back to the vault before facing the wall and breathing deeply. This was it, now or never. She punched the wall, ripping the door open with all her might and sending it slamming against the wall. It would have been more impressive if she hadn't immediately tripped while exiting the vault. It sent her tumbling down onto the hot dirt. She pushed herself up, examining the strange mineral as she rose to her feet and wiped the dirt from her face using her sleeve. The sun blinded her, she protected her eyes with her arm while moving over to Matthew and Osaki. "I never expected it to be this...bright" She spoke. Her words were hushed, she had no idea why. "I can see something in the distance over there and that sign seems to point to them. That seems like a good bet to find other people." Her voice now returning to normal as she spoke. Her eyes had mostly adjusted to the sunlight now, she held her hand horizontally above her eyes as she stared off into the distance.</s> <|message|>Jerry Lowe As soon as he had stepped outside of the vault, Jerry noticed one thing in particular, aside from the bright light: beyond the solid steel walls, the calming ambience of the Vault PA System was nothing but harsh static. At first, Jerry began to panic, unable to hear the soothing sounds that had kept him company for so long. It took all he had not to cry out something stupid, further ruining his relations with the other Dwellers. Fortunately for Jerry, however, a little ding came from his Pip-Boy. He jammed his big meaty palm against the screen, trying to figure out what it was: A new radio station. Jerry gave a little squeal of joy, something entirely inappropriate in the mood of the moment, and pressed it. An upbeat and twangy song began to play, much to Jerry's relief. He had already almost entirely forgotten about what it was that had made everybody so upset in the first place, immersed in the music.</s>
<|message|>Jolene Rivers "This situation is not fresh, this is not fresh at all." thought Jolene as she ran, clutching an overstuffed medkit that she had taken from the med-bay moments before. Occasionally, a medical supply or two fell from the kit, leaving a trail of scalpels and various other tools. Currently trampling its way over that trail was one of those monsters, its right arm appearing to have a large tumorous mass in its shoulder, forcing itself to charge on all fours like a powerful gorilla. It was quickly gaining on Jolene, so much so that she could feel its hot breath, and hear its rapid, guttural grunts behind her. At the end of the corridor, Jolene spotted an elevator sitting quietly some distance away. Suddenly, she heard a scream coming from one of the rooms on the right of the corridor, and felt a rush of air behind her as the monster dashed towards the sound. Realising she had been given some time at the cost of someone else's life, she sprinted towards the elevator door, adrenaline pumping through her system. While she pressed her thumb hard against the elevator button, Jolene grabbed her civilian model laser pistol from the deep pockets of her father's lab coat and waited for either the monster to return, or for the elevator to open. It was obvious which outcome she would prefer. Finally the elevator opened, and Jolene spun around into the elevator without thinking, only to see a horrific sight corpses...corpses everywhere. The smell truly hit her right then, and Jolene gagged, feeling the disgusting taste of bile rising in her throat. The door was slowly closing, and Jolene tried to calm down her erratic breathing. As the elevator whirled upwards, Jolene finally began to relax, until suddenly a clamorous noise rang out from the underbelly of the elevator, making her jump in fright. She moved to one of the less blood soaked corners of the room and waited anxiously, staring at the middle of floor. Without warning, a twisted claw sprang up from the spot where the sound came from, prompting Jolene to back away instantly. The claw pulled out from the hole, leaving a narrow opening in the metal, in which the monster poked its head through. Panicking, Jolene fired her laser pistol thrice into its aberrant face, stunning in long enough for her to stomp down into the hole. The monster reacted instantaneously, grabbing her right foot with both its mouth and its two hands. Thinking quickly, Jolene loosened her shoe in a flash, causing the shoe to slip from her foot. With the mutant only gripping the discarded footwear, Jolene muffled a shriek, slamming the pad of her now sneakerless foot against it's forehead. It budged slightly, but only responded by swallowing the shoe and snapping, once more, at her leg, beginning to pull its horribly mutated body through the narrow opening. "I'm going to die..." She began to breathe quickly, only for the elevator to ding. Jolene turned, adrenaline sending an extra burst of power in her legs. She practically flew through the tight squeeze of the slowly opening elevator doors, frantically slamming the 'Down' button on the elevator's command pad. As the doors began to close, Jolene saw the monster attempting to slice the hole bigger. It failed, and fell down the elevator shaft, just in time for the elevator itself to close it's doors. The sound of it's high-pitched snarling, and then the impact point...that would stay with her for a while. Jolene shivered, and slowly turned around, just in time to see the vault door completely open, revealing the Wasteland beyond. "Woah..."</s>