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<|description|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Human (Vrettonian) | 30 | Female Appearance Sylvaine is 160cm tall, with a wiry, athletic build. Her shoulderlength hair is a rare jet black, her eyes emerald green; features that raised more than a few brows during her upbringing. Her skin has marks of combat on it, nicks and scars that Sylvaine does her best to hide. She typically wears comfortable, durable clothes of wool and leather, and is seldom seen without a sword on her hip. Personality Sylvaine has that somewhat deadly mix of absolute charm and severe narcisism that tends to make people misjudge and underestimate her in social interactions. Her warm and inviting veneer can change to indifferent ruthlessness in an instant, and very few ever see it coming. Her greed and lust (especially for power, but pleasure will mostly do) knows no bounds. She is an unpredictable friend at best, and a twitchy snake of an enemy at worst. Background * Mercenary/Bandit/Assassin (Optional) * Commoner * Father was the commander of a company of sellswords and died a drunk beggar, mother is unknown and presumed dead. History (Optional) Sylvaine always was her fathers girl, and took his customs and those of his company right to heart. Life on campaign is hard, especially for a little girl among ruthless men, and so she had to become ruthless herself. She first learned how to hide and steal, then to lie and decieve, and finally to fight and kill. Every vice or dark deed you can think of Sylvaine has done, or at least considered. She left her father to die when he lost command of the company and turned to drinking, and took whatever possessions of his still worth having with her. The road is her home now, wherever it may take her. Motivation Sylvaines goals in life is to take what she can, and give nothing back. Capabilities Attributes Combat [1/1] * One handed Sword (1) * Daggers (1) * Dual Weilding (1) Intelligence [1/1] * Linguistics (1) * * Charisma [1/1] * Diplomacy (1) * Charm (1) * Seduction (1) * Deception (1) Health [1/1] * Fortitude (1) * Rejuvenation (1) Faculties [1/1] * * * Agility [1/1] * Run (1) * Stealth (1) * Pick Pocket (1) Mysticism [0/3] * * * --- Equipment * Longsword * Dagger * Leather Clothing Money 1 Royal, 3 Lordlings, 15 Commons Languages Vrettonian, Dre Costan, Northern</s> <|message|>Mari Balance: 1d8+1 = 5 (4 + 1) Intelligence: d8 = 4 Mari missed the sound of the sea. It was something she'd taken for granted, born and raised near the water as she always had been, and now that it was gone, the world seemed all too uncomfortably quiet. This forest would test her, she knew; Asherah had promised as much, and to become a Daughter of Rán, Mari would have to overcome adversity. She needed to prove she was one of them in heart and mind before she could be granted any gifts. She stopped at the edge of the gulley, pushing auburn hair from her face. Getting around this would take hours, and Mari wanted to make it deeper into the forest well before darkness fell. She had a passing knowledge of world geography, but without help in this forest she would be hopelessly lost. People lived in the darkness of the wood somewhere, she just had to find them, and perhaps see if a deal could be made. That meant getting down and through the gulley. Mari noted the very large, very dead thing down there, but whatever felled it was nowhere to be seen, no tracks she could identify at a distance. The smell was strong, though. Best not to linger here any longer than I have to. She started down carefully after securing her pack and her shield, making quick work of the descent. She almost slipped once, but caught herself and kept her feet, setting foot in the basin. Her boots sank into the mud beneath the shallow, filthy water, but she made sure to keep moving, finding that the muck wasn't severe enough to threaten her. The creature was an ogre, she guessed, judging by Asherah's descriptions from stories she'd told. Goddess, the old woman had a lot of stories. The ogre looked to be a few days dead at least, and the smell grew even worse as she passed. With no intent of sticking around to end up beside the dead ogre, Mari began the work of climbing up the far side of the gulley, finding it no more difficult than the descent. It wasn't the warmest welcome into the Blackwood, but Mari had already steeled herself for the worst. Whatever the Watery Widow intended to throw at her, she would face it.</s> <|message|>Name Gundarogs: These creatures are one of two subspecies of 'Rog'. The normal, forest dwelling rog are slightly larger, with sallow or green skin. Gundarogs, however, are their underground dwelling counterpart, skin black as if burned and faces horribly twisted. Gundarogs stand around 5 feet tall, with gangly but strong limbs, and weigh around 100 pounds out of their twisted black iron armor. Hideously cruel and malicious, Gundarogs infest mountain holes and the deeps beneath the earth, ever searching for metals to twist into their crude but deadly weapons and armor, but more importantly for buried demons and forgotten gods to worship. They enjoy torture and feasting upon hapless humanoids, but they abhor light, particularly the sun. The fact that they are here is an indication to a clue about the Blackwood proper, for even under such gloom they would not make their homes above ground. Something about the forest is even darker than it appears, or perhaps they were called? Perhaps both? The creature squealed in a piercing wail and dropped the scorpion, looking very akin to a cockroach that found a meal repulsive to its sensibilities. The scorpion scuttled away into the brush, making a twisted path through a mixture of bushes and fallen boughs towards Kyiriniae'aea, suddenly forming back into the very confused baby not half a minute later. Such spells lasted a longer time with more mundane and well understood beasts like sheep and chickens. The child was now looking around curiously, unable to fathom what had just occurred. Behind him, the four Gundarogs had not yet grabbed their weapons, which from where Kyiriniae'aea stood, she could see they were barbed spears and cruel stabbing swords. Rather than screech further or run, they scuttled a few meters away from the fire and watched it fearfully, whispering to one another in their strange, guttural tongue. The flame roared black before their eyes, unyielding from Kyiriniae'aea's cantrip. It seemed they took the fire as an omen, with the loss of their meal via polymorph simply a further sign as to an entity that had chosen to speak with them. There was no telling what Gundarogs would do if they saw a Silver Elf, as most see them attack when others trespass upon their mountain caverns rather than the creatures making a home in the woodlands. When it became apparently the fire wouldn't harm them, they approached closer and gripped their spears, raising them into the air like primitive men or apes, beginning to chant a string of words that sounded like a strange rhyme. The child began to cry once more at the Elf's feet, though the things had yet to hear past their chanting. --- Mari had ascended without error, just in time to make it under the cover of the thick trees when she heard a strange noise in the distance. She found a good tree to hide behind among the myriad of elms and birches, just as she heard an incredibly loud warscream from some winged monstrosity that swooped in from above. It looked twenty feet long from the tip of its tail to it's snout, very dragon-like in appearance save for its brown ridged scales, clubbed tail, and the fact it only had four appendages with small clawed hands at the top of its vast wings. It was terrifyingly mesmerizing to watch it drop onto the ridge Mari had just traversed like a strange bird, clinging to it before it let its taloned feet slide further into the gulley so it could feast upon the huge Ogre's corpse. It likely was not the thing that had killed the monster, but it would certainly capitalize on a free meal when it found it. The warrior would be so transfixed on the display of nature, that she would be caught completely by surprise when a strong hand grabbed her mouth and a sudden sound of "ssshhh" would escape the lips of whoever hid behind her. Mari could struggle, but she would hear the next words as follows. "Don't scream. I'm not here to harm you..." Suddenly she was let go, and Mari would see amid the shadow of the forest, another warrior woman. Tall and lithe, and strong of limb. Her long dark hair was tied into a flowing ponytail, she was adorned with a bronze breastplate and bronze greaves. Her blue eyes contrasted her coppery skin, and she was similiarly armed as Mari with a sword and shield, albeit of different designs. She was also notably taller than Mari. She held her hands up disarmingly. "We must go before the Wyvern smells us. I am Ithaca, the Road Warden. Come with me and I'll take you to town."</s>

<|message|>Sylvaine de Vermeille Roll for deception = 6 + 1 = 7 Sylvaine had had enough of travel, at least for a few days. Having a storyteller for company on the road had certainly helped to ease the boredom of ceasless trudging along some path or other, but the novelty of this luxury had somewhat begun to fade. What she wanted was a proper bed to sleep in, a proper cooked meal to eat, and proper drink to get drunk on. They had all that in Greybridge, so naturally she wanted in. What she didn't want, however, was to upend what was left of her meagre purse into the long-fingered paw of some blackmailing bureaucrat. He would not be getting ten lordling out of her anytime soon. The notion of looking for another crossing a hundred miles or so downstream was, however, equally distasteful. Cillian was pleasant enough for company, no doubt, but Sylvaine had reached her limit when it came to hiking. Just the thought of campfires and wet bedrolls and endless, tedious marching made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. She would not be going wandering anywhere anytime soon. That left her in a bit of a pickle. What to do? She looked across at Cillian, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. Their eyes met, and she raised an eyebrow. He gave no immediate reply, so she shrugged and made for the notary, pushing past a few disgruntled farmers. One turned to confront her, but put his anger aside when he saw the steel on her hip and in her eye. "Good sir!" she exclaimed, hailing the man, "I do believe that a man of your stature and character would not demand such a tribute of an old ally of the township!" She walked right up to the armed men, a mask of calm and careless charm on her face, and gave a short bow. "de Vermeille is my name, Sylvaine, daughter to none other than Rainier de Vermeille, commander of the Blue Blades, who fought for this settlement during the border skirmishes of yesteryears. We were made kin then, we were told, for our service to the people, and would always be welcome when in need of a haven. Well, I am in need of such a haven now, as is my minstrel. A man of your nature would not go back on such a promise, would he? I, for one, would think not." She beamed at the notary, awaiting his reply.</s>

<|description|>Neil Edwards. Codename "Firestorm." Nickname(Optional): Pfft, no. Age: 24 Gender: Male Physical Appearance: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn't exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn't big at all, but he is also not small. He has a face girls can find cute, but not exactly dreamy. Tanned skin and a ruddy complexion from all of the machine's he's worked on, coupled with the calluses on his hands gives him an experienced look despite the very youthful appearance he has. All in all, other than the twinkling of his eyes and the trademark grin, he is essentially average. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black under most light. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds. Clothing: He often wears baggy pants, mostly military cargo. He likes to wear single colored T-Shirts. Usually he wears red. Personality: Oh, now that is a question. To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that hits the nail on the head. Very good with hand-eye coordination, competent combatant, good engineer, and a daring pilot. But prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a certain intelligence, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.</s> <|message|>Neil Edwards. Codename "Firestorm." The snapping of buttons and the crank of the throttle was audible over the thrum of the engines. It did Neil well to hear the Highlander purring as if it was brand new and straight off the hangar. He didn't necessarily like duping someone as innocent as Indra, but he had to admit conning paid off. Hell, the alternative would be worse. You could have told her you didn't love her. "Yeah yeah, and then where would you be?" He breathed, setting up the RIP jump. "Progress calculated. Course set-" Lonney began, but Neil cut him off. "I see it." The display was framed by 2 red lines reaching a horizon point at the center, indicating how far they needed to travel before they reached the first R.I.P. jump. Taya looked satisfied, but the moment she looked away from the monitor to view Neil, she took a double take. He hadn't been wearing those when he came in. "Neil, where were you hiding those glasses?" Neil adjusted the sunglasses on his face. "Don't worry about it." He told her, before his voice grew overly loud. "Everyone strapped in!?" Taya checked her waist, but Junebug had already made certain both women were buckled up and ready. One look was all Neil needed, and he punched it. "Good enough for me!" He said, and the ship lurched. The artificial gravity withing having a difficult time keeping up with the vessel's speed for a split second, before it adjusted and settled once again. On the monitor, the red lining was increasingly narrowing until they reached the horizon line, and rather than lurching, there was an intense feeling that was somewhere between nauseating, having an eardrum rupturing, and having your heart fly out of your mouth. It only lasted for but a moment, and for those used to it like Neil and Junebug, it wasn't nearly as bad as someone who had not experienced RIP nearly as muck like Taya, or for those who were not fully expecting it at the moment like Saxon likely. Soon the monitor was all silver streaks and black lines, in a maelstrom of various light dull colors as they traversed the alternate dimension. Every now and then, something would wash over the screen like a wave at sea. "Any idea where this might take us?" Taya asked through closed eyes, her small body shaking from the exertion of the jump. Neil unbuckled and handed her some water from the side compartment. "Wherever it is, it's close to the outer galaxy. We're already pretty far out, which is a double edged sword. Less law but more dangerous, generally."</s> <|message|>Sayeeda Cyckali "Extracting," Junebug stated/thought, her consciousness merging with the computer her thoughts surging down the circuits in a stream of electrons. Reality stuttered into existence around them and Junebug felt a wrenching sense of loss which passes almost instantly. The sensor boards lit up as data from the material universe flooded in. Before them hung a greenish blue world with a single large continent dominating the lower half. There were several other worlds in the system but they seemed to be either gas giants or unremarkable rocks. "Looks like... one spaceport with a lit beacon, sporadic radio traffic, fairly sparce settlement, or fairly low tech," Taya reported looking gray and shaky. Junebug had never found that the wrenching psychic shocks got any better, but with time you learned to deal with them. The junction had obviously been tough on her and she hadn't yet fully recovered from the strain. Junebug hoped they could take some time to rest and recuperate wherever this was. "Any local net?" Junebug asked, tuning the sensors on the spaceport beacon Taya had mentioned. "Doesn't look like they are that organised," Taya said a little disapprovingly. "Beacon lists the world as Tiosinte, a protectorate of The Caliphate of Tarsaros, whatever that is," she commented. Spaceport beacons were not uncommon on more out of the way worlds that lacked centralized orbital nets. They usually provided basic information about the world as well as docking procedures and fees. Few worlds had several of them unless there was a political situation that made competing spaceports necessary. "Docking fee five hundred credits and a further hundred in departure duties, tankage and gases, blah blah blah," Junebug continued reaching the end of the the meager data stream. No information on trade, no employment listings, no data on local conditions. "Well, they will have charts if they have a spaceport," Junebug said, "and we might as well look over the damage from the junction with gravity under us. Take us in Neil." "You got it babe," Neil said and shaped their course for reentry. The Highlander settled onto the cracked concrete pad, the plasma thrusters starting brief fires fueled by weeds that grew up through the fissures on the landing surface. The spaceport was an space of perhaps forty acres enclosed by a curtain wall of synthetic stone. Presumably this was meant to protect the settlement they had overflown on the way in should one of the freighters under go a reactor failure rather than to defend the spaceport, manning such a fortification would take at half a battalion. Several hangers, apparently used for storage rather than to shelter ships, leaned haphazard and rusted, roofed in a combination of corrugated iron and structural plastic sheeting. A control tower of sorts stood roughly in the center of the space, a sun faded flag blowing lazily from its peak. Well it was a tower at least, they hadn't responded to any hails Sayeeda had attempted either by radio or with laser communicator. A battered looking freighter, several times the size of the Highlander sat on the other side of the port looking battered and ugly. It had power readings but no crew were immediately evident. Junebug, Neil and Taya walked down the ramp and onto the cooling concrete. A shabby looking man was walking from the terminal with a clip board in his hand. He was unshaven and wore a grease spotted shirt in a garish red printed with white flowers and a pair of cargo shorts that contrasted to the steel toed boots that completed the ensemble. He reached the group and paused pulling a cigarette from his mouth and extending a hand. Junebug reached and and took it, shaking it formally. "Welcome to Tiosinte captain...?" he asked. "Cykali," Junebug supplied, "Junebug Cykali." If the name struck the man as odd he didn't show it, eyeing both her and Taya with appreciation, his eyes sliding over Neil. "I'm Warner, Tobin Warner, I run the spaceport for the Tars," he intorduced himself before chuckling good naturedly. "Not that they give a fuck what happens here of course, so long as they get their port duties, speaking of which..." he extended a hand. "Six hundred credits please," he said with a smile. Junebug couldn't help but smile, graft on such a minor scale was almost charming and she passed over six of the platinum inlaid credit chips. Warner made them vanish with a skillful flick of his wrist. "This is our first time on Tiosinte Mr Warner," Junebug told him, "Can you fill us in on conditions here?" Warner smiled tiredly. "Its a fucking shit show, that is how conditions are," Warner told her, waving for them to walk with him. Obidently the followed him into the base of the tower. The interior was pleasantly cool compared to the tropical heat outside. A single ceiling fan turned slowly and music of some kind of acoustic harp blared from a music projector unit. "There are a couple of gangs here that supply danac to the cartels on Easterling, they are at each others throats," Warner explained picking up a large pitcher of iced tea and pouring four glasses without bothering to ask them if they wanted any. He made a magnanimous gesture to the table of battered wood and Junebug took a seat. "Danac?" Junebug asked and Warner arched his eyebrow. "Gods where are you from? Danac is a narcotic that grows here, only grows here really, though it grows like a weed, freighters from the cartel come in every couple days and pick up the raw stuff." He made a gesture with his cup towards the other freighter on the pad, accidentally splashing tea onto his shirt and squaring colorfully. "The gangs supply the cartel, and make everyone else miserable," Warner complained. "They don't bother the spaceport though?" Junebug queried. Warner shook his head. "Nah, the Tars could fucking gut them in a hot second if they managed to piss them off enough to notice, though that aint easy to do, no point in risking it when they already got everything else. If you want my advice, do whatever you need to do as quickly as you can and get the fuck out of here."</s>

<|message|>Neil Edwards. Codename "Firestorm." The spaceport was both rustic but industrialized. High tech towers and beacons beamed into the sky, nearly as slim as poles whilst the buildings around them were usually one, maybe two stories tall and made of clay or local sandstone. The climate wasn't nearly as arid as Hahn, but the planet wasn't necessarily bountiful in water or foliage either, giving the air a distinct smell of dust and dry heat and the air shimmered from the local sun's rays. The crew found refuge in a large cantina a few miles away from the landing area, a small ball of neon light emitting multiple colors out into the sun drenched streets. "No better place to find info." Neil said, and Taya and Junebug followed his lead. Of course, Junebug was savvy in a number of subject and she was no slouch when it came to criminal activities. It was something Neil used to do as a business, however, and at the moment they needed underhanded money. Well, anytime would be great but it seemed most money here was made through means that was illegal in the wider Imperium. The music inside was bouncing and catchy, and four Xenos with horned heads and mouths split horizontally rather than vertically played on strange instruments on a small stage in the back. The three of them got a small table near the center of the sitting area, calling for drinks and making a guessing game of what alcoholic beverage constituted as bearable in this backwater nowhere of a planet. Meanwhile, Neil spend the majority of his time looking around to see if there were any signs of someone who might have information. A telling look, a gang sigil, or someone with a surly disposition who glanced at just the correct times. It was to his surprise when a small group of settlers in the back waved him over when his eyes met one of them. They were maybe slightly older than him, around Junebug's age in brown coats and caps to keep the elements out of their hair, along with goggles on their foreheads. Neil looked to Junebug, then got to his feet and made his way over to them. "Hey buddy, looks like you could use some money." One of them said, slurping up a noodled dish into his mouth, and the others watched Neil expectantly. "Yeah I can. Looks like you fellas have a job if I'm not mistaken." He grinned. "You are mistaken. We're not wanting your skills, we want something else." "What's that?" "Your women" he said, and Neil's grin disappeared. He lowered his brow, not entirely certain if they were making a joke. He placed his thumbs in his pockets, leaning nonchalantly on his back leg. "You want me to sell you my little sister and my girlfriend? Is that something that happens here often?" The former might not be by blood and the latter might be a new development, but he wasn't lying either. "No, doesn't happen here more than much anywhere else. We'd treat 'em right, though if that's what you're worried on." A second said, and suddenly an idea popped into Neil's head. One he didn't need to convince himself much on. After a brief pause where he smiled, the pilot suddenly placed his hands under their table and threw it end over end atop one of them men, spilling their food and drinks in a myriad of cries. One of them regained his feet, sputtering soup out of his mouth. "What the fuck did you do that for!?" He screamed, and the other two suddenly placed their hands on their holsters. All the cantina was silent, and the men suddenly realized Neil was also armed. Soup and beer dripping from their hair and coats, their pause was short lived when they decided three against one was good odds. Neil felt the same. Before their guns cleared their holsters, Neil gunned all three of them down in display of impressive gunmanship. Junebug and Taya would have seen a bouncer approaching him from behind, only to suddenly walk away after he killed the three settlers. The fourth crawled out from under the table, and upon seeing his dead friends, he ran out of the cantina with flailing hands. Neil blew the smoke out of his gun, and made his way back to the table. "Neil what the heck was that for!?" Taya whispered, worried. "Well, if we can't get contacts, let's have the contacts notice us instead." He replied, and took a big sip from his mug. "Hey, this shit aint bad."</s>

<|description|>Vaul Vaul ­ Body Gender: Male Alignment: Lawful Neutral Race: Elf Appearance: Long, partly braided platinum-blonde hair spills over his shoulders and covers most of his back, framing a face with sharp features, including an aquiline nose, bright green eyes that stare unwaveringly, and high, pronounced cheeks to give the slightly triangular facial shape so common to those of the Elven race. A respectable, lean musculature, with all its swells and curves, is consistent throughout his body, hidden almost at all times by a silken robe of white decorated at the chest area with golden filigree depicting a story of mortality, from an elf's birth to his inevitable passing. Comfortable leather sandals hug at his feet, and in his right hand is a long, golden staff topped with an ornate, stylized depiction of a horned skull. Reaching behind his lengthy ear, he pulls his hood down to shadow his face, giving an eerie darkness to everything above his lips. Hanging by a long strap from his shoulders is a large satchel containing traveling essentials and less important baubles. Equipment: Ornate staff, steel dagger, 12ft. hempen rope, 2x quill, inkwell, 16x paper page, 9lbs. dried meat & smoked fish, handful of silver coins. Combat Skills: An elf of books and letters, he may not be able to give that good of an account of himself with a sword, but if need be, he can whack someone with his staff as a last resort. Ultimately, he prefers to stay at range, abusing the enemy with gratuitous spellcraft, and letting his undead minions do the bloody work of melee. Non-combat Skills: He is adept in alchemy and, surprisingly, the culinary arts. He is able to recite many Elven liturgies off the top of his head, and apparently knows a bit of midwifery. Well-read, he is knowledgeable on many topics, from theology, to history, to matters of the arcane and biology. He can also read the stars and skies to discern direction and navigate the world solely from that. Mana: High. Magical Schools: Necromancy, Pyromancy Magical Abilities: * Raise Dead: Breathing unlife into a corpse, it is animated and enthralled to the casting Necromancer to be at his beck and call. * Preservation: This spell halts the decomposition process of the raised dead, should the Necromancer require such a thing for some reason. * Decay: Culls the flesh from a raised dead till it's no more than a skeleton, should the Necromancer ever require it. * Scroll of Holding: The Necromancer writes down glyphs of power on any writable surface, enabling them to store individual objects not heavier than a full-grown horse. While usable on anything where ink can be applied, he most often uses this spell on pieces of paper or parchment to store raised dead. Deactivating the spell will cause stored objects to be regurgitated and the container to be destroyed. * Freeform Low-level Pyromancy: The Necromancer is able to use basic pyromancy with little casting involved, and thusly can create, shape and even fling at dangerous speeds fires no larger than a bear's paw at anything that may warrant it. * Dispel: Dissipates and otherwise damages the targeted mana structure, eliminating a troublesome spell or stunning a magical construct. Techniques: * Vindication: When Lichdom is still so far away, how can he falter now? The spell of Vindication asks for but a little mana in exchange for painlessness and a burst of energy, leading to a stamina and strength enough to rival that of centaurs. But whether his body can keep up with this magically-imbued vigor is another matter entirely. * Inspire the Dead: A variant of Vindication that applies only to the raised dead. He may grant the boons of the spell on one or more thralls, making them hit harder and faster. Maintaining this technique is done at the cost of the Necromancer's body, which tires and fatigues, and in prolonged use, hurts. Spirit Personality: The newborn, rather stoic Vaul knows of his ignorance of the world, and seeks to know more. Having a code of honor, he seems to excuse his liberal use of his host's arcane talents on the argument that what he's controlling now are but mere shells, and not souls. He thinks before he speaks. Talents: Life-giver: Vaul is perhaps the antithesis of his host as in his presence, plants seem to be a bit greener, complexions seem to be a bit fairer, and weary bodies tend to be relaxed and feel weariness being siphoned off from them. Vaul can use this healing energy into a more active form, channeling it to cure minor cuts and bruises, or aid however little in the treatment of more grievous injuries. APPROVED</s> <|message|>Diana This is not a premise where you once stood in an endless void. This is not within a die to be rolled and decide an outcome. This is not something which needs to be wiped away before beginning. Rather, this is something with an outcome determined ahead of time. -Initiate. The black fades into white. The white melts into color. The void is struck by sound. From suspension in a world where all was obscured by a dense fog, a soul is pulled away from the naught just as quickly as it was placed within. The lights and sounds accelerate, whirling against one another in a mad cacophony as they compress like the collapse of a neutron star- Let's begin, then. Wake up. I can feel the air. I can feel the light. I can feel myself. --- A groan emanated outwards from the body of a homunculus as she rose to her feet, a hand reaching up to rub her eyes. "Gah, what the hell? My head..." After trailing off, a look of confusion crossed the artificial life form's face as she retracted her hand. "...my head?" A split second passed before realization set in, the retracted hand immediately shooting up to the sky in celebration, fist clenched. "Yes! It actually happened! Diana, it's time to experience life!" She announced brightly. "Oh, old owner of this body, hope y'don't mind that I'll probably be desecrating whatever you did with this thing. Well, you probably don't exist anymore, so who really cares~?" An instant later, the figure staggered slightly in a dizzy spell. "Kyaa, okay, okay, not used to this yet." She hastily murmured to herself, steadying her posture against a stone wall. Of course, it had already been noticed. With the soul placed into a body, "information" ingrained into the body was now the property of the soul. Their "everything" was now Diana's. Well, save for things contained in the old soul, like memories. But really, Diana could care less about that. 'Alrighty, let's see. Some shoddy survival gear, kay. This armor's not bad, I guess. Better than something this body can't support, which from what I can tell covers most armors. Why the hell do I have a sword though? This body's weeeaaak. Doesn't help that I've got this headache and still don't have the hang of this crap yet. Ow.' Going over the information received by virtue of now being the "owner" of the body, Diana's expression grew annoyed. 'Hey, this...this is a joke, right? No physical specs, no special equipment, no nothing. I mean, sure, it's magic-specced, so I could let it slide if it had some cool magic. But this...isn't this just normal elemental magic? There's literally nothing special about anything here, it's just something that's managed to max out its 'normalcy' stat! Seriously, what the hell, old owner?' Letting out a huff, Diana crossed her free arm over her chest in annoyance. "I deserve some better inheritance than this. Fuckin' jeez." She muttered to herself. '...well, nothing for it. If the body's a boring old rock, I'll just use myself to polish it up.' After ruminating to herself, Diana's gaze finally drifted over to the weathered statue that lay in the center, her right eyebrow quirking up slightly. "...oh?"</s> <|message|>Boris Egon I stretch, and yawn, before looking at my surroundings. Where am I? I don't remember anything here, not the statue, the old worn walls, or the beings around me. Goodness, but they are huge, or perhaps I am small... I examine myself as carefully as I can, I have wings! I am small and I wear things made from nature itself, bark, some of it fur-lined. I have a blade at my side, it looks like a thorn. I draw it, but refrain from touching the blade, knowing somehow that it is poisoned. Can I fly with these wings? I re-sheath my thorn before attempting to fly, just in case, and then ... I'm zipping along, up and around the statue! Oh, what fun this is! Why would anyone walk if they could fly like this? And then I feel it, a dull aching, a sharp pain, I fall. Landing with, well to be honest a squeak. It's hard not to squeak when one's vocal chords are as small as mine, and the air pushed forcefully out ones lungs. The pain is gone, but the aching is not. It must have been a cramp, yes that's what it had been. Where am I now? On the statue's left shoulder I see. I didn't like the aching, or the bruises forming on my chest and legs from having fallen on the statue. I can heal those! And I do, my skin turning a greenish hue for a moment as the bruises and aches fade. Then nothing, but I feel... less full. I don't think I can repeat my actions, at least not yet, so I sit up carefully on the smooth shoulder and watch the other beings quietly. Will they notice me? If they do how will they react to me? I am so small, I doubt I could hurt any of them even if I tried, but I wasn't about to be anyone's pet, and they'd better not call me cute. Oh no, several of them are female, I vaguely recall that females tend to associate cute with small things, in fact, a things cuteness seemed to grow as it shrank. I'm doomed, this is not going to end well, but ... I can't leave yet, where will I go? What will I find? ... Drat, I'll have to stick with at least one of these creatures... wonderful, ain't it great to be alive? I scowl as the others gather their wits, though my focus shifts from being to being.</s>

<|message|>Vaul A still silence dominated the underground expanse, with only the sounds of dripping water from overhead stalactites and the flow of a small stream being audible, though no-one was there to hear it. Ubiquitous darkness shrouded everything in shadow, the lumen globes already drained of mana and the torches burnt to uselessness. Chests had already been looted, and scientific apparati shattered into shards and bent metal; and from the temple entrance to the farthest wall, there was a trail of broken limbs and mutilated bodies, the rusting iron of weapons carelessly strewn about, and torn, heavy banners hanging from the ceiling, swaying to and fro as they peddled their now meaningless symbols to the mild breeze. Of course, in the oppressive shadow, he couldn't see any of this as he awoke. "Urgh," he groaned, as his nostrils flared, hungrily sucking up the dank air and the life the came with it. Lying face-down on the floor, a small pain was incessant in his chest from a pebble he had been laying on, and he found his arms incredibly weary as he moved them from their place near his hip, winning the battle against rigor mortis. He moved his hands further along, at the sides of his head, and pressed his palms against the damp cavern floor as hard as it was possible. Still weak, the effort it took to even sit on his knees was almost insufferable with its intensity, and Vaul succeeded only barely. A flash of instinct told him then that something important lay just towards his right, and he followed it, fingers alert, to feel a solid, deathly cold rod. His hand clenched with force, and he hefted the staff up by the rearward portions of its shaft, then steadied the pommel on the ground and grabbed it with his other hand to finally wrench himself away from the floor. And yet, no matter how many times he blinked, it was still dark where he was at. And so he gestured thoughtlessly, his arm going from right to left in an aimless wave, and at that very instance glittered the underground stream as light, for the first time in forever, greeted its waters, coming from lumen globes held in sconces along the walls of the cavern. Vaul looked around, examining his new surroundings, unsure of what to make of it all, as after he swiveled his eyes horizontally, taking it all in, and looked down at his feet, there was the grinning face of a disembodied skull. Mildly startled, he kicked it without a thought, the sudden effort jolting his muscles to spasm protectively as the calcium husk rolled away. A dull, but very noticeable pain was welling up in his left calf, as the gravitas of many dozens of armed corpses and opened, desecrated coffins extracted from their places within the walls began to sink in. He found a smooth enough piece of rock towards the side, one that he made his way to and sat upon. He was surprised to feel something poking his hide, so he shifted a bit on his impromptu seat to get comfortable. He continued to breathe, his lungs admirably remembering how to, but his respiration lessened in vigor as his need for air decreased with time. Then he figured out the cause for the shadow hanging overhead, and pulled back his hood, and reached further back to feel the long tresses of his hair. Tiredly did he sigh. "A Necromancer," he half-whispered, his voice not quite there, but the characteristic, moderate inflections that indicated a male were definitely noticeable. He cleared his throat, and tested his vocal cords again. "A Necromancer..." Such was the breadth of the underground temple that wherever he looked, he could see the messy aftermath of whatever battle had occurred here. Though the air was putrid, he could find no more flesh on what had once been thralls to whoever once owned this body. It had all rotted away, and a dozen skulls grimaced silently his way as he just sat there, finding hints of pain as he experimentally flexed his limbs. He brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed away the earthly crust that had formed on them, as he began to think on the road ahead. And when he took his hands away, he finally noticed the statue of the goddess, and other other, peculiar figures rising from the floor far away, in the center of the expanse.</s>

<|description|>Sander Loraine Age 18 Gender Male : Sander stands about 6', with blue eyes and platinum blond hair that seems almost white. Though quite pale and gangly, which was not surprising for someone who had never seen the sun, he is fit enough, given the fact that his favorite sport used to be 'running for his life'. Personality On the outside, Sander is mild-tempered and approachable. It is rare to see him without his lopsided grin and while he is quite private about his opinion, his face is rather expressive. However, the rough life of Undercity has taught him to only trust himself, and as a result, Sander is rather the individualist. He dislikes bossing people around and being bossed around even more, but would still follow orders if they benefit him somehow. While he mostly does things in his own terms and on his own time, Sander still understands full well the strength in number, so he hides his wariness with a smile and tries to work with everyone. Background Ever since he could remember, Sander had been living on the streets like so many others. His days were often either spent digging through dumpsters for something to eat or wandering the maze-like streets of Undercity looking for a wallet to nab. Every now and then, he would scavenge corpses that the gangsters or police left behind for valuables to sell. Eventually, he began to 'scavenge' from locked houses and storefronts. Some of his more ambitious heists had got him into all sorts of troubles, so Sander began to develop a knack for disappearing into the dark alleys or up the roof tops. Sometimes, he also took odd jobs from various people around town, mainly to make some extra cash and earn some favor. However, after an incident that almost cost his life, Sander decided that he could do with some company, or in other word, gave people more targets to aim at other than him. That was what led him to become a Scrounger. Other details Sander is often seen wearing an old hoodie, which is probably two sizes too large for him and is often decorated with questionable stains. When going outside, he often puts on a gas mask that covers his entire face. Also, he also has a night vision scope and a combat knife, both are obviously looted off a corpse somewhere.</s> <|message|>Adalwolf "Ada" Stroud This place is such a mess... thought Ada as she scanned the rooms she and her Scrounger friends called home. She glanced at her corner, which was near a broken window that opened up to a half-lit neon sign, orange-red flickering occasionally. She had a small cabinet, and a big plush chair that she slept in--she preferred it to a bed, and it took up less space besides. Her belongings were meager, but she was fine with it. The more you own, the more you owe, a wise street-woman told her once. Her only prized possessions were a few fashionable outfits, and the cleaning supplies she needed to keep herself looking presentable. Her corner was clean, as always. She sighed, and thought, I am living with a bunch of teenagers, afterall. What can I expect? The rest of the rooms were slightly cluttered and in disarray, which only ever seemed to bother Ada. Grumbling, she crossed over to the other room and found Delilah sitting on her bed, and put her hands on her hips as she watched her. She began making faces of exaggerated depression, and slumped herself dramatically against the wall, sighing audibly. Delilah did not seem to notice, too engrossed in what she was doing. Ada wondered what she was listening to, but knew that Delilah didn't like to talk about those things. Bored, and annoyed with the clutter of their living space, Ada decided to be disruptive and plopped down next to the young woman. She waved her hand in front of her face, and asked, "What're we doing tonight? Do we have work? Are we gonna go have fun? I'm getting sick of this place... I need to get out, ya know? We all need to get out."</s> <|message|>Keith Keith was tired of searching for work to do. He missed the days when work just came flooding to him. Nowadays, it's hard to find something that even paid enough to buy a meal; when you aren't part of a gang, it's even harder. Luckily for Keith, he had been in one of the biggest gangs in the Undercity for years and a few of the shopkeepers still relied on his skills from time to time. Not to mention, it was difficult for many Undercity-dwellers to find someone as willing and as capable as Kieth was to take care of their... problems. Andrew Korbil's shop was one of the most frequented in the area by many, and Keith was still "welcome" to pawn whatever junk he came across there. Keith knew, however, that Korbil wasn't particularly fond of him since he had stopped speaking. It gave him an air of dark intimidation, and he was fine with that. Fear was a useful tool in the Undercity. Keith patted the navy blue dufflebag that was slung over his shoulder as he walked in to signify that this wasn't a transaction to be made in public. Korbil gave Keith a wide berth while he walked to the door, barred it, and turned the 'Open' sign around to read 'Closed'. "This better be something good," Korbil half-whispered as he walked back to the counter. Keith slid the zipper open and spread the bag enough to reveal a standard issue police shotgun and shock baton. "Again? Are you fucking kidding me?! And you came here right after? You'll bring them right fucking to me!" This was the second time in two weeks that Keith had knocked out a police officer to pawn off their weapons. "Did they see you? I mean you stick out like a fucking sore thumb for Christ's sake." Keith subtly shook his head, his eyes fixed on Korbil's. Korbil muttered something under his breath, and reached under the counter to grab Keith's money. Keith laid the weapons on the counter and Korbil laid the money down next to them. Keith counted the money, and it was two dollars less than last time. He shot Korbil a look, his eyes burning with anger. Korbil cursed under his breath and dropped the two dollars on the counter. Kieth turned and went out, unbarring the door himself and slamming it behind him. As Keith walked towards the house, he stopped by a food stand with a neon green sign flashing overhead. He pointed a thick finger to the only thing they were selling, meat on a stick. The old vendor held it out with the stick towards Keith, his hand wrapped around the curious meat. Keith took it and left what he owed in front of the bedraggled man. As he approached the house, he noticed the two youngest of his group in front, chatting. The boy gave him an uncomfortable glance as he walked past into the house. He gave a slight nod to the two girls in the corner, threw his dufflebag down and sat on his mattress to count his net earnings for the day.</s> <|message|>Delilah Sutton It seemed despite her attempts to close herself off from the world, someone would always try and force their way into her bubble. When Ada started barraging her with questions she sighed audibly, and shot the older girl an annoyed look, pointedly not speaking until she'd paused her music and removed the earbuds, which she intentionally took extra time doing. "It's not like we have to do everything together, Ada. If you wanna get out there's plenty of opportunity." She didn't look at her fellow scrounger as she spoke, her eyes were focused on carefully, almost ritualistically, wrapping up the cord of her earbuds and slipping them and her music player into a hidden pocket. After finishing she finally looked over at the other girl, her face rather hard to read, as it tended to be. "Listen, I know work's been slow, but I've been working on something. Vito might have a job for us soon. I know he's not exactly given us the safest jobs but hey, they pay well, right? After one of his crazy schemes I'm sure we'll have plenty of surplus cash to pay for all your fancy clothes." She happened to finish her sentence just a brief moment before Keith walked by, to whom she paused to wave at casually. The other scroungers always seemed nervous around him but she always enjoyed his company, even if it was really just the two of them sitting in silence, it was somehow nicer than being alone.</s> <|message|>Letixia "Leti" Wasinski Leti saw the young Sander coming her way, but her eyes never moved off her potential targets. Always watching, Leti could tell just about anything from someone's body language. The way Sander walked, a bit of spring in his step, but a slump in his shoulders meant that he was successful, but disappointed. Probably robbing people poorer than him again. He really needed to get better taste in targets. As the blonde spoke to her, she smiled thinly, "And why does our Ghost think I'm scheming? I'm simply hear enjoying the fresh air and what I hope is chicken. Or at least one of the better, fatter breeds of rat." She always liked calling him that, with his bright hair and skin, plus his specialty of getting in and out of places, it just seemed suitable. About half of her tortilla left, she offered it to the boy, who had better know better by now than to refuse her. Her eyes saw the silent Keith approaching in what could only appear to be a huff. He always seemed annoyed and agitated about something. He really needed to relax. But that was on him, not her. "Get the hell out you two-timing scumbag! Get the hell outta my house and never come back!" Leti looked across the road, to see a woman swinging a frying pan as she drove a half naked man, and full naked woman, out her doorway. Leti smiled, a shark finally spotting its prey. "Excuse me Ghostie." The scene was almost comical as the young woman started her stride over, footsteps carefully, quietly placed, as she continued to watch. "Delilah! I'm sorry, she tricked me! I only love you!" The naked woman, now covering herself with what looked to be an old burlap sack was now glaring at him. "You lying sack of shit! You said you were going to leave her!" Bingo, exactly what Leti needed. She walked past the man, whose begging continued, while his wife berated and yelled at him. The naked woman was getting more and more pissed, as Leti walked up and slugged her in the face. She fell to the ground with a gasp, and the fighting ceased. Leti straddled the woman, hitting her three more times in the face, before standing back up, looking down at her. "Take your whoring to the single men." With that, she spit on the woman, who was now sobbing in the dirt. Walking past the man, glaring at him, "You might want to go." He was still shocked, looking between the three women, before moving to the mistress of his, kneeling to check on her. Leti strode up to the wife, who now looked more hurt than mad, that he still chose the other woman. Leti placed a hand on her waist, "Come on hun, let's get you inside. You don't need to see this."</s>

<|message|>Sander Loraine Even as Sander carried on his conversation with Leti, her glance never lost its predatory quality. It was still working hour for her, it seemed. Her specialty was, after all, seduction, so this seemed to be a good time as any. He preferred to work at night, where the hustle and bustle had died down a little bit. But then again, it was hard to tell down here. "Well, if you say so."- He smiled absent-minded as Leti offered him half of her tortilla. She was strange like that, always giving other people her food when she herself didn't have enough. Maybe she was one of those girl with body imagine issues? Anyhow, he decided against refusing. She would have none of it. –"And for the last time, the name's Sander"- He grumbled, but the words came out with less venom than he had hoped. He didn't dislike the nickname as much as he let on. Just as when he began to eat his food, Keith came by. Sander remained silent, but his rigid posture betrayed the wariness he was concealing. The giant had always reminded him of those gangsters that fancied themselves the king of this city. His past encounters with them were less than friendly, and more often than not left him with a few broken ribs and black eyes. Sure, Keith had done nothing of the sort to his fellow Scroungers, but Sander still couldn't help being paranoid. It was part of his survival instincts after all, something he had depended on so long. When the shouting started across the streets, Sander turned his head to look, just in time to spot Leti moving at the corner of his eyes. So she found her targets, huh? He sat back and watched as the scene unfold, all while enjoying his food. It was probably rat meat, since chicken was only available in the fanciest restaurants around these parts. Back when he was still a kid, a man even hired him and some other kids to catch rats for him. Still, the food tasted fine, so he finished it in a few bites, then contemplated on his next actions. Leti had led the woman inside, undoubtedly to rob her blind later. He wondered if he should give her a hand. With the woman sufficiently distracted, he could find his way in and clean out the house in matter of minutes. But then again, Leti probably didn't need his help and the house didn't look big enough for both of them to get involve. With that in mind, Sander gave the house one last glanced, before going upstairs. Sander paused at the door of the bedroom, where he spotted three other of his fellow scavengers. They appeared to be discussing something, so he decided to butt in. "So, did I hear something about a job?"- He grinned, leaning on the doorframe.</s>

<|description|>Kim A human nurse who harbors deep-seated resentment towards the Turian race due to personal or familial experiences during the First Contact War. She is small-framed with light skin and pale blue eyes, typical features of her Earthly origins. Despite her initial reluctance, she maintains professionalism and adheres to her duty as a nurse, showing a strong sense of work ethic and self-discipline. However, she struggles with emotional detachment from patients she dislikes, indicating an underlying rigidity or lack of empathy. Her personality reveals a mix of stubbornness and resilience in facing challenges head-on while maintaining high standards for herself and others around her.</s> <|description|>Vash A Turian male Spectre with a distinctive dual-toned voice. He possesses a unique physique, with pale grey metallic skin adorned by red face paint that fades during intense experiences. His appearance is marked by two-flanged mandibles and four-digit claw-like hands. Despite his tough exterior and experience as a Spectre, he exhibits surprising sensitivity towards human discomfort around him, hinting at an underlying compassionate nature. He also demonstrates a sense of humor in the face of adversity and has an observant personality, quick to notice subtle details about those around him.</s> <|narrator|>Vashiller Arok, a Turian Spectre, is brought to a med bay after being injured in a mission. He wakes up in a room with an Asian nurse named Kim, who appears to be resentful of his species due to the First Contact War. Despite her dislike, she attends to his wounds and assures him that he will recover within weeks. As they interact, it becomes clear that Vash is curious about humans and tries to engage in conversation with the nurse. Meanwhile, Kim struggles with her feelings towards him but maintains professionalism throughout their encounter. The story ends on a light-hearted note as she leaves the room after assuring him not to go anywhere while she gets his food and medication.</s> <|message|>Kim Vashiller Arok was lying on a med bay cot, screaming in pain. He was a Spectre returning from a successful mission. He found it funny, the mission was a success and yet he was here, writhing in agony on a med bay table trying to maintain consciousness while he and his squad raced back to the citadel to get him to the medical facilities there. How did he end up in this predicament? Well, the council had sent out this small team of Spectres: two Asari, a Salarian, him, and another Turian, to take care of a gang of Blood Pack mercenaries that were holding an Alliance cargo ship hostage. They sent the Spectres in as a small insertion team posing as negotiators to try and resolve the situation. The plan was to go in, take out the number of Vorcha on there and send the ship on its merry way. Only problem was that Alliance intel was off, there were a number of Krogan with them and when those Krogan saw Vash and the other Turian, they went nuts. They forgot about everything and started shooting and charging right at them trying to eliminate the bringers of the Genophage even though he nor the other Turian had no ties to that operation. Vash ended up taking a Krogan shotgun shell to his chest. Medigel helped close the wound so blood would stop seeping out but it didn't heal most of the internal damage and so he had to wait while the others took out the Blood Pack. Now here he was, waiting for the team to get to the Citadel. When they did finally arrive on the Citadel, the two Asari Spectres took Vash to the medical facilities while the Turian and Salarian went to give the council their report. Vash's mandibles were flexing in pain and anger as the two Asari wheeled him to the med bay. His red face paint had now gone from being nice and neat to smudged and faded, he was going to need to fix that later... if he lived to. His visor was now shot to hell so he needed to go buy a new one, all and all, he was pretty fucked up. "Damn Krogans," He muttered, the dual flanged tone in his voice was growing weak. He needed a doctor now or else he was as good as dead. The Asari got him there and handed him off to a few nurses while shouting for a doctor. The nurses started to wheel him towards an private medical room for a doctor to take care of him. Looking to ease his lain they immediately slapped a gas mask on his mouth and started pumping an anesthetic into him. After the gas started flowing, he felt himself slip off into sleep, all he could do was hope that he was going to be able to wake up in a few hours.</s> <|message|>Vash Kim had been working in the Citadel's medical facility for a few months now; medical professions ran in her family, and she was the latest in a long line of nurses. Fresh out of nurse's school, she had so far avoided caring for what she considered "alien" races. She viewed most of them with considerable distaste, a trait that also ran in her family. Salarians were the only race that Kim truly had any respect for, since so many of them were so accomplished in her field, but even then she found the idea of touching them distasteful. So imagine her chagrin when she was handed a clipboard for a turian in post-op care. She knew that the situation was bound to happen eventually, but had hoped that it would take a bit longer. If there was a race she disliked more than any other, it was turians. Her family had heavy losses during the First Contact war and had harbored ill feelings ever since. She gripped the chart, small hands turning white with frustration as she tried to contain herself. She would have to be as professional as possible of course, or she could lose her job, but that didn't mean she had to be nice to the damn cuttlefish. She made her way down to the private rooms, and stopped to rap loudly on the door. She looked at the chart as she walked into the room, to avoid looking at the turian in the bed. Vashiller Arok.. She mumbled to herself. He ought to be waking soon. She clipped the chart to the end of his bed and began her work, hoping she would be done cleaning and dressing the wound before he awoke...</s> <|message|>Kim Vash didn't know how long he was out, days, hours, minutes? It all seemed blurred together with the anesthetic. All he knew was that he was starting to come out of it. He could feel the tenderness in his flesh and the pain from the surgery. He groaned as he started to move around in his hospital bed. He groaned louder and his two-toned flanged voice filled the room. "Ugh, I think this is the worst I felt since that sniper slug through my shoulder." He wasn't aware that anyone was in the room, he had yet to open his eyes. He tried to fall asleep again but the pain was starting to overcome the anesthetic and he could feel it slowly spread from his chest to his other limbs as the wear and tear from the firefight was starting to take its toll. He finally found the strength to open his eyes and he was greeted by the muted colors of a medical room. He turned his head one way and he saw out his window to the vast superstructure that was the Citadel. A place that was a sort of cultural and species melting pot. You could turn the corner and find a group containing Asari, Quarian, Humans, Salarians, Volus, Hanar, Turians, Elcor, and just about every other species outside of Batarians, Vorcha, and Krogans (though he had seen the occasional straggler Krogan on the Zakara Ward) they aren't big fans of The Council so they tend to stay in the Terminus Systems and the Traverse. It was all metal and glass, only the occasional dot of green foliage on one of the upper levels of the Presidium. When he turned his head, he saw a doctor looking at his vitals and other readings that his machines were giving her. From his research into various species and their diverse cultures, he could tell she was Asian, an area somewhere on Earth that was no longer for a large population and technological advancement. Also commonly known for their short stature and yet high intellect. Most Asians have become predominant people in the fields of medicine, technology, engineering, and programming. She seemed a bit stressed, or was it anger? He had yet to master the art of human emotion reading, but her body language was showing signs of anger and aggression. He didn't know why so he kept that to himself, but he had his suspicions that it was because he was Turian. He understood their reasons for resentment but he assumed that the rift between Turians and Humans were starting to close. They built an advanced ship, The Normandy, together and he had heard of various squads of Alliance and Turian soldiers working together. He himself had begun to show respect and kindness to humans. "So doc?" He asked, "How bad is it?"</s> <|message|>Vash Kim cursed inwardly as the turian (she refused to call him by name in her mind) began stirring. She had only just begun to ready the fresh bandages and other supplies for treating him on a small rolling cart. He began mumbling and groaning, then finally opened his eyes and peered about the room. Studiously ignoring him for now, she examined the beeping machines attached to him and scribbled the results down on a clipboard. It wasn't until his strange, dual-toned voice spoke directly to her that she looked at him fully. He really was quite beat up. "I'm not your doctor," she said in a crisp, clipped tone. "I am your assigned nurse. And you will make a full recovery in a few weeks, the surgery was textbook." She moved the cart next to his bed, and slowly adjusted the incline so that he was in a more upright position. She cringed inwardly as she realized that he would likely be unable to remove his own hospital gown; she'd have to do even more touching. She motioned for him to raise his arms as much as possible, which likely wasn't much, thanks to the wound.</s> <|message|>Kim The way she talked to him confirmed his suspicions. She spoke to him professionally, without concern for his injuries, without niceties that made him feel comfortable in his hospital bed, without friendly hellos or good mornings. She definitely did not want to be around him. He gave a sigh, as sudden pain erupted from his chest. "Ah, damn that hurts!" He switched to small, shallow breaths to try and ease the pain, "Alright, nurse." He put emphasis on the word nurse to make sure she knew he observed the correct title. He didn't see why she cared about that correct title, from what he observed from the chances he'd had with humans they seemed to become flattered when they were given a title above what they were, he had also seen it done with ages. Anyway, he was glad to hear that everything was all hunky dory with his body, or at least what was still left of the unbroken and unscathed parts. Another sharp inhale of breath came when she wheeled next to him and pulled his bed up to an incline. "Oh, that's going to take some getting used to." He quieted again after that. He simply looked at her from there on out, and saw the utter look of discontent on her face. He was about to say something when she motioned for him to raise his arms. He knew this was going to be tough. "You know," He said beginning the raise of his arms, "You don't have to-Ah! Son of rachni!" He met the point where he felt jolts of pain shoot through his upper body. His arms were three quarters of the way up. "You don't have to be here. You can just switch out with someone else, I wouldn't be offended by it."</s> <|message|>Vash Kim sighed; perhaps the turian wasn't a total brute, if he could tell how badly she didn't want this assignment. She had thought of doing exactly as he had suggested, asking another nurse to trade with her. But she knew it would be a bad career move; if the higher ups found out her...dislike of the turian race, she would likely be passed over for raises and promotions, in favor of more..tolerant workers. Besides, this was her job. She did have something of a personal code; she would not shirk her duties simply because she found them unpleasant. And she told the turian exactly that. "If you must know," she said quietly, leveling a stare at him, "I am not one to shy away from my duties just because I don't like them." She leaned in to untie the back of his hospital gown and pulled it off of his outstretched arms, signaling that he could drop them again, and began removing the bandages, swabbing and cleaning the area of his wound with cleaning solution. It really was healing nicely, though there would be quite a scar when healed completely. She couldn't help but notice, over the smell of the solution, that he smelled absolutely foreign; nothing like a human, he smelled faintly of perhaps leather or gunmetal. After she finished cleaning the wound, she re-bandaged it, the whole time taking care not to make eye contact or to touch him beyond what was necessary; even the feeling of his skin and plates was strange to her, and it made her shudder a bit. Nodding in satisfaction when she was done, she addressed him. "I'll be back with your meal and medication. Don't go anywhere." The last part she said with what might have been called a faint smile, barely, as she left the room. It might have been a slightly cruel jest, seeing as obviously he was in no condition to do much of anything.</s>

<|message|>Kim Vash continued to feel the pain jolt through him as the nurse took her sweet time in untying the damn gown, hell, she was probably even enjoying it. When the gown dropped down his chest, his pale grey metallic skin now bare, he quickly put his arms down and felt the pain slowly ebb away. It came back, though, when he couldn't help but chuckle a little when the nurse revealed her dislike of him. "Heheh, admission of guilt," he hadn't said anything about her not liking Turians, all he did was make the assumption that she didn't want to treat him. It wasn't specific to him being Turian, anyone else could have taken it that he was being nice about his wound and how it would make someone uncomfortable, or even possibly that he was a Spectre and no one wanted to mess with a Spectre. She was the one who put words in his mouth. He kept his stare level with hers, his eyes remaining light and uncaring while hers seemed to have a fire in them. She was the first to break eye contact by looking at the tender flesh that stretched across his chest, the scar tissue was forming in a light grey hue that stood out against the sea of reflective dark grey of the rest of his body. As she wrapped the bandages around his chest, he could feel his plates shift and tingle at the feeling of the first human to ever touch his skin. Sure Salarians, Turians, and Asari had touched it before from other surgeries and medical procedures, but no humans; she was the first. The touch was surprisingly warm and the five fingers that touched it were foreign from the three bulky paws of Turians and Salarians. Even the Asari had a different feeling when they touched him. He was yanked from his thoughts with the nurse smiling saying that she would be back with his food and meds and told him not to go anywhere. The last part was said with a bit of an edge to it. "And here I thought nurses were all gumdrops and ice cream."</s>

<|description|>James Hunt Gender: Male Age: 24 Appearance: Rank: Corporal Class: Scout Weapons and Equipment: -Rifle: Gallian-3R -Sidearm: Viper-E-9 -Grenades: B-Type M3x3 -Melee: Combat Knifex2 Personality: James very reliable person, who will, despite his smart assness, always have your back. He's also an optimist, preferring to see the best before he sees the worst. Bio: Born to a butcher and waitress, James grew up learning how to chop up and find the best picks in meat when he wasn't at school or military training. His father was proud of his son, who excelled as a marksman in his training, was passing all his classes with at least a B+, and was taking to being a butcher so well. He also somehow managed to stay out of trouble despite his quips at teachers. However, as it grew closer to his 18th birthday, James put some serious thought into joining the military instead of just becoming another militia bumpkin. He spoke for hours on end with his mom and dad on the matter, his mother in strong support and already envisioning her son in a uniform and his dad, while disappointed his son wouldn't immediately take over the family business at the Strongarm Butcher Shop, suggested he try to reach a rank of a Non-Commisioned Officer, such as Sergeant. The day of his 18th birthday, James enlisted and passed his advanced training with flying style, if not spotlessly. His record had at least four different times when he'd smarted off to his Drill Sergeant. Having served for six years, he's never quite made it past Lance Corporal because of his mouth. Most recently, his smart mouth got him attached to the Gallian Militia. He made a joke about his unit's captain with the captain right behind him. RP Sample: Lance Corporal James Hunt stood at his post guard the central communications area and, despite his best efforts, let loose a yawn, prompting PFC Hendricks, James's companion for the day to elbow him in the gut. "Come on, Corporal, I'm the one supposed to yawn after being at this all day. Wake up." Corporal James looked over at the PFC and yawned again, just to get on the PFC's nerves. Hendricks's response was to elbow the Corporal even harder. With a chuckle, James looks at the PFC again and slams his own elbow into Hendrick's gut, making the PFC double over. "And miss all the uneventful stuff that goes on during communications guard detail? What ever would I do without you Hendricks?" Shaking his head scornfully, James leans back against the wall again and watches people come and go. Lieutenants, Majors, Colonel Majors, all these important people going in and out of the building and not one cared that the Lance Corporal and the PFC were bickering. "Besides, Captain Riserre only put us here because he's got a massive stick up his ass. Even Major Derald has issues with him." At this point, PFC Hendricks was giving the universal sign of stop as the Captain was right behind James. "Look at me, I'm Captain Riserre and I think I can rule my unit with an iron fist. Lance Corporal Hunt, you get all the boring assignments because I don't want you taking my job. And while you're at it, take Hendricks with you, he's too dull to make good company." James laughed and Hendricks facepalmed as Riserre cleared his throat, which had James standing at attention quickly. "So you think I'm worried about you taking my job do you?" James quickly shook his head in the universal sign for negatory and the Captain laughed and walked away. James turned and slugged Hendricks in the arm. "Thanks for the warning, jack ass." Hendricks shrugged and went back to watching people going in the communications center. "I tried to tell you Captain Smart Ass." James grunted in a disapproving matter. "No, you kept making a bunch of weird hand gestures, which isn't telling me anything."</s> <|message|>Evan Carn Evan's Post The battle appeared to be won, but the collapsing buildings filled Evan with trepidation even as the imperials retreated. Someone might have gotten injured in that fight, and the Darcsen would not be happy if their medical supplies remained out of reach for long. Setting up a course for the hamlet, Evan drove the APC towards the group of people rallying around the buildings. ... When he arrived, the Darcsen was shouting orders and the majority of the squad seemed to either be tending to injuries or trying to excavate one of the collapsed houses. After he climbed out of the APC and jumped to the ground, Evan hustled over to Harald, yelling: "Darcsen! Just got here. The APC's got medical supplies in the back incase you need it." before rushing over to the collapsed building. Brutish though he may be, Evan was not stupid. From all the people trying to excavate the rubble, someone had to still be trapped inside and his sheer muscle mass would make him invaluable in the rescue attempt. As he began his work, lifting the heaviest pieces of rubble that the rest of the squad had trouble even moving, he noticed that a few of the wounded were helping with the rescue. The fact that the quiet, usually standoffish girl, Brenna was helping despite her wounds made him concerned. If even she was helping despite her wounds, the attack must not have gone well at all... the majority of the squad must have been wounded. How the hell were they supposed to hold the crossroads in this state? "ONE, TWO, THREE... HEEEEEAAAAAAVE!" With a mighty tug, Evan helped several other squad members raise a partially buried beam, revealing a terribly wounded and nearly dead Lilly in the gap underneath it. Straining and bracing himself so that the beam did not fall back down on top of her, Evan yelled to the rest of the squad. "I'LL HOLD THIS! GET HER OUT OF THERE! ... SOMEONE GET THE DAMN MEDICAL KIT!" It didn't look like there was anything around that could be used to prop up the beam in short order, so Evan held it on his knee, before squatting down to position his shoulder under it and lift again. A new shower of dust coated Lilly from the movement of the beam, but that was the least of her worries. Evan was more concerned about if they could get her out before his strength inevitably failed and forced him to lower the beam. He could hold it... He had to. He wasn't going to let someone die because he, he who was easily the strongest in the squad, gave up due to simple exhaustion. His every muscle strained as he held the beam in place, and sweat dripped down his face. The beam did not move, though. He would never let that happen. Fuckin' piece of shit imps... They'll pay for this.</s> <|message|>James Hunt PFC James Hunt|Le Haye Sainte post battle James did his best to help in the excavation efforts to get the buried out of the other house, but fate had decided that he was going to receive an even bigger splinter through the leg for dodging a second tank round, this one only partly through his leg and hurting much worse than the first. When Evan heaved up the beam, James was there, trying to assuage the damage. "Ah hell. Sorry Lilly, but I gotta get you out." Turning to the others, he yelled out, "Hey, she's pinned to the damned wall! Get the med supplies ready cause I gotta pull her off it!" Gritting his teeth against the pain in his own leg, he grabbed Lilly and pulled, sliding her forward. I hat this, I hate this, I hate this. Imps are gonna fucking die. Lilly groaned slightly as he pulled, but not much else. Grunting in pain and exertion, he pulled again, this time getting her free. Dragging her outside, he pulled off his jacket and put it under her while grabbing the surprisingly intact nearby curtain and putting it on top of the wound and pushing with one hand while slapping her face with the other. "Wake up, Lilly, come on. You can't rest now or you won't wake up. Come on, stay with me, focus on the sound of my voice. Come on." Not eliciting a response, he kept it up for a good couple minutes before looking at his squad mates. "Not a fucking word." And then he kissed her, trying to shock her into wakefulness. The trick had worked for others in situations far less dire, so it might work now. Pulling back, he prayed it had worked.</s> <|message|>Regan Durandal Private Regan Durandal Just as she was walking along the center hall, beside the stairs, the second round hit. "That thing's not dead- oh. Oooh no." Regan quickly set her mortar lance down and grabbed the hilt of her sword. She felt safer with that in her hand, honestly. Part of the wall buckled in toward her and she rolled to the side. Her sword flashed as she drew it to cut a support beam that was falling toward her, and she used her strength to push the part she cut off away. She was fortunate she was in the stairwell of a two story building. She really only had to worry about- The roof! And how was she going to deal with it?! Her exit was already blocked. Not that she had time to run anymore anyway. Shit! Well, here we go. Just as Mother taught me... She brought her sword across one section of the ceiling above falling toward her. Before she could make a second swing, it struck her and knocked her out. ~~~ The brunette woke before long, with a mild headache but a terrible pain in her right shoulder. Dislocated, she could tell, but she couldn't see the accompanying gash on her back. The section of roof that hit her... it hadn't crushed her? No, it... looked like there was room to crouch here. As she looked around, she spotted the support beam she cut earlier, with some other rubble in the corner, under a section of the roof above her head. The cut she had made had saved her, the section she cut away was propped over here, against the section of support beam she had cut down earlier. "I... should probably be dead." She ran her left hand through her hair, sitting herself up. She had room to sit up, and she wasn't impaled on anything or anything. A few cuts and bruises, but... Damn. Ah! She heard voices from nearby. Allies? The private pushes herself to a crawl, favoring her left for the wound on her right. and maneuvers her way through the remains of the building, searching out the voices. 'It's cold... it's very cold down here.' That didn't sound good. She'd better hurry up. She found a foot amid the rubble, but another approached, and pulled the woman off of her impalement. "W-wait, you'll open her wound!" She winces, peering up from the nearby hole she found that let her see Lilly. To just pull her free like that... Eugh. "Dammit, you fool. What're you- No, stop!" He was dragging her, in her condition? And slapping her? And-- he kissed her?! She had no words, only a sword. Where she had previously doubted her ability to draw her sword from her position, she found her body moving without her. Her left hand moved up and shoved her shoulder back into its socket. She'd never had to do it before, she she'd been intimidated by it. With her arm functional again, her sword flashed out from the sheath and cut through the wall around her. As the wall shifts from her assault, she pushes her way through the debris and emerges, already charging Hunt. "You vile, perverted idiot!" She shoulder checks him with her left, sheathing her sword and kneeling next to Lilly. "Oh, God, ooh, oh god, oh, God, no. I could have... but... aaaah, there's nothing I can... I- I can't... I... M-medic... Medic!" The damage from being dragged and the blood loss from being pulled free from the impaling spike reduced the options to fix it. Even though she'd gotten Hunt away from her, she didn't know what to do at this point, and she didn't have any ragnaid. That was really all she could think of...</s>

<|message|>James Hunt James Hunt|Le Haye Sainte Sliding a ways, he doesn't move far when the shoulder check connects, letting loose a growl when it aggrivates the large splinter still sitting in his leg, and returns the favor, with twice the force, putting pressure back on the wound, his face dark. "You want to leave her there and let her fucking die of infection or risk her getting hurt worse?" He shakes his head. "No wonder the regular army thinks ninety percent of the militia shouldn't bother joining it, you're dense as hell!" Someone shows up with a can of ragnaid and James thanks them, quickly applying it to the wound. "Evan couldn't hold the beam forever and the quicker we got her out, the better, made treating her easier and safer for all involved." Satisfied, he put the makeshift bandage back to the wound. "Second, she's going unconscious with heavy blood loss, doesn't take a genius to know is bad. Slapping her was an effort to wake her up, basic field care. If that doesn't work, do something that'll shock 'em awake, surprises them. She'd already gotten a giant piece of wood through her, so I went with the next best thing. And I sure as hell ain't so twisted as to shove my fingers into her wound to make pain wake her up." Pushing Lilly gently onto her side, he applies ragnaid to the other side of the wound before laying her down and continuing to put down pressure. "I actually enlisted, I got to run actual scenarios where these things happened. While you all were getting slaughtered in Rineheim, the regular army was taking casualties on the border, living these scenarios. We left two people impaled on spikes like that, they were dead in minutes. The one we managed to get to a get free? We were able to treat and safe him. Next time you think you know better than the trained soldier, shove it up your ass. Any further issues should be handled by the Sarge, not someone of my rank."</s>

<|description|>Juliana Winters Age: 24 Species: Human Gender: Female Appearance: Of average height and wiry build, Juliana has black hair (usually dyed dark red), and soft green eyes. Her face is marred by an angular scar, slanting down from her forehead to her cheek. Off duty, she dresses in casual, but practical clothes, preferring to wear jeans and a denim jacket, along with plain shirts without logos or images. In the field, she wears standard tactical gear, with pouches for stowing items, with liberal padding and light plating for comfort and protection. Some reference images. Equipment: A wallet containing photo IDs, petty cash, loose change, and various cards. She also carries a small data tablet for communications and such, which is kept in a reinforced case when not in use, to shield it from shrapnel and bullets. Around her neck she wears a spent casing of a sniper bullet, engraved with the initials of her fallen comrades. Her weapons of choice are a kukri combat knife, a high-calibre 7-shot revolver, and a semiautomatic mid-range rifle that uses 10-round clips. Skills: Aside from her capability as a mech pilot, Juliana also has some talent as a sniper, scout, and tracker, as these skills mesh well with her preference for solo work. Personality: Optimistic and aloof, Juliana is something of a free spirit, eager for any opportunity to demonstrate her prowess in battle. Though she isn't always the best as teamwork, she's nonetheless incredibly loyal to her comrades. Her most defining characteristic is her upbeat attitude; no matter how stark a situation, she will find a way to alleviate it with sarcasm or snark. Bio: Born on a colony world already floundering due to overpopulation, Juliana's upbringing was one where decent meals were few and far between, and luxuries were practically non-existent. To combat their population problems, the colony leaders resorted to compulsory military conscription, so when Juliana reached 18, she – along with many others – were sent off-world to join the war machine of the colony's founding empire. Suffice to say, it wasn't a fun experience. Raw recruits were given barebones training, assigned to substandard mechs, and thrown into the gruelling meatgrinder of the front lines, their lives little more than numbers on a spreadsheet in the eyes of the commanders. Juliana was one of those lucky enough to make it through to the other side of her obligatory three years with nothing but a few superficial scars to show for it. Many of her friends weren't so lucky. Although she wished to put the horrors of her military service behind her, Juliana had difficulty readjusting to civilian life, and was unable to hold down work, leading her to once again throw herself into the fray, this time as a mercenary, unbeholden to the fallacies of ideology or patriotism. Weaknesses: Having lost a great many friends and comrades during her three years spent as a soldier, Juliana has difficulty making new friends and opening up to others. She prefers to conduct operations mostly on her own, fearing deep down that her companions will let her down, or get themselves killed because of her mistakes. She also has a healthy disrespect for authority figures. Mech Name: Banjo Mech Chassis: Australovenator-Class Strider Mech Class: Medium Appearance: i.imgur.com/atdnEsv.png Armament Centre Torso Hardpoint: Medium LRM pod. Left Torso Hardpoint: Medium machine gun array. Right Torso Hardpoint: Light laser (x2). Left Arm Hardpoint: Targeting assist laser, simple claw hand. Right Arm Hardpoint: Particle Projector Cannon.</s> <|message|>Iral Vijil IC: Iral Vijil The raptor didn't reply with a snarky comment to Brae, speaking in a more cautious tone. "Covering number Three." He said in confirmation.</s> <|message|>Natalia Faust Natalia Faust "Negative, Tiger Six, the local forces will not be assisting us today. You're on your own out there."</s> <|message|>Juliana Winters IC: Juliana Winters - Into the Swamp. "Say, commander, what are the chances that the prison might've put trackers in their prisoners or mechs?" Juliana started to move Banjo forward, the heavy mech swiftly sinking past its ankles after its first step. "More specifically, what are the chances that they might throw us a bone and share that kind of info with us?"</s> <|message|>Natalia Faust Natalia Faust "Unlikely on a planet like this. It's nearly impossible to cross the swamps without hovercraft or mechs, which the planetary government keeps armed for infantry and light vehicle combat. They probably don't see a need to, Tiger Four."</s> <|message|>Taia Sal IC: Taia Sal - Rightwards "Do we have their last known location, at the very least?"</s> <|message|>Juliana Winters IC: Juliana Winters - The Swamp. "I suppose that would've been too easy," she sighed, as Banjo continued to stride slowly into the swamp. She started to angle left, as Skoll had suggested, "Alright, Tigers, you know the drill. Stay in radio contact, and give 'em hell."</s> <|message|>Knox Iliand Knox Iliand-ship Knox finished the drop-ship's systems check. "Purring like a young feline as the humans say. But I wonder why something so delicious is apart of that saying." he said to himself. He walked up to the command center and checked the comms. He checked the systems of each mech to clarify the mission's progress. "The ships radar is having an issue seeing due to the climate, but it seems ya'll be fine."</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll "That's a negative Tiger Two, given the track record of responses we've had so far." Seeker stepped off the permacrete air strip and began to trudge through the muck. Already the strained groans can be heard as servos and pistons work just to keep the mech moving. "Stick with the buddy system, people, and keep your heads on a swivel."</s> <|message|>Juliana Winters IC: Juliana Winters - The Swamp. Banjo continued trudging languidly through the marshy undergrowth, its wide-splayed feet leaving deep, dinosaur-esque tracks in its wake. Juliana almost started whistling to herself as her mech walked, but she forced herself to keep quiet.</s> <|message|>Brae Tessen IC: Brae Tessen Praetorian Ruin lumbered slowly through the dense bog, PPC acting as a sentry and looking for a target. Brae tapped at a console and filtered through a few spectrum scans, though nothing turned up. The Apatagor growled slightly. "Come already. Show yourselves, ronus."</s> <|message|>Iral Vijil IC: Iral Vijil "I didn't think a bunch of degenerates like them were even capable of being so bloody quiet." He muttered, eyes locked on his sensors.</s> <|message|>Natalia Faust Natalia Faust "Thank you, Mr. Iliand, I want you on standby in case we need to hot drop reinforcements." "Tiger Two, our intel put them 10 klicks away from the dropzone twenty minutes ago, estimates put them about three klicks now." As if to accentuate her point, contacts would show up on the long range sensors of each mech. Three from the north-west, another three from the south-west.</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll "I'm going to assume that you're talking about the prisoners there, Tiger One." Seeker did its best to keep pace with Banjo. Skoll looked between the scanners and the heat display.</s> <|message|>Taia Sal IC: Taia Sal - Marching forwards "Understood." She raised the laser cannon and trained it forwards. All she needed was line of sight to see the stolen mechs...</s> <|message|>Juliana Winters IC: Juliana Winters - The Swamp. "In hindsight, Skoll, perhaps those of us with the LRMs should've gone up the middle." Juliana mused, "But know that we know where they are, perhaps we should consolidate into groups of three after all."</s> <|message|>Knox Iliand Knox-Ship Knox attempted to calibrate the sensors. After a bit, success. "Boss, I have some unidentifiable contacts on sensors after calibration. They might be the prisoners, but it's a bit scrambled to pick up. How's your view?"</s> <|message|>Natalia Faust Natalia Faust "Fine. To your station, Mr. Iliand, do not make me repeat myself a third time."</s> <|message|>Knox Iliand Knox-Ship "Yes boss." and he went to the drop bay. Helios Striker hung from it's bay, completely offline. He climbed up and started systems check. He routed the line to his mech's comms. "In position, boss. All systems green." and he grabbed a thermos from under the seat. "And Standing by. (takes a sip) Ick! I forgot I put to sugar in this!"</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll "Copy that Tiger Four." Tapping a few buttons on his control panel, Skoll brings up the icons for Tiger One and Tiger Three. "Tiger One, Tiger Three, this is Tiger Six. Argonaut just updated our maps, you both catch it?" @VahkiDane</s> <|message|>Iral Vijil IC: Iral Vijil "Yeah, but neither me or number Three can actually see the bastards." He muttered over the comms, closely monitoring the greenery. His claw fingered the button, ready to open fire.</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll "Copy that. Tiger One, link up with Tiger Two and Tiger Five. Tiger Three, link up with Tiger Four and myself. That way we'll have better numbers when we cut them off." @VahkiDane</s> <|message|>Brae Tessen IC: Brae Tessen Brae nodded and spoke into the comms. "On my way." Praetorian broke off from the other mech and slowly moved towards the others. She growled as her mech's foot became lodged in a rather sticky patch of mud, and it took a while to get it free. "Hold your position, Praetorian's having a tough time in the bog, and I don't want to lose you." Brae grunted as her mech slogged through the swamp.</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll "Understood, Tiger Three." Seeker turned on its torso axis and looked over at Banjo. "Tiger Four, hold position and keep an eye out. Tiger Three is having terrain trouble."</s> <|message|>Juliana Winters IC: Juliana Winters - Swamp. "Understood," Juliana didn't completely cease her advance, but she did slow Banjo's already-languid pace considerably, "Let's hope the enemy are having as much trouble with the landscape as we are."</s> <|message|>Iral Vijil IC: Iral Vijil Seeing Brae's situation, Iral stopped, moving his small mech closer to Praetorian and keeping watch. "With due respect Six, I'm going to stay by Tiger Three until she frees herself. This would literally be the worst time to get jumped, no?"</s> <|message|>Brae Tessen IC: Brae Tessen Brae managed to rip Praetorian free of the mud, and slowly moved towards Skoll and Winters. "Tiger Three on approach. Apologies for the wait. Praetorian um latum vok vetaris."</s> <|message|>Iral Vijil IC: Iral Vijil (Tiger 1) Stalker Judge split off from Brae, his quick and light frame making his way over to the other two mech pilots. "Tiger number One on the move, following Two and Five's position."</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll [Tiger Six] "Copy that Tiger One, tracking you on map display." Seeker torso-twisted to face Praetorian's approach. "Welcome to our merry little hunting party, Tiger three, spotting your approach."</s> <|message|>Zyreq'riis Zyreq'riis - Tiger 5 "Acknowledged." Zyreq absentmindedly responded. He was focused on getting his medium mech through the thick swamp while keeping an eye out for any enemy combatants.</s> <|message|>Juliana Winters IC: Juliana Winters (Tiger 4) - Swamp. "Welcome to the party, Brae. We'll try to save one for you, but no promises."</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll [Tiger Six] Seeker turns back to face Banjo and trudges through the swamp behind the lighter class mech. "This is Tiger Six to Tigers One, Two, and Five. Any sign of enemy contact on your end?" @VahkiDane @Ehksidian</s> <|message|>Zyreq'riis Zyreq'riis - Tiger 5 "Negative, no contact yet."</s> <|message|>Brae Tessen IC: Brae Tessen - Tiger Three Brae let out a deep growl and scowled. "Where are they? My sensors aren't picking up a thing." She went through multiple spectrums, but still nothing. Praetorian was blind.</s> <|message|>Iral Vijil IC: Iral Vijil (Tiger 1) "No." Iral was beginning to sound frustrated.</s> <|message|>Skoll {OOC; I know the o is struck through, just imagine it with two little dots over it and pronounce it that way} IC: Skoll [Tiger Six] "Alright, alright. Keep calm. Focus. Getting riled up just because we can't see anything doesn't mean they aren't there." Skoll checked his heat dissipation levels then looked over to his scanning equipment, absentmindedly flicking through the various visual spectrums. "Though to be honest," He muttered under his breath, feeling his own frustration boiling up. "I should probably take my own advice..." Tapping at his communications panel again, he brought up the icon for the Argonaut. "Argonaut, this is Tiger Six. Do we have any new data as to last known locations? Has anything remotely interesting come up?"</s>

<|message|>Juliana Winters IC: Juliana Winters (Tiger 4) - Swamp. "Guys... Faust literally just said that they'd be about 3 klicks away," Juliana pointed out, continuing her trudging advance towards the contacts to the South-West, "Of course they're not going to be in visual range yet."</s>

<|description|>King Hendrick of Dainia "asoiaf: Aerion Targaryen" by MathiaArkoniel licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 The current king of Dainia and father to the twin princes of the kingdom. He is highly admired and respected by the people of Dainia, and only few know of his intention to end the bloodline of the royal family of Lunar by finding the heir to the throne of the enemy state. Queen Velda of Dainia "Historically accurate Disney - Belle" by Niobesnuppa licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 The current queen of Dainia and mother to the twin princes of the kingdom. She is highly admired and respected by the people of Dainia, and it is unrevealed if she shares or is even aware of the king's intention regarding the heir to the throne of Lunar.</s> <|message|>King Hendrick of Dainia Eliezer nodded at Raven's question. "I am having a lovely time with you as always, my lady. Although I may not express this in a way that you are used to, I do hope that I can convince you that it is the truth. This location is somewhat playing a part in the way I feel as well, for it brings me back to a happier time, back when things were simpler." The prince then turned to his butler in slight confusion as Allister appeared with a serving tray. The lake and the pavilion were some distance away from the palace, and it seemed rather strange that he would come all the way out here just to bring them refreshments. Granted, Allister appeared to have grown fond of him and Mathazar, and would usually be vigilant regarding the safeties of the princes, but he should have known that there were guards in the area even though they were out of sight. Perhaps it had been Mathazar who had sent him out to check if everything was fine. "The gesture is much appreciated, Allister, but you did not have to trouble yourself in such a way. After all, this place is quite a long walk from the palace," Eliezer pointed out. Allister seemed to take a significant amount of interest in Raven, even the day before when he mentioned her in the palace study. Raven, in turn, had an unexpectedly strong reaction to the butler's attempt at getting to know her. It was only natural to want to know more about the significant other of a prince that he served, which was why Eliezer was puzzled by her hostility towards him. However, as the conversation started to go towards Raven having to bring up traumatic memories, he decided that it was time to put it to a stop. "Thank you for coming out here, Allister," Eliezer interjected after Raven's mention of Wynton Forest, his tone implying that he desired to be left alone with his lady. His suspicions were correct after all. Raven was indeed a survivor of the Wynton Forest Raid, and her family was killed by order of his own. How was it that she could even bear to be close to him? That was the only thing that did not make sense. He did not want to question her motives any longer, but with such facts considered, what he currently had with her seemed to good to be true, unless she was motivated to do for the residents of Dainia what she felt his parents had failed to. She could most likely make a big difference if she married into the royal family. Eliezer wanted the best for Dainia as well. It was his responsibility, and because of what she had revealed to him, he now knew how he could make things better for his people. He considered letting her know that he had discovered that she was of Lunar noble descent, but decided against it, thinking it would be best to address this one step at a time. "Do not harbor animosity towards Allister, my lady. He is merely protective of me." He then took her hands into his and look her straight in the eyes before speaking again. "I have been made aware of what truly took place in Wynton Forest, and what my family had done to yours and many others. I can only apologize to you on their behalf, although I do acknowledge that it would do little to make up for the pain you have been put through. As heir to the throne of Dainia, I will give you my word to do my very best in ensuring that innocent people shall not suffer as they did then, and if you are to be the one to rule by me, I foresee you having a significant part in it all."</s> <|message|>King Roberto of Lunar Raven was mainly annoyed by Allister for he never knew when to stop prying information from her and she hated it for she had no clue what Allister was up to. FOr he looked like a faithful servent but at the same time something seems off like he was there for his own reasons but she had no clue why. Alister soon smiled and bowed. "Of course your majesty forgive my intrusion I will take my leave now." He siad and walked off but to go write his letter to the lunar king for he finally found her for he knew he could not keep this information any longer for he knew the king is waiting desperately for the information about Aster's daughter. Once he was gone Raven was glad for she did not like him one bit. But she looked at Eliezer when he started talking to her but was wondering how he found out already she was from Wynton Forest But Lao what really happened but when she told him how the king sent guards out into the night to kill innocent people it looked like he did not believe her. But what made he shocked was that he was basically considering her to rule by his side. She had blushed a bit for she did think it would not be a bad idea to be by his side since she had basically fallen for him. But she had wanted him to pick her not because she was the right fit for the kingdom but how she was also the right fit in his heart. "Wow thank you Eliezer and true an apaology is not enough but it is a start along with helping those who once lived there and had to flee." Raven said with a smile at him for she had to admit he was nothing like his father at all and was glad she got to know him more along with trying to break him out of his princely doll like shell. SHe had been able to chip at it little by little but she was glad to see him trying to open himself up more to the world around him. "I know with baby steps things will start to get better." She said with a smile at him. "I am really glad I got to meet you Eliezer and to be able to be with you like this I will be honest I did hate your family for what happened to me but after being with you and seeing you wanting to do these things I don;t really hate you, though your father he still a different story with me" Raven said basically admitting she did not like them but it did change after being with Eliezer but his father was still not on her good list more like he was still on her kill list. "You make me really Happy Eliezer ad honestly the dark place I was trapped in has been slowly fading away the more I spend time with you." Raven explained to him.</s> <|message|>King Hendrick of Dainia While he conversed with Raven, Eliezer thought back to Allister's unusual request. Why would he ask for the time? As the palace butler, he would always be the one person concerned with keeping the time to ensure that everyone else was on schedule. It was very unlike him to come out here without his own watch on him. That was when he realized how that inquiry had led to the exchange about Raven's pocket watch and eventually about a little of her past. There was definitely something that Allister knew that he was not telling the prince, or perhaps, he had been trying to show him by making Raven take the watch out. No, he already knew that Eliezer was aware of the significance of the watch. That was why he had taken so much interest in the fact that Eliezer was reading up on Lunar, and then proceeded to mention Raven at the library the day before. However, if his actions were not for the safety of the prince, then what was he trying to achieve? Regardless, apart from Eliezer and Mathazar, Allister also had knowledge of Raven's bloodline, and things were only going to get worse if this information was to reach his parents. Sure, Allister did keep the princes' secrets from the king and queen, but the crown prince considering marrying a noble of an enemy state was no ordinary secret. Eliezer had to have a talk with Allister regarding this whole situation. He then took in what Raven said, finding the way she had expressed that particular thought to be rather strange. "After being with me? Well, it's quite a wonder that you even accepted the invitation to the palace ball where we had met for the first time, or protected my brother when you saw him in danger." Eliezer did not want to sound accusing, but he had to admit that it did not quite add up. Her feelings for him did seem genuine, but what did he actually know when it came to romance or even just personal interaction? Unfortunately, she had been the one who had taught him everything he knew about the subject, and logically, seeing how this feeling of 'love' puts one in such a vulnerable state, he felt the need to ensure that she was hiding absolutely nothing before he placed his feelings for her above any other negative thoughts his mind might come up with. "Making you happy? I'm not too sure how I'm actually doing such a thing, but I'm glad to have induced such positive feelings in you. That is the duty of a significant other, is it not?" He then paused, gesturing to the refreshments that the butler had brought them. "Please, help yourself."</s> <|message|>King Roberto of Lunar "Well mainly your father I hate the most to be honest my plan was to use you to get close to him and all that junk but after being with you and spending time with you the feeling of wanting to confront your father or even take revenge upon him started to well disappear for thanks to you I am actually slowly even starting to become truly happy again." Raven said to I'm with a smile. Raven basically let slip a small part of her pan but he still held no knowedge of who she was for being a killing machine basically. But it was true her need for revenge was no longer a desire of her for she found something else that gave her a reason to be happy and live. She looked at him for when he said that he was actually making her happy and she looked at him. "Not making me happy you cant be serious right?" Raven asked him and smiled at him. "You basically went along with my crazy request to go into the village with me, trying to make up for what happened in my past, grave me this beautiful brooch, and just spending time with me like this I am actually at my happiest that I have ever been." Raven said to him. "You have really made me happy so far that most of the darkness of my past I dwelled in has been fading thanks to you." She said with a smile at him. "You do have the ability to do it Eliezer for you have done it so far in my honest opinion." She said to him with a smile before leaning over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You are amazing Eliezer and will make a great king in the future." She siad before taking a sip from her cup and enjoyed the snacks that Allister brought them for at least the snacks and tea was good. She then smiled and just enjoyed her time with Eliezer taking things now one step at a time with him but in the back of her mind Mathazar did worry her for she was risking things and was worried he might try to pull something that will expose her or worst make Eliezer hate her all of a sudden.</s>

<|message|>King Hendrick of Dainia She had planned to use him to get to his father? Eliezer nearly spat out the mouthful of tea he was conveniently about to swallow. Thankfully, he managed to keep it in, coughing lightly into his fist before taking a deep breath. Despite his success in preventing the embarrassing event from occurring, his discomfort was apparent. He had wanted to know the truth, and now that she had willingly given it to him, it all possibly made even less sense than before. If it was the truth, then why would she tell him such a thing? The fact that she had said it in such a casual manner made it all the more unbelievable. Could it be that it was her idea of humor? It was not very often that Eliezer would be lost for words. In most cases, one would liken his eloquence to that of an actor who had learned a script by heart. It would not be strange, however, if one were to know that the prince had practically been learning his responses to most situations from 'scripts' his entire life. Almost every line spoken had been committed to memory, waiting for the right moment to be used. Unfortunately, he could find nothing this time as he searched his mind for an appropriate response to Raven's statement. Perhaps he should simply admit that to her. After all, the awkward silence had been lingering for long enough. He had to say something, even if it may not be the right thing to say. "I- I don't know what to say... Pray tell me you jest, my lady..." She did mention it was not longer the case, because of how happy he had made her. Apparently, it was the 'love' she had developed for him that inspired the change in her goals. He wanted to believe that he was truly witnessing the powerful influence of love on someone, and to some extent, he actually did, but that did not change the fact that obtaining his love was not her initial intention, and that she basically had him fooled the first time they met. Could he trust what she was saying now? Surely she knew the possible consequences of letting him know her initial goals? What if this was her trusting him to take the next step with such information in mind? He had been plagued by confusion ever since he had met Raven, but was that really a bad thing? He then managed to snap out of his thoughts and return to the current conversation, for such things could be returned to at a later time. "I simply do what I know is right or appropriate, my lady, and if it all makes you happy, then I am glad to have succeeded in doing so. I also thank you for your encouragement, although there are many times when you have implied that I am inadequate in certain areas. I trust that you have seen an improvement?" Her kiss felt... pleasant. All logic aside, his relationship with Raven was something he honestly wanted. It was the first thing he could remember desiring that he was not told he should desire. That was not wrong, was it? It could be, if the safety of his family was at risk. It was all very overwhelming at the moment, perhaps speaking with Allister and Mathazar might ease his mind a little.</s>

<|description|>Theresa "Thisa" Thompson Age: 16 Gender: Female Personality: A fairly quiet and reserved girl, not for reasons such as shyness but from indifference. Thisa prefers to stay out of the daily affairs of others, sometimes life can be troublesome enough without bringing in someone else's issues. That said Thisa is normal socially, friends come easily enough and a conversation is welcomed, even she can get lonely. Due to her naturally reclusive nature, Thisa is slow to anger and can be extremely patient in fact she can't remember the last time she has ever been angry, which is what she may say. When pushed Thisa has a very harsh temper, when truly angry she can and will become quite aggressive. A good analogy would be to describe her as a stick of dynamite with a very long fuse, it'll take a while but the results would still be drastic. There one true fire way to get Thisa talking is to mention technology, its one subject she can never get enough of. Talent: Skilled Mechanic: Thisa for her age makes a great mechanic, and a small time inventor. If its physical Thisa can understand it and even reconstruct it just with a few quick glances. Her skills have also been somewhat lucrative with people coming to her for repairs on broken down items. Her prowess in mechanics don't translate quite into computers, sure she's competent in their operation but otherwise is about average. Ability: Finely-Tuned Mechanisms: Thisa's ability comes around the idea of creation, she can manipulate inorganic matter into virtually any machine, and theoretically of any size. There are limits of course, to create something requires an equivalent exchange, the middle of a grass field leads to very little useable material, which limits or even completely nullifies her usefulness while a junkyard can lead to endless opportunities. Another thing the initial creation of a machine taxes the body, two factors are considered, the size of the machine and the complexity. A small pulley system has almost no affect on her stamina, something of human size would be very draining at the least, and something like a full semi truck can leave her almost comatose. There is also a limit to the number of machines that can operate at once, how many again depends on the size and complexity. Once this said limit is passed machines start to break apart, or even meet a violent end for the more volatile creations. When a machine is deassembled the matter that made it up returns back to its original form, that is unless the machine is destroyed by force. Bio: Thisa is a single child who hails for a standard middle class home. From an early age her parents pushed "constructive toys" onto her, ones such as Legos or Lincoln Logs. Her father worked as an automobile technician, and her mother an aerospace engineer, because of their own success they wanted to pass it down to their daughter. Thisa took well to the toys eventually progressing from simple plastic pieces to tool kits and personal projects. Thisa created a scrapbook filled with designs and other miscellaneous drawings, some of which became a reality. One such was a robotic arm designed for a competition, a simple middle school level one so needless to say Thisa's arm won without contest. Moving onto the present day Thisa is a fresh transfer, Saint Dmyphna's Highschool offered great opportunities despite the cost of moving out there in the first place, and while Thisa isn't much for people the prospect of meeting new people was still exciting in of itself.</s> <|message|>Picture/Description: Fun fact: Louise is, in fact, the captain of the Debate Society. Why you ask? Because there is no greater pleasure to her than beating down a person with words. It is a part of her personality and the core of her talents. Lietman looked like he wanted to start a fight, but a look from Anderson stopped him. You do not pick fights in Louise's presence. The small girl thought about what to say for roughly half a second, before responding. "Oh? So self-defense is what you're claiming then? Self-defense implies that she would defend against her aggressors and her aggressors only. What part of what she did looked like reasonable self-defense to you? Also your trying to shift the blame on them is useless. On the topic of Therese's stress, what about _Lietmans_ stress? As you said, he is his _boss_ and it is _in fact_ his job to oversee their fight. The stakes on the position of liuetenant of a Ruler are _no joke_, and it's fairly accurate that he was under _more_ stress than Therese; does that mean Therese is in the wrong for not complying with him and telling him where Michael was?. This moot point anyway. I already said that they would get their own sentences, but first off: "Michael is a known prankster. What he did might be written of as sexual harassment, however, did he ever once express purpose in regards to this towards Thisa? Based on past precedent, he did not. He plays this jokes on men as well as women and the places he appears in are the ones were his target would be most embarrassed. He once poked his head out of a junior football players jacket, but he didn't claim sexual harassment, now did he? Oh, it's definitely stupid to pop out of a woman's skirt, but is there even one instance of him touching Thisa at an inappropriate place? "Secondly: What the girl did no longer counts as self-defense. It destroyed property, endangered more than just her target, and she explicitly expressed anger towards _everyone_ in the cafeteria. This changes the picture completely, and is the main point of her sentence. She-over-did-it." Louise took a deep breath. "Also, boy, you're killing your own character here. What you're doing right now is protecting her. You're trying to share some of the punishment. Yes, you are helping her, but the nature of that is by taking the blows for her. You really think she's more than capable? The why the fuck did you not respect her wishes and back off, instead you continued your own relentless defending of her despite her wishes. Get it? You're not doing her any favors, Harold. "Lastly . . . you couldn't stop Michael or Lietman from doing what they did, so _instead_ you just watch and wait until a crisis comes where you have the ability to solve it? That's low, Harold. Just because you _can't help, you won't_? Ha! In that regard, even Lietman is better than you are! Besides, there are so many things you _could_ have done! You could have talked to Michael, who might have have stopped Lietman and his actions, or you could have talked to Anderson, who _definitely_ would have stopped them both! "_Face it_: You just stood by and watched while that all went on, never even considering the possibility of preventing this disaster just because you felt like you couldn't do a thing. You're _useless_ here and sadly inept at _'helping your best friend'_ - so just what do you hope to accomplish here anyway?"</s> <|message|>Theresa "Thisa" Thompson Harold was really trying, Thisa could respect that act in of itself... but he did go against what she wanted, to be honest what happened was leagues better then what she expected, still not great. By this point her emotions have normalized, she was able to think clearly again although by no means cheerful, Thisa remained very somber. She lightly pushed Harold out of the way after speaking a few words to him, "You've tried, and thank you, but I have to speak for myself." Thisa once again stood in front of Louise. Normally she would have been terrorized to be speaking face to face with the marshal herself, but after the recent events Thisa couldn't muster a single trace of strong emotion, in turn this resulted in some kind of courage. She looked Louise in the eye, took a deep breath, then started, "I don't want to debate any of this, there is nothing to debate, there are dozens of witnesses who seen the same thing, and I agree with them. I have... a temper when pushed, that is no excuse as I should be in control regardless, I did summon my knight out of anger, it was summoned with the intent of harm. I realize I have broken laws and punishment is just. I however have two requests despite whatever the outcome may be, one Harold is not blamed for any action, or inaction on his part." "Second I must be the one to restore the cafeteria." Thisa pointed to the pile of metal that was used to animate her machine. "One factor of my ability is once a machine is dissembled anything that was used in its creation returns to its original form, as you can see everything is how it was before. I want to personally find the owners of each personal object to return it, I also want to store away any cafeteria items like trays, and silverware back to its proper place. This is my mess and I believe it is needless to say I must clean it." Thisa bowed her head, "Beyond that of course is whatever judgment you see fit I, if possible, want my two requests fulfilled." She closed her mouth and stepped back. Thisa had the suspension that no matter what she says Louise would just hammer her down, and she mentally prepared for such.</s> <|message|>Harold Frankfurt* Harold realized that he was badly beaten. He may have been able to try to continue, but there would have been no point. He had forgotten that Thisa had a will of her own, and that this wasn't just a normal game. This was that horrible game called "Reality," and he sucked at it. Thisa wasn't just some NPC that needed protecting or assisting, or anything for that matter. She was another player, and she knew, at least kind of, what she was doing. When she gently pushed him to the side, Harold bowed his head in deafet, and moved back, whispering: "I apologize Thisa." Before he stepped out of her way. After a moment, he listened to Thisa's requests, and was generally ready to protest once more, but he thought better of it. He'd already disrespected her own freedom and authority over her life, and he would have to accept her own infingement in return. After Louise had pointed out how badly he had tossed aside Thisa, Harold felt his emotions slip away once more. He was back to normal, well, normal for Harold anyway, and as such would do his best not to make another scene. He silently went back to his normal "Stare and Wait" routine, and turned it on Louise, awaiting her verdict after his argument with her....argument, may not be the completely appropriate word for the matter, but Harold wasn't up for finding the right one. He gave another small sigh, and comtinued with what he was doing.</s> <|message|>Picture/Description: Louise stayed silent for a moment, before sighing. "How am I supposed to give the punishment when you've already asked for it? Newbies these days have no sense of fun . . ." She jotted a thumb at the mess that was the cafeteria. "Yeah, that's your punishment. Clean that shit up and return everyone's stuff with a full apology, got it? Your other punishment is to help out Michael with overseeing Lietman and Andersons fight - you get to be the judge. Other than that, you're done." Anticipating their dumbfounded looks, Louise smirked. "What, you think we'd give you some Nazi-esque hammer-down sentence? We're highschoolers, not soldiers." She turned towards Michael and his group. Her expression was much colder than the one she gave to Thisa. "As for you, shit-for-brains, I warned you to stop with the shadow pranks. And you, big blonde and dumb, keep your temper in that empty head of yours. Once your fight is over, I'm taking away your abilities for a week, got it?" Michael nodded eagerly, glad he didn't get sent to 'the Louise Room', however, Lietman turned red in the face. "I-" His mouth had barely opened when suddenly Louise patted him on the head. It was a funny gesture, since he was far taller than she was and she actually had to tiptoe to reach his head. Still, he paled and quickly tried to apologize. "I-" "Too late." Lietman sank to the floor, blubbering like an idiot and shivering like mad with tears streaming down his face. "Ubbu gueh augh auddududuuur uuuuuuhh . . . auuuu gahhhaahaha ooor~" Louise turned to everyone in left in the room. She was smiling slightly. "Any other objections?"</s> <|message|>Harold Frankfurt* Harold felt pretty stupid when he heard what the punishment was. (I suppose I just thought it'd be a little harsher based upon how the crowd responded....). It was at that moment when Harold realized that he'd effective been duped by the population of this school. Harold suddenly was a lot more displeased with life. But, he only shook his head side to side and quirked an eyebrow up at Louise's question and Lietman's state respectively. He realized that Louise really had left him out of the punishment, and although he was relieved at that, he also wasn't sure if he should help Thisa out or not. Mostly with the cleaning. She could do the social part. Yup, Harold was still the same self-centered asshole underneath all of the wannabeness. (Oh well. I guess I'll just utalize my oppotunities the same way I always have....). And as such, he felt that Thisa was likely to realize that Harold has a bit of a procrastination streak when it came to major work. That, and that he hated socializing. With a burning passion. He gavve a grim grin to Louise though. Surprised at what she could do with just a touch, a little fearful at what she'd do to him should he ever actually piss her off, and at how relatively light she would punish Thisa after how sharp she was in that....unnamed event. Harold wasn't sure how to feel about that. Maybe he should also look into finding the debate club around here....it might do him some good in the future.</s>

<|message|>Theresa "Thisa" Thompson Thisa nodded and turned around, on the surface her mood didn't change, however on the inside was a whole different story, pure relief. The massive weight on her that's been lifted did wonders to improve her mood as she passed by Harold, Thisa flashed a small smile, first since all the series of events been set in motion, "You didn't do what I asked, really wanted you to back off... but I would be lying if I were to say I wasn't somewhat happy to know someone was by my side. Really thanks for that. Now I need to get changed back into my clothes, don't exactly remember when it happened but I lost them partway through as you can see." Thisa motioned towards her t-shirt, "After that I need to get started with cleaning up. I don't know if Louise would want you to get involved, but I wouldn't mind the company if you're up for hanging out while I carry out this part of my sentence." This complete change in her mood might confuse people, but Thisa is someone who rapidly changes to stay positive, anger really doesn't work with her. Thisa then proceeded to get changed back, before starting the clean up.</s>

<|description|>Alf Hanson Hey Mick :p Age: Seventeen Gender: Male Species: Gifted Human Abilities: Since his eleventh birthday Alf is able to see fae creatures. Moreover, in his veins flow sparks of power deriving from nothing less than the norse god of light Baldr (who, actually, was an incredibly powerful summer fae). He is, unfortunately, unaware of these divine abilities and of his heritage passed on by his danish ancestors. Most of his powers lie dormant, still, he is capable with great willforce to shift the light in his field of sight, altering the look of his surroundings. Other than that, he is your average american teen, fond of sports, music and art, friendly to most and with good grades. Bio: Alf grew up in a lively household, where elements of vitality and creativity came together in a complementary fashion. He therefore appears full of youthful vigor and humor, though his stubbornness and silly behaviour often classify him as immature. He discharges his energy always giving himself something to do, avoiding remaining idle or slacking around when things allow it. In fact, his character is variable, and, depending on the period and his mood, changes form and expression. He doesn't quite know what he wants yet, but neither puts his efforts in discovering it. He manages his life on a week-basis, not always questioning himself about the future, yet searching for long term relationships of any kind. His life rolls by and by, and although this may not be favourable in the long run, he is happy, and thus doesn't question himself. Towards others he is very solar and soft-hearted, even naïve and gullible at times: thanks to this he is surrounded by a decent amount of friends, of whom he has and at the same time hasn't necessity to enjoy the day. He really likes music, especially medieval-ish one, although he is completely incapable of playing any instrument outside of the flute. Creativity and imagination are highly valued by him, characteristics he passionately looks for in every person he meets. Despite its unlikelihood, Alf managed to live a fairly normal childhood in Valor. His parents, Caroline and John, both originally from Los Angeles, moved in Valor when his mother inherited a rather big property from a distant uncle of hers. They mutually believed the fresh air of the small town would have been the perfect place to raise their first daughter. Good intentions do not always turn out to be such. He was born two years later, and was shortly followed by another sister. With a video-games designer father, an energetic paramedic mother and two overly affectionate sisters, no wonder he was brought up so happy-go-lucky and relaxed. During the first years of his teens, the shock caused by the sudden enrollment in the military of his older sister allowed him to discover his ancestral powers long dormant. Moreover, he realized he could see fae, thing he never shared with anyone, and thus is as of the day unaware that others may as well. Other details: His nickname is Alfie. He is somewhat thrilled by reversed damsel-in-distress situations. When scared he shrieks like a girl. He is, ironically, scared of spiders, slimy things and filth. He plays soccer, although his skills are definitely meager. Lately, a wood fae has illegally taken up residence in an old oak in front of his window, and often likes to tease him while he studies.</s> <|message|>Ira MacAlistair Ira was just settling into her languid procrastination when she was interrupted by a man's voice. She immediately discarded her half-baked lesson plan, her still-torpid mind grasping at any promise of excitement or salvation from monotonous boredom. She turned her chair and faced the man, extricating herself from her slumped posture and adopting one much more becoming. Absentmindedly flattening her dress, she responded in a voice like bell-chimes, letting tinges of the inferno drip into her timbre. She found it distasteful and vulgar, but evidently some found it impressive or, flames forbid, attractive. "Indeed we haven't, Wesley. It is a pleasure to finally make your proper acquaintance, especially on the account of such a generous offer. I was afraid that I would go mad from the work. It's happened more than once, in truth." She smiled broadly, and gestured to a spare chair that had been floating around the office for some years no, no-one willing to remove it or claim ownership. Continuing, she spoke again, her eyes never breaking contact in the interim. "So, you teach art. How are you finding the students, receptive? I've had my share of troubles shaping young minds, as it were, but I would imagine art would be a much more desirable subject for adolescents, isn't it?"</s> <|message|>Dakoth "the Reaver or the Dark One" For most of that class Dakoth had been asleep but he was aware of things around him like the lesson and what it was but he was more over just looking over every single student and judging them learning a bit about them from there actions but he opened his eyes so he wouldn't look like he was slacking off or anything, and everynow and then he kind of glanced over at the pretty girl who everyone called Ira who was talking to their art teacher, Dakoth loved art but he kind of was hitting on Ira but he kept it to himself. Dakoth started drawing a infant in the palm of a hand that was mottled with stars he thought it symbolized power and birth and the beginning of a legacy. He looked around and groaned, he couldn't find a clock so he put his hand up probably for the very first time in class he actually would speak to anyone or maybe the beginning. "Excuse me Sir," Dakoth said his voice not very loud but audible enough for a teacher. "Do you have the time?" Dakoth noticed probably this was the first time on earth he spoke and his voice sounded weak and shy unlike when he tried to overthrow hell when he bellowed and cackled with evil delight Dakoth thought he should probably make some friends or at least find something in common with someone. "Oh and what was your name again Sir?" Dakoth said lightly to the Art teacher he almost sounded like a Dove but he was a Dove from hell, and Dakoth was going to probably man up later. He waited for the class to laugh at his complete incompetence.</s> <|message|>Dakoth "the Reaver or the Dark One" No answer....Dakoth awoke slumbering against his locker in the hallway where everyone bustled about doing there own things. "Just a dream!" Dakota mumbled to himself as he stretched and then got some other school supplies out of his locker and prepared for class.</s>

<|message|>Alf Hanson It wasn't the ringing of his electronic alarm clock to wake Alf up that morning. Or, any morning at all since last month. It was a wood dryad, who drawn pleasure from shrilling at the very same hour every morning like an off-key bird, yet with a mellifluous voice. He decided to call her Silly in the end, since she had no names of her own, and mostly because she behaved like a spoiler petty princess. Before the time she took a liking of the Old Jack, the oak his grandfather -called not strangely Jack himself- planted in their garden, he knew very little of fae, and had never seen one so closely. Well, it wasn't like he had remarkable knowledge of the Fae now; mostly, a negative opinion. That day the unwelcome guest was performing in a series of single tone shrieks with very much expected gusto. Alf laid stretched under his duvet, eyes fully open and mouth reduced to a slit. A sigh would have exhaled in a matter of seconds, if his little sister hadn't entered the room. She loved to wander whenever possible in her brother's room, and it seemed she had just waken up as well; she was still wearing her pajamas. 'Hey Alex...' he murmured half-dead. He got up, sitting on the side of the bed, and in a slow motion raised his hand to scratch his left eye. 'Man, brother, you glimmer exactly like each morning...' she remarked seemingly uninterested. And here was problem two. For some reason, since the last week, he started shining bright in the middle of the night, and the morning he would find what he called "leftovers". Literally, when he woke up he found his body covered in some sort of oily substance of some sort, most likely, as Silly hypnotized, a magical trace. Fact was he had to wash himself every single morning now to remove that spooky Edward Cullen-likish effect. Alex exited his room, shouting to their mother he was awake. 'Good morning dustling' greeted a familiar voice from outside the window. Alf ignored the sound and awkardly stretched his arms in a mixed jointing, yawning and arching his feet fingers at the same time. He had wondered several times how did she manage to speak to him. The thought of her having eaten Old-Jack briefly creeped inside his mind, just to leave it an instant later labeled as "obnoxious thought". He convinced himsef he didn't really care in the end and moved towards his bathroom to wash his face. A little branch springed up from outdoor, and grew further inside the room until it reached the ceiling. 'You sure put up a good show this night.' said Silly, her voice reseambling tiny wheezings of wind through a closed window 'Did you turn the light off yesterday? The smell coming from your room was absolutely refreshing.' sneered. Alf squinted his eyes at her. 'Get lost.' 'My my, you are in your rebellious age after all! I guess I'll have to bear with you until you don't leave this house... or this world. Also, nice boxers, kid.' It probably was his imagination, but the cracks in the wood seemed to arch in a malicious grin. He took his clothes from a chair and headed towards the bathroom. Apparently, he got up from the wrong, yet only side of the bed. After he showered himself, Alf quickly descended the stairs to grab his lunch and something for breakfast. As usual he was alone by then, because both his parents had already left for work and his sister was nowhere to be found. Carefully locking the door behind himself, he came out into the cold air of the proceeding winter. His family cottage was built in the outermost neighbourhood of Valor, the one confining with the usual pinewoods of northern Minnesota, so the town center and the school were quite distant, and required most of the times a lift to be reached in acceptable amounts of time. Lock removed, blue beanie and hoodie's cape set on his head, Alf grabbed his bike from the garage, and headed off to school in absolute tranquility; as he got nearer to the town the houses became more clustered together than before, and the sidewalks bigger and more crowded, sighting several people he knew or had just seen around sometimes. He entered in the cycle lane, turned several corners and passed many blocks, before finally reaching his bland brick school. Ye old colonial building style, not particularly appealing in his opinion. Small american cities like Valor were teeming with these kinds of infrastructures, and thus most lacked of originality. Locked the bike to the rack on the side of the school, he headed for the secondary entrance that passed through the cafeteria. Like every morning his friends would have sit there waiting for him, discussing... well... 'What's their advantage?' shrilled a female voice on his right. There they were. Although it was crowded and noisy he could have distinguished that witty voice over one thousand. 'Forty-two.' replied a male voice, in a... rather blank tone. He seemed to be containing his own amusement for the sake of a serious conversation. 'Forty-two?!' snapped the girl back. Alf could see her bob-cut light-brown hairs sit perfectly immobile on her chair. Her name was Zane. 'England is definitely better.' said the boy sitting next to her in a marked british accent. That was Derek. 'It isn't' remarked Zane. He gave her a long stare, and stammered, faking an half-witted tone 'I-it certainly is!' 'Isn't.' it hadn't passed a second that she snapped back, arms crossed. 'Try again.' proposed, looking dissatisfied. 'Allright. Pay attention.' replied raising his finger at her and turning his head to the paper, scribbling something. 'Good morning guys.' groaned Alf, crashing on a chair at the same table. 'Look! the early bird has awaken- he seems in a bad mood.' chanted chuckling Zane, grinning snobbishly at him. 'Now that's a rare sight.' said his other friend, joining in the joke without even taking a look over the paper. Those two knew him far better than he knew himself. Smiling, he scratched his eye and lowered his cape. 'It has been a rough-' tried to say, thinking that the two friends' topic had settled. 'Shh, shh. Answer first: England-?' interrupted Derek. '-or Castile?' completed she, persuasively staring in his eyes. '-Or perhaps England?' added desperately again, avoiding eye contact with her. Alf reflected just a second. He already knew how to avoid getting dragged. 'E-U-four, right? Denmark'. He gave both a significant grin. 'Hm, I wasn't expecting that.' remarked wide-eyed Derek. 'Me neither-' she paused. Zane waited, giving an inquisitive look at both her friends. 'Check again.' insisted, turning herself at Derek. A fine bunch. Odd, awkward, somewhat creepy - well, his "staring" habits and shyness made him exactly as creepy - : those were his lovely friends.</s>

<|description|>Passive Perceptions Aurora: 14 Halander: 13 Gabriel: 12 Feras: 12 Brutrumukk: 11 Zavakri: 11 Jub: 10 Tsak: 9 Passive Investigation Aurora: 15 Jub: 12 Zavakri: 12 Gabriel: 12 Halander: 11 Tsak: 11 Brutrumukk: 10 Feras: 10 Passive Insight Halander: 13 Aurora: 12 Jub: 12 Gabriel: 12 Feras: 12 Brutrumukk: 11 Zavakri: 11 Tsak: 9 ---</s> <|message|>Gabriel, of Waterdeep G A B R I E L A frown creased the edges of the duelist's mouth at the way Brutrumukk looked at the elf and whispered something in a odd language, Gabriel gave the bugbear a pointed glare before offering a curt bow to the dignified elf with his odd clothing "Ah, I'm sure whatever our friends may be saying it is polite," he said with a sheepish smile "Gabriel, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." he introduced himself, although something told him they had already met.</s> <|message|>Jub the Peculiar Jub the Peculiar Jub's ears drooped slightly when Brutrumukk stated he wouldn't flee, though he wasn't exactly surprised. In the short time they had known each other, the bugbear hadn't shown the least bit of fear. If the incident during the dragonfly rides hadn't shaken him, the prospect of a few carnies attacking him was unlikely to make him flinch. The goblin was quiet as they made their way backstage, eying each of the carnivalfolk they passed with suspicion and making note of every available exit should he have to make an escape. When they finally met Mister Witch and Mister Light face-to-face, Jub became even more tense, the hint of a grimace forming beneath his hood. Yes, he remembered these two from eight years ago, and their dismissive attitude when he had told them what he had lost. He could only hope they didn't remember him as well. Jub was on edge that Brutrumukk's comment on Mister Witch's appearance caught him off guard and caused him to give a nervous snicker, and he had to catch himself so he didn't burst out into full out laughter. "No, no, I admit, this is a new one for me as well," he responded in goblin. At Gabriel's words, he tried his best to recollect himself before saying, this time in common, "Yes, very polite, I assure you, err, my companion was simply praising your unique dress sense." He gave a small nod to Mister Witch, putting on the most sincere face he could muster given the circumstances.</s> <|message|>Brutrumukk Brutrumukk "Prey-zing yer eunuch dress sense..." Brutrumukk said, slightly confused by the more complicated words the others were using. "Yeah, sure, whatever." Brutrumukk shook his head to banish the headache that had been forming in the back of his mind. "The name's Brutrumukk, an' the goblin on me shoulder's called Jub. Don't suppose either o' you seen a kenku sneakin' about an' tryin' to make a mess of everythin'? Or maybe someone with blue paint on the back o' their 'ead doin' the same?"</s> <|message|>Passive Perceptions Witchlight Carnival The Fourth Hour The Meeting The two leaders of the Witchlight Carnival both nod and give greetings in return to the three who already spoke up. Before Mister Light could speak up, Brutrumukk already stepped forward and asked his question about the kenku. Mister Light answers Brutrumukk, "We are aware of who you're talking about, but we do not know of her whereabouts right now," Mister Witch then speaks, "The Kenku is named Kettlesteam. She is a disgruntled guest and troublemaker who shares the same fey patron as us: Zybilna. She dwells in the Feywild domain of Prismeer," Mister Light smiles and he adds, "Hopefully, your performance back there will have been enough to get her to stop,"</s> <|message|>Brutrumukk Brutrumukk "Oh don't you worry about that kenku git tryin' anythin' else." Brutrumukk said as a cruel, bloodthirsty grin appeared on his face. "Next time I catch it, I'll make sure it never bothers anyone ever again. Heh heh heh heh heh." After a few moments of imagining all the ways he'd club the kenku to death and mount its head on a spike in the future, Brutrumukk returned his focus to the present. "So ya wanted to see us then, yeah?" Brutrumukk asked. "What did ya wanna see us about?"</s> <|message|>Jub the Peculiar Jub the Peculiar Jub wasn't sure what the most bizarre revelation of this whole conversation was: that the carnival's owners knew the kenku well enough that they were aware who her patron was, that she was from the feywild - a realm which Jub had heard enough about to be aware that it not a place one just took a stroll through and came out unscathed - or that the kenku was a 'she'. All of these answers had simply stirred up more questions in the goblin's brain. "Why does she want to wreck your carnival if you have the same patron?" Jub asked Mister Witch and Mister Light.</s> <|message|>Passive Perceptions Witchlight Carnival The Fourth Hour The Meeting Both Carnival leaders looked at each other in concern when Brutrumukk made his threatening comment and gave his bloodthirsty smile. When Jub asked, Mister Witch answered the small goblin, "We haven't heard from Zybilna for a very long time. The same must hold true for Kettlsteam. After all, Zybilna is the matron to the entire carnival. She would have told Kettlesteam to stop," Thankfully, Brutrumukk asked his next questions. Mister Light brightened up considerably with a wide, joyful smile. He gestures to the vane in hand and he speaks, "My vane here picks up every single nuance of emotion in the carnival, in order to ensure that everyone who comes here has a delightful time. This is the first time I've felt so much joy in a long time! So, we wanted to express our gratitude to you!" Mister Witch clears his throat and he speaks, "We were also curious. We'd like to know what brings you to the carnival this night," Mister Light waves his hand and speaks to Mister Witch, "Oh don't be silly, Mister Witch! I'm sure they're just here for a good time as well,"</s> <|message|>Tsak Vlos Tsak Vlos --- Tsak grimaced as she looked at the Burly. This meeting was most unusual to say the least. She would listen silently, curious where this went.</s> <|message|>Aurora "Rory" Malister Aurora Aurora had stayed towards the back of the group listening intently to the conversation. It seemed that the kenku that Brutrumukk and Jub had encountered had some relation to the carnival, at least through their patron. The fact they have not heard from their patron in sometime was most likely very troubling to Mr. Witch and Mr. Light. It also seemed the two had different ideas as to why everyone in the group was here. "Initially I had seen the carnival while passing by and remembered it being quite enjoyable, though in the last hour or so I've realized I lost something here a long time ago and wonder if it was found and someone held onto it. It was a rather ornate ring with an emblem in the center of it. There may have been a scroll with it as well, would you know if anyone has seen it?"</s> <|message|>Zavakri Zavakri jumps at this, leaning far forward as her legs hastened to keep up with her body. Soon she pushed herself forward and sucked in a deep drag of air. She held it for a moment, as if meaning to inflate. Then she deflated, clearing her throat awkwardly as she let Aurora have her moment. "Sorry, got a bit excited, rather in a tizzy in fact, but dreadfully tired- I haven't stayed up this late...Well, that's a lie, I stay up this late every night, but this is certainly a lot of activity! When we get around to me someone remind me that I was working up a bit of steam, eh? I'll pick it back up when we get to that part." She retreats back to the back, anxious, gnawing on her lip intensely. "Don't mind me, not normally the sort to jump a line like that, you've all got as good a reason to be here as me. I presume."</s> <|message|>Passive Perceptions Witchlight Carnival The Fourth Hour The Meeting Both leaders of the carnival turn their attention to Aurora as she spoke. As she mentioned that she lost something a long time ago, a dim light of recognition appears in their eyes. They look to Zavakri as she pushes her way forward to front and center. Mister Light reassured her, "There's no need for apologies. There's no queue to worry about," The both of them look to the group, and Mister Light speaks up, "Ah, I somewhat remember now. Most of you were here eight years ago...! My, you've grown up," Mister Witch closes his eyes and somewhat looks away with a clear look of remorse, while Mister Light also gains a regretful expression as he speaks, "However, we must sincerely apologize, but what you've lost isn't here," Mister Witch speaks up, "The wheel of time turns ever on... what's lost is lost, what's gone is gone," Mister Light then clarifies, "I'm afraid that there are forces at work beyond our control. We cannot help you,"</s> <|message|>Jub the Peculiar Jub the Peculiar Jub frowned as he considered the carnival owners' answer. Well, that was interesting. Perhaps this Kettlesteam thought the disappearance of her patron had something to do with the carnival. The kenku's words from earlier ran through his mind once more: "You lost something important to this place, didn't you?" Had the carnival stolen Kettlesteam's patron? If so, how? That would take a good amount of magic, would it not, to somehow steal away an archfey? He was pondering this when Aurora spoke up, mentioning that she had lost something the last time she had been at the carnival. That's when the carnival owners seemed to recognise not only Jub, but seemingly everyone else in their group, and from the words Jub could imply that he and the elven woman weren't the only ones who had lost something. At Mister Witch and Mister Light's words, claiming that they apparently couldn't return what they had taken, Jub suddenly felt a twinge of anger. "That's a load of rubbish!" he said, without thinking. "You can't honestly expect us to believe that something that just happened to go missing the last time I was here..." He gestured to Aurora. "The last time she was here, had nothing to do with you two. You've just admitted you're both warlocks, essentially. Taking a ring and a scroll should be easy for you, let alone my ability to keep secrets! So if they're not here, then where are they?" After he'd finished, he suddenly realised what he'd just said, and his hands quickly went to his mouth. Behind them, you could just about hear him give a muffled, "Oops..."</s>

<|message|>Passive Perceptions Witchlight Carnival The Fourth Hour The Meeting Mister Light and Mister Witch were silent as Jub makes his outburst. When he falls silent due to realizing that he let his own secret out, Mister Witch retorts, flaring back at Jub in equal passion, "And haven't you thought that maybe -- just maybe -- that we have the rules regarding purchasing tickets in place to -- Oh, I don't know -- prevent that sort of thing from happening?! But did you buy your tickets then?! Did you even try to speak to Nikolas about purchasing a ticket if you didn't have the coin then?! No! No, you decided to sneak in! With that decision, what happened was out of our hands!" Mister Witch stands and walks to Mister Light's side, and places a firm hand on the slender elf's shoulder, stopping the tirade. Mister Witch firmly speaks to Mister Light, "That's enough, Light," "But--!" "That's. enough," Mister Light sighs, calming himself down. Mister Light apologizes, "My deepest apologies, but that was discourteous of me," Mister Witch takes out a pocket watch out of his waistcoat, looks at the face, and then nods at Mister Light. Mister Light then speaks to the group, "Well, Time waits for no one. I'm afraid this is where our meeting must end," He then smiles again, and tells the group, "As Thank You for contributing to the joy of the Carnival, I offer you all a gift," He then nods to the clown and speaks, "Thaco is a clown of few words, but many talents. He'll make you a balloon animal of your choice. Follow Burly, and he'll lead you back to the carnival proper," --- A Hushed Conversation After the party receives a balloon animal, Burly starts to lead them away from the Wagon they were at while making sure that Tsak is with them. Instead of leading them back to the Carnival itself, Burly whispers to the group, "Follow me. Over here. You too, Tsak," He pulls them aside into a small corner for them to speak discreetly. After he looks around to make sure the coast is clear, Burly removes his jack-o'-lantern helmet, revealing a worried expression, "I'll get straight to the point: Bad things have been happening at the carnival for a while. People and things have been going missing. My bosses know more than they're telling, but their hands are tied somehow. You're the first people I've met who might be able to set things right. Witch and Light are good guys, but you'll need leverage to make them spill the beans,"</s>

<|description|>Cassandra 'Cassie' SandsmarkWONDER GIRL --- --- Age: 17 Gender: Female Race: Human/Amazon Alignment: Hero Mentors: Artemis, Wonder Woman Skills/Meta Abilities: Amazonian Physiology: A descendant of Zeus and recepient of his blessing, Cassie has a physiology similar to the Amazonians of Themysicra. This gives her strength, speed, reflexes, and durability magnitudes greater than a human's, as well as the gift of flight. Lasso of Lightning: A lasso created specifically for Cassie by Aries; it is indestructible and able to channel Zeus's lightening on it's target. Amazonian Bracers: Bracers given to Cassie by Zeus at the time of receiving her powers, they are her most commonly used weapon. Made of indestructible metal, she uses them to both block projectile attacks, but to give her own more force. Combat Proficiency: Ever since coming into her power, Cassie has been undergoing almost constant training, mostly by Artemis. She is skilled in hand to hand combat, and proficient in sword fighting. Personality: Cassie has been told many times; she is the perfect example why teenagers shouldn't be given superpowers. It isn't that she does anything particularly wrong that often, but becoming an Amazon didn't suddenly make her a mature adult. She is brash, strong willed, and stubborn in both her actions and ideals. She believes herself to be a good person, and by most standards she is, after all if she's good at anything it's fighting bad guys. But her temper is short, and she is often too quick to make snap judgments about people, and very reluctant to change them. Still, apparently she's well behaved enough to no have her powers revoked, and that's good enough for her. Willfully optimistic, Cassie can be a ray of sunshine to the group of misfits, have had little to no trauma in comparison to her fellow Titans. She is overall friendly to those she trusts a likes, though even they aren't safe from her spurts of angry frustration that come all too often. An open book who wears her heart on her sleeve, Cassie can be the best friend anyone's ever had and stick trough thick and thin for her team-mates, but if she finds she dislikes a person within the first moments of meeting them, it is unlikely they'll ever make it into her good books. Backstory: Born and raised in Gateway City, Cassie Sandsmark is the only daughter and child of Dr. Helena Sandsmark; renown archaeologist, and head curator of Gateway City Museum of Antiquities. Her childhood wasn't all that different than most others; her time was spent between school, friends, and the museum. On occasion her mother would take Cassandra on specific digs that she was invited to partake in, but while she had a curious interest in Greek history and mythology, she lacked the patience to make it a serious study. It wasn't until Cassie turned twelve that her life became interesting. A new historian was hired at the museum and became fast friends with Helena. The historian in question was Diana Prince, or alternatively Wonder Woman, who was staying at the museum to keep watch over an artifact sacred to the Amazons after hearing that it was at risk of being stolen. Cassie was understandably enthusiastic about the situation and spent the better part of six months tailing the super-heroine as she devoted time to menial jobs. Diana was patient with Cassie as she was with all her young admirers, and even invited her to watch her training; an activity quickly scrapped by Helena, which only lead to Cassie sneaking out to watch instead. An attack did eventually come, quite suddenly mid-day in the summer. The museum was filled with cultists from the church of blood, seeking the gauntlets Diana had come to protect. After being told to hide, Cassie went instead to where she knew the artifact was being hidden in her mother's office. Nearly an hour later, when the fighting should well have stopped on of the cultists found their way inside to find a shocked Cassie clutching the Gauntlets of Aries. Not thinking a child would need much effort to subdue, the attacker instead simply tried to pull the gauntlets away. With no other recourse left, Cassie slipped on the too-large bracers, which miraculously tightened around her wrists. With a single motion she was able to pull away from her assailant, knocking him to the ground, just as Wonder Woman came in through the door. The following 'fight' didn't last more than a few seconds. The aftermath over the ambush for the Gauntlets of Atlas had some serious ramifications for Cassie; for one she found out that her ability to wield them meant she was in some capacity a descendant of Zeus. After a very star-struck meeting with the god himself, and a modest amount of pleading on her own part, it was decided she had proven herself to have the heart of a warrior and was given the gift of the Amazons. Sensibly, Helena was less than pleased with her daughter's decision to fight crime, so it was decided that Artemis would train Cassie until they felt she was truly ready to take on the duties of an Amazon. This lead to a somewhat difficult high-school experience, but eventually Cassie gained enough confidence to graduate from student to part-time hero, and from there was quickly recruited to the Teen Titans.</s> <|message|>Kassandra Keigwan "Come on. A little closer." Just outside the Titans Tower, one young Atlantean stood waist deep in the water. Her orange eyes were fixed on a large carp that was lazily swimming toward her. She licked her lips in anticipation. Breakfast was just a breath away. "Come on…" She stilled, watching the fish idle toward her body. "Gotcha!" Her hands darted into the water, lightning quick, and she came up with a live, wriggling fish. "Ha! You're mine now." It was a healthy specimen. With a gentle tap on the spine, she put the animal out of it's misery, then climbed out of the water. She was barefoot as she usually was, the skirt of her green dress tied around her knees. Human clothes were lovely, but not waterproof. She'd learned that one the hard way. Kassandra grinned with triumph as she headed back into the tower, loosening her dress back down as she did so. As she headed toward the kitchen, she heard the cheerful conversation of some of the others, and balked slightly, slowing down. She was still somewhat intimidated by the other Titans. Being the youngest of the group wasn't fun, and feeling like the least trained wasn't great either. Robin made her nervous; he was so intense most of the time. Starfire was sweet and kind, but she was a veteran, and Kassy just felt outclassed. Still, there was nothing that she could do about it this morning. She needed the knives to properly carve her kill. So she stepped into the kitchen, fish in one hand. "Ah… g-good morning everyone."</s> <|message|>Ka'van Soeray Ka'van had just pulled the hot water off the stove and poured it into his bowl of oats when Starfire waltzed in. He gave his lunch a stir and looked up as she spoke. He smiled. The two got along quite well, both being fish out of water on this planet. He was always grateful for her advice, although he took most of it with a grain of salt after...the incident. But regardless of whether her advice on Earth life was sound or not, Starfire always had a way of cheering up a room. He liked that about her. Even Robin in all his seriousness couldn't withstand her antics without a smile. Most of the time, anyways. He couldn't help but chuckle as she went on about taste. He wasn't sure where this was going, until she mentioned his oatmeal. "Oh," He looked down at the slop that had formed in the bowl. Ka'van ate oatmeal for every meal, every day. When he'd first found himself on Earth, the first few weeks had been absolutely horrible. He spent them sick and starving, trying one Earth food after another, most of which resulted in him becoming even more violently ill. When he finally discovered that oats were incredibly similar to a staple food on his own planet, and that they could sustain him...well, he kind of gave up on trying anything else. Any new food had the potential to make him sick again, and Ka'van's fear of that kept him on a strict oatmeal-only diet. Was he tired of them by now? Yeah, maybe a little... "Mustard will make me sick, Star," He said in a patient tone. "These oats are the closest thing to Talgan food I've found." He picked up the bowl and stirred it, then took a bite of the plain, lumpy mush.</s> <|message|>Slade Joseph Wilson -Robin- - Dick Grayson - Robin was in the middle of cooking up some beacon and eggs when Ka'van walked in and greeted him as he began making his oats. "Hey Ka'van." He Replied. His toast popped up just as he finished cooking his eggs. Stacking all his ingredients together Robin began eating as Starfire floated in and began musing at the concepts of hot and cold foods eaten in their opposite states with Ka'van. "Have you tried warm, wet oats seasoned with mustard?" Robin caught himself before spitting out chunks of egg from the resulting chuckle. It was amusing that even after spending so much time with Starfire and all the oddities she enjoys and thinks of daily, she can still come at you with something new and unexpected. "These oats are the closest thing to Talgan food I've found." "What about you Star, with your expertise on mustard, what makes it better: hot or cold" Robin asked playfully, half curious if she had actually considered it before. As he finished, Kassandra walked in, fish in hand. "Ah… g-good morning everyone." She looked nervous, and it was understandable with her being one of the newest members. "Hi Kass. The stove top should still be hot." Robin tried his best at being approachable to all members, but all the years he spent with Batman kind of made that difficult to do naturally. He was glad that Starfire had stayed when the team split, when it came to breaking the ice and making people comfortable Robin was not the best, and Star is something of a natural at talking with people even if she does not know them well. Robin looked around the common area. "Has anyone seen Cassie? I have some things to go over for the week." --- Available units there is a 10-33 in progress in the Water Front area. Coast Guard is responding to a water craft 10-82, ETA 5 minutes. Additional units have been requested 10-18. EMT is alerted and en-route. Be aware; there are unconfirmed reports that an individual who may have boarded the water craft after the smoke cut visual of the deck. No emergency calls have come from the craft at this time. Coast Guard have asked to clear the nearest docking area for triage.</s>

<|message|>Cassandra 'Cassie' SandsmarkWONDER GIRL It wasn't long until the voices from the kitchen drifted through Cassie's open door. What a great continuation of her day to have a meeting going on without her. Groaning, she lifted herself from her bed and slipped on a pair of fuzzy blue slipper rather than her running shoes. She did a quick look around her room before leaving, the remains of her frantic search strew throughout. The great thing about being an amazon was that cleaning your room never took long, especially when you were able to slam the over-stuffed closed door extra hard. With a final glance in the mirror to make sure she didn't still look like she'd just left the training room, she headed for the kitchen. "You called?" She said, leaning against the doorway with a coy smile before entering completely. Everyone else on the team was there. A stab of her insecurity made her hesitate for a second- certain they had all conspire to meet and gossip about her. At least it meant Robin had in fact been asking after her and not Kassandra with K. Of all the things she thought she'd have to fight over as a Titan, her name hadn't been one of them. She shook off her baseless fears and breezed past them all to the fridge to grab a yogurt cup. "So what is it? Bank robbery? Mayor's daughter kidnapped? People disappearing around a not-suspicious-at-all science lab?"</s>

<|description|>Alexander gender: male godly parents: Zeus and Isis sphere of control: lightning, flight, medicine, marriage appearance: personality: a bit cocky, has a quick temper, but cools down quickly as well. Has a caring side, shown only to a trusted few. sacred animal: golden eagle powers: can summon lightning, create storms, summon anemoi thuellai (storm spirits), and fly using the wind. If he concentrates, he can heal physical injuries and diseases. weapon(s): his father's lightning bolt, a staff other: Alexander's main weakness is water. It can neutralize his lightning, to an extent. name: Ronin gender: female godly parents: Loki and Athena sphere of control: intelligence, heroes, manipulation, magic, and chaos appearance: personality: snarky, cunning, and a prankster. Ronin does have a serious side, but she doesn't show it too often. sacred animal: red fox powers: Ronin has a grasp of magic only surpassed by her father, who is also her teacher. She is also a genius, taught by her mother. weapon(s): her magic, her intelligence, and a naginata other: Ronin's magic specializes in illusions and combat. Anyone with truesight can see through her illusions, however, and she's weak to fire.</s> <|message|>Masrith Masrith peacefully stood from the seat he had taken. "In terms of a crime being done, I do not believe one was truly committed, it is true that the strong replace the weak. That is a rule that has never been changed throughout time. Instead, I believe, if she were to be punished, it should be for the consequences we will have to face for her recklessness of killing a god with a role such as Kali. This could set forth events we aren't prepared for. I never knew Kali. I don't the the one who awaits punshiment either. It seems to me that this is simply a result of someone who wanted to test their might on or of the greatest warriors in the Hindu pantheon. I do believe that duel would have been much more proper but it is what it is. We need to focus on what will result. We shouldn't waste time sitting here in a debate of right and wrong." Masrith then sat down quietly and waited for the others to speak.</s> <|message|>Cythlla Cythlla giggled, holding a hand up to her mouth, soon it went into a hysterical laughter. "You guys are so funny! You keep talking about how what I did was wrong, or what I did was right!" Cythlla said with a grin looking at all of them. "I don't care if what I did was right or wrong! I'm just part of a process! And it's going to continue! You can't stop it anymore! Corruption is coming, I hope your prepared!" Cythlla was hysterical but her words were true, she was only a stepping stone. "Punish me if you will, I have said what I mean to say! So lock me up! Then lock up everyone else too cause their gonna be part of this process!" Cythlla said her grin even bigger, her eyes crazed now. She had lost her sanity, anything else she spouts now isn't going to make sense. "Don't you hear the steps of corruption! Their taking hold now! The ducks are quacking with madness! Your all quacking with secrets!" Cythlla yelled out, now she had gone mad.</s> <|message|>Brahma, He of Fourfold, The Creator, Realized Atman From Satyaloka, the sphere of truth, Brahma looked out over the world. The God himself was enclosed within a lotus flower, the petals sealed around Him as He sat in perfect stillness. As per his divine right, both that which is and is-not was inherently known by himself. The manifestation of Para Brahman, the incarnation of that transcendent root. And yet, even this being had come to a stark conclusion. He was disappointed. In Rasatala, they were rising. With the Black One absent, they were unfettered. This world, even if He had known from the first precept to the last, that did not mean He took any pleasure in this knowledge. Yes, even if Her Mahashakti had returned to its root, it was irrelevant here, simply because of that very disappointment. Yes, the last time this world had become like this... "That's it, that's precisely it. I am Brahman. Just as Fourfold and Fivefold are Atman, so too am I Brahman. As that is the case, as this Truth holds true..." "Lord Brahma, Lord Shiva, I thank You from my core. I will aim to become a ruler that You may one day smile upon." "I see now, I see what I must do. If you call me a demon, a monster, then a monster I shall become. I will shoulder all the darkness in these three worlds upon my shoulders! I will save the world, even if I must stain my hands in oceans of blood! I will become everything that I hate, if it means that I can save everything that I love! I am the Demon King, and this is my world!" ...that child, such a regrettable end. Even as that journey began, He knew the end but refused to let it diverge. That idealist scholar who became the legendary Demon King. Yes, the last time, the last time, it was already... The Creator sat in the eternal lotus, isolated in the realm of His domain. Merely Himself and that being whose flight was the cycle of Moksha were within this land. And so he remained.</s> <|message|>Sithilerine In a realm distant to that of the physical plain restedthe soul of a hate filled beast. The soul of sithilerine rested. Sealed away and left to be forgotten. This was the result of his last fight. He had rampaged against the gods and was almost victorious. However, after consuming the soul of Hades, he had unforseen side effects that had caused his down fall. His soul was sealed away by a unification of gods that would use their power to hold the barrier so that his soul would never take form again. Now there has been a mistake. Sithilerine looked up at the barrier. It's power was fading, a god that had helped to hold the deal has been vanquished. Kali no longer had her power to it. Sithilerine grinned. His mighty wings took to the air. His soul sought freedom from its accursed prison. His charged his magic and let out a mighty roar. The barrier began to give away and suddnely broke. Sithilerine, the god of the apocalypse was now free. His soul began to search for its imprisonened physical form. The gods were clever. They knew that if they destroyed it, he would simply form a new one. Instead they sealed it away. This prevented sithilerine from manifesting onto the mortal plane for long periods of time. His search let him to his mark. Sithilerine had now used the gem to reconnect to his physical form. The body began to turn and crack. As if it had been stiff from never moving. His body, massive in size was now free. Sithilerine had hatred to let out. He roared as loud as possible. Only some gods would hear this, and they would fear, the return of the destroyed of worlds. Sithilerine looked at his physical form. He shrunk down to the size of human and collapse. "This imprisonment had weakened me. I will need time to recover." With a beat of his wings, he took to the air. "I must find a place to rest. If I were to encounter the gods now, my only option would be to flee."</s> <|message|>Leanbh (Meaning child) (Nicknamed Lea) Their was a sudden whoosh of the wind a arrow whizzing pasted them and into one of the targets,"Very good sister you have good aim but i can do better with my bow then with your fire" Lea the son of Loki and Athena was at the doorway watching them smiling to his sister.His eyes were on her but not on his father whom he had not speak to in a few days. He put away his bow onto his back as the arrow disappeared form the target,His hand taking the staff that was resting near the doorway making his way towards the two.</s> <|message|>Perdant A roar filled his ears. A roar so terrifying that gods of wars and bravery would tremble. He used his power of the mind to broadcast the roar of the end of the world to the others in the room. So that they might know too...</s> <|message|>Alexander "Well, considering that I have just learned the use of fire this very day, I'm not surprised." Ronin shot back quickly. However, her brother's comment ignited her competitive side. Summoning water to swirl around her hands, she froze it into icicles and shot them one and two at a time into the targets, hitting the bullseyes every time. That done, she smirked at Lea and dusted off her hands. "As you can see, with other elements, I'm very good."</s> <|message|>Leanbh (Meaning child) (Nicknamed Lea) Lea clapped his hands a few time in a sarcastic manner of course wanting her to know that he was not impressed with her magic,He moved his staff aiming the end of the staff letting the emerald jewel at the end glowing a bright green sending a lighting like bolt blowing up one of the targets."Now that is how you destroy a peon" He said with a big smile on his face now putting the staff standing beside him. "Father...how are you?" He asked now letting Loki's existences known to him.</s> <|message|>Suriel @Minimum@BKburke@Stephanie Dola "And this is why you shouldn't have killed a critical God." Odin waved his hand, as he himself had already heard the escape of that old monster. "Alright, since the girl seems to have taken the leave of her senses, lock her up in Olympus. This is a temporary measure, as we don't want her getting in the way of your coming battle. If she regains her sanity and seems trustworthy(she wont) then you guys should probably release her to help you in the coming battle." Odin motioned toward one of his Valkyrie, and they started to bring the tables into the hall once more. "Good luck in the new fight. Make sure to keep the brawls away from Earth. Now get off my property."</s> <|message|>Alexander "You want explosions, I'll give you explosions." An arc of light lanced out of Ronin's hand, hitting the target and blasting it into smithereens. "Peace, Ronin." Loki attempted to curb his daughter's competitiveness. "I am well, my son. And yourself?"</s> <|message|>Leanbh (Meaning child) (Nicknamed Lea) "Fine but i wanted some advice on how shape shifting i need help mimicking something...But that can be for late father" Lea aid shaking his head at Ronin's competitiveness."How is mother doing?You look good..as always" Lea said moving closer towards the two tapping his staff on the ground transforming himself into a ugly version of Ronin mostly to mock her before going back to normal.</s> <|message|>Connor McClarren "I cannot believe you people would do this to innocent "peons". Connor stated. "Lord Shiva would not do such a thing. Nevertheless. This whole thing is stupid. This is what happens when too many deities are in the same place. It's a wonder that India hasn't self-destructed three thousand years ago". He looked away. "Anyway, have a good day. . . please stop killing the innocents. Or I will stop coming here".</s> <|message|>Cynbel Mac Lugh Homura@Minimum@BKburke@Cuccoruler The hearing of the beast's roar was the least thing Cynbel wanted to hear today. It was bad enough he had to deal with his peers, and show up to this stupid trial. He should have seen the beast's return coming, given that Kali was no longer around to make sure it didn't get too antsy. Cythlla seemed to be getting what she wanted, which only further irritated Cynbel. He needed a drink. Odin wanted Cythlla locked up for now, which was reasonable, especially given the fight at hand. He had other, more important things to do than deal with her. There was a giant beast which was free, who was going to bring the Apocalypse to all. This was far more concerning than a mad little girl being a brat. As the Valkyries began to set the tables back up, Cynbel grabbed one of the chalices, and chugged what he could before placing it back down on the table. This was going to be a long day, and he needed something to keep him going. " I'm going to go alert the others, bring together a warband, and deal with Sithilerine. You two lock her up in Olympus, I'll decide what to do after. Good luck. " Cynbel transformed into a Raven, and flew off towards Olympus. Hopefully, his peers would actually listen to him this time. He was a God of War, the most qualified person to deal with this battle. As long as they followed his commands to a T, the beast would be dealt with, and for good this time.</s> <|message|>Alexander Ronin growled, then used illusions to change her appearance into an elderly, stick-thin, hideous version of Lea. After a few minutes, she let the illusion dissipate. "Don't try to out-illusion the goddess of magic, brother dear." As he seemed to only wish to speak to Loki at the moment, she turned back to the targets and began destroying them in various creative ways. "Athena is well, thank you for asking." Loki replied. "You look well... no matter what Ronin seems to think." He shot his daughter a teasing glance. She stuck her tongue out at him playfully in retaliation.</s> <|message|>Leanbh (Meaning child) (Nicknamed Lea) "Thank you father i appropriate the compliment,I also wanted to speak to mother about helping me train in archery i want to learn more form her" Lea while Ronin's back was turned gently poking her with the end of his staff while she was firing her magic so she would miss."Dear father do you know where Seanathair Odin is?I wish to speak to him if he could train me.." His eyes on his father his hand tightly moving the staff close to him.</s>

<|message|>Alexander Loki let out an annoyed noise; he wasn't on the best of terms with Odin. "I assume the Allfather is on Asgard, as usual." When Lea nudged her, Ronin missed the target completely; however, a quick mental command swerved the bolt of magic around to destroy the target from behind. That finished, she whirled on her brother. "Was that completely necessary? For all you know, that spell could have taken out the wall!" She rolled her eyes. "Not that I can expect you to understand, sister dear." It wasn't something she did often, pointing out the similarity between her brother's nickname and a Midgardian girl's name, but she was annoyed. "That was uncalled for, Ronin." Loki rebuked mildly. On one hand, he was the god of mischief and was amused to see his children following in his footsteps. On the other hand, Athena was trying to get him to be a better role model.</s>

<|description|>Shiranui Tsukiko Age: 12 Hometown: Ecruteak City Appearance (pic preferred): Starter: Fennekin Bio: Shiranui had developed a fascination with fox-like Pokémon from watching the Kimono Sisters performing during his childhood. His favourite Pokémon are Espeon, Umbreon, Delphox, Zoroark and Ninetales. He is generally kind, but has a low tolerance to those who speak ill of his likes. He had been inspired to go on a Pokémon journey ever since he spotted Ho-oh taking off from the Bell Tower at age 8, later catching it during his journey through Johto along with two of the three Legendary Beasts. Having never left the regions of the Far East, Shiranui is excited for seeing the culture of a faraway land whilst also steeling himself for the culture shock he may inevitably feel. As part of his ninja training, his father had told him to expect the unexpected.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Those guys are up to something," stated Shiranui, "What, I don't know." Hana flitted back to her trainer and Shiranui offered a Shiny Stone. Hana instantly touched it and the Floette evolved to a Florges. "Florges, the Garden Pokémon and the evolved form of Floette. It claims exquisite flower gardens as its territory, and it obtains power from basking in the energy emitted by flowering plants."</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Looker came around. "Liam, Shiranui, I'm glad to see you two." He said. Liam helped him up. Looker said that the man in charge of the factory was locked in the room behind them.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Then we have to break him out," replied Shiranui, returning Hana, "What kind of lock is holding him in?"</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Liam found that it was an old school heavy duty padlock. "Well, that's a little odd. I expected something much more technologically advanced." Liam said. He knew that this lock was still strong enough to to keep most humans from breaking it.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Yoto, break that lock with Night Slash!" Shiranui drew Yoto out and threw the swords at the lock. Yoto slashed at the lock and Shiranui hoped it worked.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman the lock was split open. There was also a huge gash in the door. Liam went in and freed the Pokeball factory president. He said not to worry about the door. He said he wanted to give the boys something as a reward.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Thank you sir," replied Shiranui, sheathing Yoto.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman The president gave each of them a Master Ball. "Thank you sir." Liam said. He turned to Sligoo and hugged it. He was happy it evolved.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "We should return to Laverre City and get our Pokémon healed," suggested Shiranui.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Good idea." Liam said.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko The heroes made their way out of the Poké Ball Factory and soon reached Laverre City.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Liam handed his Pokemon over to Joy for healing. Looker, who walked back to town with the boys thanked them again for their assistance, jokingly saying at this rate, they will be International Police. He also wanted to know of they knew anything about Team Flare. Liam told Looker about the previous encounters they had with Flare.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko Shiranui had his Pokémon healed as well. "Team Flare's MO is suspiciously similar to Team Rocket's," he added, "Could there be a connection?"</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "That is interesting." Looker said as he jotted this down in a notebook. "Unfortunately, we have no leads as to if there is a connection between the two."</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "In any case, we'll keep you posted if we run into them again," stated Shiranui.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Good." Looker said. He closed his book and stood up. "Thanks again for your help." He said as he put it back in his pocket. He bowed to the heroes and then left. A Wigglytuff then walked up carrying two trays of balls. Wigglytuff placed them on the table. "Wiggly!" it cried happily. "Thanks." Liam said. The Wigglytuff bowed and then went back to work.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko Shiranui put his Poké Balls back on his belt, got a map out and opened it on the table. "The next gym is all the way in Anistar City," he said, "We have a long way to go before we get there and according to my guide, Route 17 is especially rough."</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Well, we should head off then." Liam said.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko Shiranui nodded and exited the Pokémon Centre after folding his map.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman When the heroes reached the gate to Route 17, they were told they needed to rent Mammoswines to cross the route, and could rent winter coats as well.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "I may have one, but I don't think you do," stated Shiranui.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Well, two people can easily ride one Mammoswine." Liam said aloud. He borrowed a winter coat from the man and put it on.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko Shiranui borrowed a winter coat as well and went out onto Route 17. "Buta, come on out!" He let his Mamoswine out.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Liam waited for Shrianui to hop on and then got on behind him.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Buta, start walking," Shiranui commanded. Buta nodded and the Mamoswine plodded through the snow drifts of Route 17.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Liam watched all the wild Pokemon that inhabited the route. He saw a few Snorunt, as well as a Snesal that was sharpening its claws on a tree.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Are you after any of these Pokémon?" asked Shiranui.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "I am interested in that Snesal." Liam replied. "Looks like a good contender."</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Halt, Buta!" Shiranui commanded and Buta stopped, "It's all yours, Liam."</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Liam hopped down. He approached the Snesal. "Sneasel, the Sharp Claw Pokemon. It feeds on eggs stolen from nests. Its sharply hooked claws rip vulnerable spots on prey. Its paws conceal sharp claws. If attacked, it suddenly extends the claws and startles its enemy. " "Sne?" it said as it saw him approach. Liam realized this Snesal was a male. Liam sent Scarlet out. "Attract!" Liam called.Scarlet winked at Sneasel, who fell madly in love with Scarlet. Sensual stood there lovestruck as Scarlet got a direct hit with Signal Beam. Sneasel used Icy Wind and Liam tossed a Luxury Ball. The Ball shook one in the air before dropping to the ground. It shook once more and clicked shut. Liam walked over and collected the ball. He praised Scarlet and recalled her. He then climbed back onto Buta.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Great catch, Liam," Shiranui praised as he got Buta to move on.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Thank you." Liam replied.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko The gatehouse at the east end of Route 17 came into view.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Once they reached the gatehouse, Liam returned the borrowed winter coat.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko Shiranui returned his winter coat and recalled Buta. "Anistar City is out the other way," stated Shiranui.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Well, lets get going." Liam replied.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko When the heroes entered Anistar City, Shiranui almost immediately spotted a pink crystal-like structure that doubled as the town sundial.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "It looks magnificent." Liam replied.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "It seems to be radiating some otherworldly power," said Shiranui.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Well, lets go to the Pokemon Center." Liam said.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko Shiranui nodded and soon found the Pokémon Centre.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman Liam adjusted his team so he could use Sneasal. After that and having his team healed, Liam was ready to face the gym.</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko Shiranui made some adjustments as well, making sure Sunawani and Seiryoku are on the team.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman "Shall we go then?" Liam asked</s> <|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Yes we shall," answered Shiranui.</s> <|message|>Liam Coleman the duo arrived at the gym. A woman introduced herself as Olympia the gym Leader and inquired who wanted to go first. "I went first last time, You can go first." Liam replied.</s>

<|message|>Shiranui Tsukiko "Alright then," said Shiranui and took his place at his side of the battlefield. "This battle will be a 3-on-3 single battle with no time limit," stated the referee, "Only the challenger can switch Pokémon. Begin!" Olympia opened with a Sigilyph and Shiranui scanned it. "Sigilyph, the Avianoid Pokémon. The guardians of an ancient city, they use their psychic power to attack enemies that invade their territory." "I'll make this a battle of ancients! Seiryoku, I choose you!" Shiranui opened with his Golurk. "Sigilyph, Psychic!" "Seiryoku, Phantom Force!" Seiryoku was barraged by a mental onslaught before it vanished to Arceus-knows-where. "Sigilyph, Protect!" Sigilyph brought up the green shield that stopped many an attack, but Seiryoku reappeared and hammered Sigilyph into the ground, shattering the protection shield and dealing a critical hit that knocked the ancient guardian out. --- "Sigilyph, return; Slowking, you're up!" Olympia switched her Sigilyph for her Slowking. Shiranui scanned it. "Slowking, the Royal Pokémon and an evolved form of Slowpoke. It has incredible intellect and intuition. Whatever the situation, it remains calm and collected." "Slowking, Trick Room!" "Seiryoku, Phantom Force once more!" Seiryoku vanished into thin air again before Slowking created a zone of twisted dimensions over the entire battlefield. "Slowking, Nasty Plot!" Slowking thought up some evil plans, boosting its Special Attack sharply before Seiryoku reappeared and kicked Slowking into one of the Trick Room's walls for some heavy damage. "Slowking, Psychic!" "Seiryoku, Shadow Punch!" With Trick Room in effect, the normally-slower Slowking pummeled Seiryoku's mind with a similar mental barrage that Sigilyph used earlier. The Golurk fell over with a mighty crash. --- "Seiryoku, return; Yoto, I choose you!" Shiranui recalled his fallen Golurk and drew the two swords that was Yoto, throwing them into battle. "Slowking, Psychic!" "Yoto, Shadow Sneak!" Yoto phased into the field and Slowking was looking around, trying to gauge where Yoto would pop out. The Doublade popped out from underneath Slowbro and stabbed it for enough damage to knock it out. --- "Slowbro, return; Meowstic, you're up!" Olympia swapped her Slowbro for her Meowstic. "Meowstic, Sucker Punch!" "Yoto, Attract!" Meowstic tried to get in a super effective hit, but failed as Yoto wasn't using an attacking move. The Doublade showed off a series of swings and thrusts and finished with the two cloths making a love heart shape. Meowstic fell in love. "Meowstic, Psychic!" "Yoto, Shadow Claw!" The Trick Room's physics was a boon for Yoto as the Doublade's swords started glowing with shadow energy and morphing into seven-branched swords. Meowstic tried to dodge the attack, but Yoto's movements were too complex to avoid and Meowstic was slashed with both swords for a critical hit. Meowstic was too love-struck to attack and the Trick Room faded away. "Try again, Meowstic, Psychic!" "Yoto, Shadow Sneak!" The swords phased into the battlefield again and Meowstic was eyeing the field warily. "Meowstic, dodge it the moment they pop out!" Shiranui smirked as one sword phased into Meowstic's line of sight. Meowstic dodged only to be hit by the other sword, realising too late that Yoto's first strike was a feint. She tried to fight the damage from Yoto's last attack, but it was to no avail as Meowstic succumbed to the damage and fainted. Shiranui had won the Psychic Badge.</s>

<|description|>Melody 'Songstress' Kinto Race: Human Position: On the run from the authorities, obviously. Age: 30 Personality: Melody is heartless, cruel, and obviously dangerous. She knows nothing about remorse, and has no qualms about slitting someone's throat, regardless of who it is. By definition, she's a serial killer, perhaps one of the most wanted ones of this generation and possibly this era. She doesn't value life and sees everyone as expendable. Appearance: Melody is five-eight and a half with green eyes and long red hair, she's fit and slightly muscular, allowing her to run for long periods of time and lift at least twice her body weight. She tends to wear black clothing, typically made of leather, but she does happen to have a few non-leather outfits. She always wears her trademark, custom made, black leather trench coat. The coat was designed to have hidden pockets inside the jacket for knives or other such sharp objects. She has a pair of holsters strapped to her lower back, which obviously hold her two favorite handguns. Background: Melody's past remains a mystery, she's never become close to another person, and if she has, they're likely not alive anymore to talk about it. Her name became known to the world when the news reported a triple homicide involving the CEO of a major company, the calling card left at the scene were titles of songs on a CD. This caused the media to call her the Songstress, a name that stuck despite the authorities' attempts to deter this result. As the years passed, Melody perfected her craft, eventually learning how to enter high security locations and escape without being noticed. She's the perfect killer, except for one little thing, she's slightly unstable mentally.</s> <|message|>Melody 'Songstress' Kinto The woman's eyes search for the voice's source, eventually coming to focus on a...creature? She rubs her eyes, under the impression she was seeing things. However, the creature was still there, as very much real as she was. "It seems I am...your doing, I assume?" she questions, clearly not afraid of the creature. Her eyes look him over, perhaps another human being would be afraid, maybe intimidated by the being; she was not like everyone else. She slowly leaned forward, "So, what are you supposed to be? A goblin?" she asked, a slight bit of sarcasm in her voice. Before she let him answer, she asked another question, "And for that matter, where am I? This doesn't look like the city to me." she added. She noticed the paintings around the room, none familiar, but intriguing to her nonetheless.</s> <|message|>Immerus Zileo Galindale "Galin" This offer was very pricy and although young Immerus was definitely not stupid. "Too pricy indeed fair maiden!" He said curtly to the women although not rudely for he did not want relations between the Fall and Summer Courts to become sour but very sourly. "Do you think me daft to just give away my very true name for such information I would never do such a thing although I would give it to you for real wealth maybe even more steady trade routs that I own maybe even lend the King of the Fall Court my own troops to aid you or lend some of my own service but never my true name for I am young but I am not stupid!" He did show the women that he was offended by her, for he did not really want to give his true name away at the age that he was at because many could take advantage of him, or maybe even find him weak but he would not stand to seem weak and boneless to his own people. "I will offer anything but my true name" He said that and he made it sound final.</s> <|message|>Urke'j Lask ( Goes by Haeson, Or "Metalls Schmied", Metal's Smith ) the gremlins face twists into what is a scowl- the same kind scowl a murder would have over his prey... "GREMLIN... young one, i am a Gremlin. GOBLINS are shorter, and not nearly as fair." he calms, and sighs, holding up a glass of water, handing it to her "But yes you are alive as you can see, and it is my doing, and you are in my court, and home." he sighs and gestures about "And this is your room... if you shall have it." The gremlin then locks his eyes onto hers. the dark spheres of a dark no-named shade of green burrowing into hers, "I saved your life, and thus you owe me, do you not?" The unspoken threat, and unknowable danger would be spotted by any fe, but any silly little human is just prey to a game they don't know they are playing.</s> <|message|>Aisling Ní Cheallaighe, "She who is born of ashes" Aisling seems to melt with disappointment allowing a slight worry to trend about her. "My Lord has no need for troops, trade routes are not what I sent for." She shifts from foot to foot nervous. Scared almost, oh what the Fall King would do if she did not come back without something good! A glint came into her eye, to another it would look desperate. Ever so slightly that was true. But Aisline was wise to the way of Fae that must always speak true. "You said you would offer anything other than you're name, even part of that... Wilt thou give your crown for such news that might preserve thy kingdom?" She cringes as if expecting fury, rightly so. Still she holds the image of a nervous servant which only seems to grow as the trading does not fall right through.</s> <|message|>Melody 'Songstress' Kinto As she mused at the art around her, she listened to the gremlin, turning her head to him when he shouted. Any normal person would have jumped, or maybe cowered away. She, however, was not easily scared, especially by a creature such as this. She accepted the glass and sipped it's contents while he spoke again, this time a threat being made towards her, causing her to lower the glass. She narrowed her eyes at the gremlin, "Are you threatening me, Mr. Gremlin? Such hospitality you have." she said, a slight grin forming on her face. This creature was similar to her, or rather, she was similar to him. "If what you say is true, and you did indeed save me from death, then I will not deny that I owe you a debt. A...life-debt, if I am to be frank. And with such a debt, I believe my life belongs to you, to do with as you see fit. Or am I wrong?" she asked, setting the glass on the table beside her. She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other as she folded and placed her hands in her lap. This place certainly was...different, however, it was a good kind of different. "If I am to remain here, Mr. Gremlin, I would like to know where my room is located. I know this is no place humans can build, the beauty of it escapes the human mind, they cannot construct it. So I ask again, where am I?"</s> <|message|>Immerus Zileo Galindale "Galin" Immerus stood from his throne his eyes narrowed at the women, she had nerve to ask for the offer of his crown. "You ask for my crown, my crown!" He said with growing anger but he was trying to keep himself from loosing all control. "I should have expected such an underhanded and devious price such as that from a bargainer, you have struck a nerve fair lady but I will not lose my temper, no I will not lose composure for I am a just and fair king!" He looked at the women angrily yet he could not stay angry, although the prices were very lofty and ridiculous. "I must decline that offer, I will not give up my crown for such things although could you think of something else other than taking my kingdom or my freedom from me?" He said with slight humour yet he made himself sound as though if there was one more offer or price that was so ridiculous or lofty as the others had been he might not be so tolerant and composed. I meres did this because he liked this women. "Oh and what is your name, not your true name of course though!" He said slightly smirking at the women.</s> <|message|>Aisling Ní Cheallaighe, "She who is born of ashes" Aisling shrunk back and now took on grasping fears as a pure expression, "I am 'She who is born of ashes', Summer King." She stammered, her body shaking like a leaf of Falk's high trees. Her eyes looked about the hall frantically, in desperation. Searching for something to make a worthy trade for."Oh, please accept the deal for something of worth, I do fear the wrath of My Lord King. A Unseelie is no easy Ruler to bide under." She pleaded, he was Summer Court and they were notorious for their honor and nobility. Her large green eyes gave into tears of weakness as if she was on her last nerves. "I would ask for less if I could, but I must come back with something of worth! Surely one so noble as a Fair Summer Fae would understand the hardship of barbaric, dark clutches! A name I was told to return with, a name or rare tidbit of news!" Aisling blinks away the threatening tears. Clearly the picture of fear and desperation.</s> <|message|>Urke'j Lask ( Goes by Haeson, Or "Metalls Schmied", Metal's Smith ) He raises a brow "And here i was hoping you would be stupid and try to resist." he smiles wide, and stands. "We are in the Winter Court- My halls of Iron in the snow born realms of winter." he nods, and opens the door. "In the realms of the Fair Folk- or if you want to make enemies, you could call people Faeries... But most of us Hate that- almost as much as i hate being called a Goblin." he gestures to the hall way "Shall we?"</s> <|message|>Melody 'Songstress' Kinto The woman smirked, "Perhaps another unfortunate human might be stupid enough to resist, however, I am nothing like the rest of my kind. They prefer 'peace and harmony', whereas I tend to enjoy the opposite. Death is my particular favorite, provided I am not the one dying, of course." she said, a small giggle escaping her lips. She stood from her seat, bowing her head as the door was opened for her, "We shall." she replied. Stepping through the door, she was greeted by larger twisted and horrificly beautiful designs. She could no longer contain the admiration she had for them, and for this place, "You have a beautiful estate, Mr. Gremlin, far more beautiful than the dull buildings I've been around my entire life." she spoke. She stopped for a moment to look at the creature, "I daresay I'd enjoy living here, and I'm certain my particular...skills...would be of some use to you?" she asked, a devilish smirk forming on her lips. If he was anything like her, she was certain he'd understand what she meant. She resumed her walk with the creature, deciding not to ask where they were off to, for she had a feeling she would find out in all due time.</s> <|message|>Urke'j Lask ( Goes by Haeson, Or "Metalls Schmied", Metal's Smith ) "Im not sure if i should kill you for knowing too much, or if i should reward you for being less foolish than a typical being." he chuckles leading the woman to a large room- later she would come to know this room as his Smithy- The air here was Ho, almost too hot to bear, and there are blades, more swords, daggers and more litter the myriad of racks and walls, like a macabre version of a toy store, for the bloodthirsty and murderous. A massive forge sits at the end of the room with a large anvil and what is nearly a Sledge, with a grind wheel and tempering barrel. This gremlin has far too much free time. "You can call me Haeson.... Your name?"</s> <|message|>Immerus Zileo Galindale "Galin" "I understand that your Lord may not be the kindest of Fae," Immerus receded back to his throne and he sat down with a thump because he was quite miffed about the situation, he didn't want to give up his true name because the Fall King could take great advantage of him, yet Immerus now began developing a plan that was insane yet daring. "I will do this at a heavy cost!" Immerus stood back up and stepped towards the lady. "I will only tell the Fall King my true name and not his messenger and in return I expect more than information I expect his true name in return only to be fair and equal!" He stepped towards the women wearing her green shawl almost looking pitious and old but this was also a facade, and he damanded theses things because he could not trust this women because he trusted no one and he expected to be taken to her Lord or he would storm in behind her as she relayed the message. "Take me before him or you shall get nothing out of me women or I am not the King of this Court so take me to him and I will tell him my true name in the confines of his halls!" He said this and he would only do this to seal the deal between the Courts because he would only tell the Fall King his name he didn't feel comfortable speaking it to his messenger. And he certainly was not in the mood for giving his true name out he knew the Unseelie Fall King was underhanded and backstabbing, maybe even treacherous he rather would have told his true name to the Sping Courts ruler.</s> <|message|>Aisling Ní Cheallaighe, "She who is born of ashes" There's a whirling of wind, a tornado forms before the Summer King. An ancient boot steps from the vortex as a shadowy figure follows. On first guess one would put his height about seven feet. A thin form solidified into dark grey armor that seemed to grow darker. Deep grey eyes that looked weary and bored studied the Summer King. Black hair reaches down to his shoulders, but is mussed by the constant treatment of wings. The human bowing deeply to the King of Fall and Leader of the Wylde Hunt. "My dear cousin, we are family. Must family be so mistrustful with each other? But I shall make the deal easy upon you- King of Sun and Warmth." Pulling away the shawl covering to the basket a raven takes flight off into Summer's lands. "No name need be traded and you get a ally within my Court." The grey toned Fae musses.</s> <|message|>Max Oscar Napras Max looked between The Hermit and Meliae, and nodded his head," I think I'll go with you," He said. Already this Fae was more better than the others, as he hadn't seemed to deceive him, clearly wasn't threating, and could protect him. Part of him was concerned about the voice that rang through the woods, but he would ask the Hermit about that later. He stepped out from behind Meliae and towards the creature and said," But how am I gonna leave here?" He asked," I'm bound, or something, right?"</s>

<|message|>Melody 'Songstress' Kinto "Killing me would defeat the purpose of saving me." she replied with a wink. The forge caught her attention first, it was large, obviously used to forge weapons of varying degrees. Sure enough her attention was drawn towards the numerous amounts of weapons along the walls of the hall, several had grabbed her attention, swords mostly. Though they were not her prefered weapon, they did appear to make fabulous ornamental decorations should she ever desire to want a couple for her room. Her eyes fell upon the most beautiful dagger she had ever seen, the curve of the blade spoke to her heart, it was forged perfectly; so perfectly that the blade could enter flesh and tear it, causing more damage as it was removed from the body. The handle was simple enough, though the intricate carvings were soothing to her eyes, it was clear to her this weapon was forged for her. She made her way to it, wishing to get a better look at the weapon, "For now, Haeson, you may call me Songstress." she replied, bending over a little to examine the dagger with her eyes. She noticed the blade shone with the fires of the forge in the hall, making it even more beautiful than before, "If you feel obliged to reward me, Haeson, might I ask for this beauty to be it? I have never seen a more perfect and beautiful blade in my life, and I've seen a great deal of them." she said, turning her head back to the gremlin.</s>

<|description|>Lucian A boy who is deeply protective and caring towards his younger sister, Tenebris. He has an overactive mind that tends to wander towards thoughts of potential danger or harm that could befall his sister. This protective instinct is so strong that it borders on obsession at times. He's handsome with a pale complexion and rosy cheeks when he's happy or excited about something.</s> <|description|>Tenebris A girl who shares a close bond with her older brother, Lucian. She's intelligent and charming, which often leads to boys showing interest in her. However, she prefers the company of Lucian over others. Her appearance is described as beautiful, with green eyes that match her personality's warmth and kindness.</s> <|narrator|>In this Hogwarts story, siblings Tenebris and Lucian start their final year at school. They share classes together and have a close bond, with Lucian being protective of his sister due to her beauty attracting attention from other boys. On the first day back, they attend different morning classes but meet up for Charms later on. During this time, Tenebris is asked by a classmate named Thomas Brooks if she'd like to study together that evening. Despite being late for class due to this interaction, she doesn't reveal the truth about why she was delayed. Meanwhile, Lucian becomes increasingly concerned about where his sister is when she doesn't show up immediately after Herbology class. He eventually leaves Charms mid-lesson to find out what's happening with Tenebris.</s> <|message|>Lucian Tenebris opened her eyes and groaned quietly, squinting against the harsh sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. Usually, they were closed, but apparently one of her dorm mates thought it was far too beautiful a morning to keep the light out. Despite the fact that people were still sleeping, Tenebris could hear chatter close by, and knew immediately that it was Olivia, the dorm chatterbox. She had probably been the one to open the damned curtains as well. Growling as she sat up in bed, Tenebris peered around the room, looking for Olivia, before letting her gaze rest on the carpet. Taking a moment to gather the energy, Tenebris stood and made her way to the window, closing the curtains with a loud "whoosh!". Grabbing her bathroom bag, Tenebris stomped out of the dorm room and through the common-room, making her way past Olivia, and to the girls' bathroom. Hanging her bag on a nearby hook, Tenebris turned the hot water on in one of the empty showers before stripping. Shivering as the cold air touched her skin, Tenebris walked into the stall and shut the curtain behind her, letting the hot water wash over her naked body, soothing her and warming her at the same time. Olivia would have to be spoken to, for sure, but for the moment, Tenebris would leave her be. After showering, Tenebris did a quick drying spell on her hair before brushing it and getting dressed in her clean uniform. It was the first day back to classes, and she was looking forward to it. She would be taking at least two classes with Lucian, her brother, this year. Despite being in different years, Tenebris had advanced enough in her schoolwork to be able to take a few classes with the older students. Mainly Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. She hadn't double checked schedules yet, mainly because they hadn't been given out. But she was confident about taking classes with older students. Besides, Lucian would be there. Slipping into her sweater, Tenebris grabbed her bag and swung it over her shoulder before making her way out of the common-room and to the dining hall, where breakfast was being served. Taking a seat at the Ravenclaw table, Tenebris began to fill her plate with breakfast foods, waiting on Lucian to arrive.</s> <|message|>Tenebris Seventh year had started uneventfully. After the usual ride on the Hogwarts Express, Lucian had dinner in the Great Hall, watched the sorting ceremony and then headed off to bed. His last year at Hogwarts was bittersweet. On one hand, he would be able to pursue a career outside of the school, perhaps even following in his father's footsteps by working for the Ministry. On the other hand, he knew he was going to have to leave Tenebris behind. He had shadowed his sister since she was a first year, making sure she stayed out of trouble. He felt a connection with her that he didn't feel for anyone else and he probably spent far too much time spying on her than he should have. Lucian's morning started with the sound of his owl, Shiloh, bringing his post. The scraping of his talons on his window woke him and he groggily walked over to the window to retrieve it before giving Shiloh a pat atop his head before sending him away. It was just a letter from his muggle friend from back home. She'd been enamored with wizard post and found it hard to believe that one of her letters could reach him via owl. He stowed the letter in his nightstand drawer and then made his way to the shower. He changed into his robes and made his way down to the Great Hall a little later than most of his housemates. When he saw an open seat beside Tenebris, he planted himself there and gave her a smile. "Good morning, Tenebris," he said, his voice still a bit hoarse. He hadn't slept all that well and his hair was a bit disheveled even after having showered, damp from having used a towel rather than a drying spell.</s> <|message|>Lucian Tenebris looked up when she heard the familiar tone speaking to her. Grinning happily as she locked eyes with her brother, Tenebris scooted over a little to allow him to sit next to her. "Morning!" She called out happily, taking a bite of her bacon. Seeing Lucian always made her feel better, even if it was only for a second. Luckily they always got to eat breakfast together, something that certainly brightened her mornings. Despite their age difference, Tenebris and Lucian were actually quite close. She had never kept anything from him, and he was her best friend, as lame as it sounded. He'd been her rescuer and her confidant since she could remember, always there for her when she needed someone. Some people had said they were too close, but Tenebris chose to ignore the whispers. Sipping at her juice, Tenebris scanned the room, wondering how the first years were fairing. She remembered her first year at Hogwarts. It had been wonderful. Exciting and terrifying at the same time. The only reason she'd been slightly less nervous than the current first years was because she had Lucian. Turning to look at her brother fondly, Tenebris jumped slightly when a paper landed in front of her. Schedules. "Ooh! Let's see if we have any classes together!" She chirped, wiping her hands on a napkin before grabbing the paper and flipping it over. Scanning the classes, she grinned, glad she'd been put in three seventh year classes- the three she'd thought she'd have. Crossing her legs under the table, Tenebris peeked over at Lucian, waiting eagerly to see his own schedule.</s> <|message|>Tenebris Lucian always perked up when Tenebris was around, perhaps most of all because it was in those moments he knew she was truly safe. He'd seen the way some of the boys had been looking at her in the past few years. He knew boys wanted her because not only was she smart and charming, but she was incredibly beautiful. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to woo her away from him and leave Tenebris forgetting about the bond she'd forged with her older brother. It was unhealthy in many ways, but Lucian had no qualms about spending as much time as possible with his sister. The fact that she was excelling in such a way that she was in some 7th year classes warmed Lucian. She was taking after both her brother and their father and she would undoubtedly be sharing multiple classes with him. Lucian had been feasting on a large portion of eggs and bacon when the schedules arrived. He turned them over to compare their classes and smiled brightly at the sight of the two classes they'd be sharing. "Looks like you can't get away from me so easily this year, Tenebris," he said, breathing a sigh of relief knowing they'd be even closer this year than they had the last. He placed a hand on top of her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. "My last year and two classes with my sister. Things are looking up." He withdrew his hand and sipped his butterbeer, a rosy glow on his pale cheeks that hadn't been there before he'd sat down.</s> <|message|>Lucian Tenebris smiled and rolled her eyes, cheeks slightly flushed from the contact of Lucian's hand on hers. "I've never wanted to get away from you, Lucian," she said, not really hiding her affection for him. There was no reason to, after all. Grinning as he spoke about the year looking up, Tenebris continued eating her breakfast, eager to get to class. As she glanced at him, she noticed his cheeks were flushed, too. She wondered for a moment why they were both blushing- it was a regular conversation, wasn't it? Pushing the thoughts from her mind, Tenebris finished up her breakfast, taking one large gulp of her pumpkin juice, before standing. Brushing crumbs off her skirt and cardigan, she turned to Lucian. "I'll see you for second period, okay?" She had Ancient Runes for first period, and second was Charms. She wouldn't see him until the next hour. Turning away, Tenebris trotted off towards class, heart hammering in her chest. She was happy to start a new year with such a good attitude, knowing that she and Lucian would be in a few classes together.</s> <|message|>Tenebris Lucian's mind wandered as Tenebris spoke to him. He often thought about her with other boys, his stomach twisting and turning in response. It was the last thing in the world he wanted to experience and keep his sister close was sure to make it even more of a stretch. He decided at the beginning of the year that he was the only man worry of her. She had matured into a perfect young woman and the jealousy he'd feel if she did decide to date anyone else terrified him. If he was to ever truly be able to rest easy, he would have to take matters into his own hands. Luckily, he could sense they were on the same page, even though those lingering doubts crept in every now and again. Lucian polished off a second helping of eggs and then, realizing the time and seeing Tenebris's haste to leave, he wiped his mouth and looked up at her before standing himself. "Right. Yes. Be good," he said, smiling at his sister as she headed off for her first class. He glanced down at his schedule and saw that his first class was Herbology. He hadn't even been keen to notice any of the classes that weren't shared with Tenebris. Off to class he went, cheeks still flush and his mind still wandering. After an uneventful Herbology class, Lucian was itching to see Tenebris again. The borderline obsession he felt in wanting to keep her protected was reaching a fever pitch and he was tempted to take a walk outside for a moment just to get some fresh air. He had always felt close to her, but perhaps it was the fact that at this time next year, he would be gone. He made his way to Charms and took a seat near the back. A few students had walked in and given him sideways glances before they sat down. No one even threatened to sit beside him. It was undoubtedly because of the perception of the school to their relationship. After all, most siblings were at each other's throats and liked to distance themselves. Some were even members of different houses. Lucian pulled out his quill and doodled on his parchment as he waited for Tenebris, his eyes glancing back towards the door every now and again in anticipation.</s> <|message|>Lucian Tenebris' Ancient Rune class went by fast- it was a decent class, and Tenebris actually liked it quite a bit. Most others found it boring, though they did enjoy looking at the Centaur who was teaching it. Tenebris didn't see the same thing as everyone else, obviously. He was pretty, but not attractive. After writing down her homework assignment-- Homework on the first day! -- Tenebris exited class, scurrying down the hall towards the Charms classroom. As she approached it, someone placed a hand gently on her shoulder. Turning, expecting it to be Lucian, Tenebris was surprised to see a boy from her year, Thomas Brooks, smiling softly at her. "Oh! Good morning, Thomas." Tenebris smiled, hands latched on her bag, eager to get to Charms. Thomas's cheeks reddened when Tenebris spoke to him, and he placed a hand on his neck, looking slightly nervous. "Good morning." He let out a soft chuckle, his blue eyes never straying from her own green ones. "I was wondering if maybe--- maybe you'd like to work on our homework together tonight?" His voice rose as he finished his sentence, and he flushed a darker red, clearing his throat, embarrassment clear in his features. Tenebris thought it was cute. Possibly he liked her- though she wasn't entirely sure. "Sure! I'll probably be back in the common-room by seven, if you want to meet there." She grinned and nodded happily, as Thomas's own nervous grin turned into an excited one. "Yeah, sounds good! I'll see you at seven, then." He turned and walked the opposite direction, a satisfied smile on his face. Tenebris watched him for a moment before turning away as well, and continuing onto Charms. Entering the classroom, she spotted Lucian, and her face broke into a large grin as she took her seat next to him. "How was Herbology?"</s> <|message|>Tenebris The anticipation was getting to Lucian. His body ached in response and he found himself gripping his quill even more firmly. Where was she? Class was just about to start and there was no sign of his sister. Had she gotten in trouble? Was someone distracting her? His mind wandered to every possible scenario, and just as he was about to lift himself from his desk to leave class and go check on her, he saw Tenebris walk through the doorway and into the classroom. Her grin distracted him from all of the thoughts he'd had before and when she asked him about Herbology, he cleared his throat and dropped his quill, shifting his body to face her. "It was dreadful," he said with a sigh. "Professor Sprout insisted we learn the merits of Bubotuber pus. It was a slog. I'm surprised the stench isn't still on my robes." He shook his head. "Otherwise, it was fine. You were nearly late. Something going on?" Lucian quickly shifted the attention away from himself and back onto Tenebris. He wanted to keep her protected, but despite their classes together, it was impossible to have an eye on her at all times. Although, he was trying to change that. He knew about Potter's Marauder's Map and wondered if he could borrow it from him just so he would know where Tenebris was at all times.</s> <|message|>Lucian Tenebris wrinkled her nose at the mention of Bubotuber pus. She'd heard it was terrible, and she wasn't looking forward to using it when she got to her last year. Grabbing the things she needed out of her bag, Tenebris set the slightly lighter bag down on the floor next to her. When Lucian asked her why she was late, Tenebris hesitated. She didn't want to tell him the real reason- it was a very strong possibility that he would get angry... But at the same time, she knew she wouldn't be able to hide it from him. "Oh, nothing important," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "I was asked to study with a classmate, that's all." Tenebris purposely kept it vague, determined not to mention it was a male classmate. As Professor Flitwick began speaking, Tenebris jotted down the notes she would need for their homework and possible future tests. Her mixed classes would be quite a bit harder than her usual courses, so she needed to make sure not to miss anything important. She didn't want to fail the higher classes, since everyone was counting on her to do well in them.</s>

<|message|>Tenebris Lucian sensed something in Tenebris's eyes when she told him where she'd been. A classmate? Why hadn't she just said the person's name? Why did she choose to torment Lucian with this nugget of information without giving him an opportunity to delve deeper before Professor Flitwick commenced with his lesson. Lucian gritted his teeth and started to jot down notes, but his mind was elsewhere. It was those sort of minute happenings that ate at his overactive mind. He took a deep breath and looked over in his sister's direction every so often. He was tempted to cut through the silence and address the elephant in the room. He had a lull in his note-taking as his mind betrayed him towards the end of class and before Flitwick had even finished his lesson, Lucian got up from his seat and walked out of class abruptly, the entire class's eyes on him as he rushed towards the door. He ignored Professor Flitwick's protest and jogged along the corridor, his heart beating in his throat, his breathing labored. He clutched the top of the staircase railing and rested his body against it, feeling as if he might pass out. What was Tenebris doing to him?</s>

<|description|>Arachne (Assumed name: Autumn Weltich) Age: 3423 (assuming the Silver Age of Ovid's Four Ages) Gender: Female Breed/Species/Type/Lineage: Spider Queen (formally human) Physical Description: Talents:Mother of all spiders, expert weaver, informant, and political clout. History:Arachne, the namesake and origin of all arachnids. In a bygone age her arrogance and haughty attitude brought the wrath of the Greek goddess, Athena. At the attempt to insult and put herself as an equal to the gods she was cursed so that she and her descendants would weave forever. Transformed the woman became the first spider. Under the thumb of those more powerful she remained hidden for thousands of years. But as fate would have it even so called gods had their time. The queens spawn spread across the four corners of the Earth. With no one to stop her Arachne used her children to begin gathering information. Very little escaped her far reaching grasp, spiders having become common place throughout the world. Of course humans were not highly liked by her as they were always crushing her creations. In retaliation she made more deadly variations to fight back. As the ancient times gave way and humanity advanced the Spider Queen gained quite a reputation among the supernatural world. Everyone had their secrets and she would cling to them as her tiny agents crept and crawled their way into everything. Staying out of most internal politics she also made moves in the mortal world. Offering her services she could steal most anything either through persuasion, intimidation, or execution. Assassination of an individual took little more than a spider bite. Growing in influence and wealth she changed her public appearance for modern times. Having again assumed a human form she has emerged from the darkness to build an empire among the mortals. For a time she had others hold her place as President of the company but recently has taken the position herself. Of course she still holds an influence in the supernatural, and largely remains "untouchable" for fear of untold secrets being revealed in both realms. Holding a high position in several courts the sudden silence from New Camden did not go unnoticed. Psychological Profile:She can be cold and values information above most other things. It can be a flaw at times. Having an affinity for neither the human or supernatural sides she treats them both with little regard. Some would say that acting human has made her soft though. Still everything and everyone is another piece to be used. Obviously some must be treated better than others. There is something to be said for respect after all. Possessions:Athenian Law Group, a law firm that has its hands in many facets of both worlds. A tribute or insult to the former goddess; Spiders, as the original source of all spiders she rules over them. It may not sound like much but varying in size and deadly potential the public only sees the surface. Yes, and: Acting as a buffer between worlds, Arachne's firm will often intervene on behalf of the courts to keep those who do not belong in the human world off the radar. She both employed Karram and appointed him to handle Claudia's case.</s> <|message|>Antonio Victor Barnes Tony just gave Flint a flat look that might have easily broadcast, "Whitey, please" if he had a big sign over his head. He knew how to handle a Kalashnikov. The big lever on the right side of the receiver went all the way down for rock n' roll, the charging handle pulled back (and one round ejected, just to make sure it was feeding properly) and yeah, he knew the drill. This was one of the black polymer furniture jobs with a big flash suppressor or recoil compensator on the barrel and some sort of optics on there, he wasn't up on the current terminology, but this was the same sort of gun the Cong used in the big bad bush back in '68. Not much had changed in that sense since he'd done half a tour in the 'Nam and went bugfuck nuts as a beastman, hunting the long pig all over the Mekong Delta and possibly into Cambodia -- he wasn't exactly reading a map when he did it. So three vampire thralls were dead, but it was better than the three of them putting grenades in the kitchen or catching them in a crossfire. He might have felt a little awkward about enjoying the killing so much, but the necessity of the act? Not so much. Thralls were bad news, especially if you let the crazy fuckers get started. They were all Tony Montana on a brick of Colombia's finest yayo, vicious and eager to score another drink of that v-juice, screaming, "SAY HEY-LO TO MY LEETLE FRIEN' MAIN!" and letting off the whole mag in one big 80's movie go. He'd done some drugs, especially during the 60's and 70's, but he never touched vamp blood no matter what others said about how awesome it was; it was supposed to be one of those incredible highs...for the low low price of servitude to the vampire providing it. They loved to spread the stuff around too, and now that Nemsemet had them on his side, it meant that key mortals in the city government, including law enforcement, were going to look the other way when thralls with rocket launchers demolished a place. "I'm here, man," he replied to Parael, from the dark. He was dripping in gore and looked like some crazy rapist with Freddy Kreuger gloves got at his wardrobe, it was in tatters on him, but he was alert and calm, "I can see damn good in the dark man, why don't you and whoever else knows how to drive grab some sort of vehicle, even if you have to hotwire the bitch, because we all aren't fitting in the cop's car. I'll cover this shit with Dexter Morgan here," he jerked a thumb at Claudia, "Because I get the feeling she can figure out an AK." There was one of those left, on one of the corpses in the back yard, but not every supernatural being was up on how weaponry worked. Vampires tended to love the goddamn guns. But then there were people like the shield girl there, who weren't hip the idea that tactics changed. Maybe he smelled the gunpowder on Claudia; she'd been firing a weapon, after all, and there was a sharp and unmistakable tang to the scent of gunpowder. He knew that Sturm und Drang there wouldn't appreciate the niceties of taking cover and suppression fire and Parael needed to find a car, and probably knew how to actually drive one. No idea about the other dude, so he took the safe bet; he trusted his nose.</s> <|message|>Gray Conover Gray was thankful a simple no was sufficient enough for her to correct him. He hated lectures. Autumn paused appearing withdrawn for a moment before she continued. Gray really could have seen Autumn Weltich as an alias but then she said exactly what she was. He parked the car on the side of the street. Cars drifted by. It was obvious by the buzz of the town that a lot of people had heard the commotion in the distant neighborhood. Since it most certainly had direct relation to this situation he figured it would never make the news. Gray sat there in silence for an uncomfortable moment. After the moment ended he put the car in drive and started on down the road again. Quietly drifting down the road a ways he asked a loaded question he already knew the answer for. "Have you killed anyone?" The answer didn't matter. He already had his own response planned. "I have. The worst monster I ever met wasn't covered in fur, claws or scales. He was a man. I had to kill him because he was far more deserving that fate than anyone else." Though he liked to know someone like anyone else, he didn't want any more reason to be angry at her or think about his personal code. "Don't hide it anymore from me. But I don't really want to hear anything else about it right now." He'd been brooding since she broke the dam. Gray would get over it pretty quickly, he usually did.</s> <|message|>Arachne (Assumed name: Autumn Weltich) Still alive it seemed. Though that didn't mean that this was over. The stop was expected given the gravity of her claim. Knowing better than to press the matter further she sat back in the passenger seat as they rode in silence. Only to give directions on where to turn did she speak. They were headed for one of the larger hotels in the city. It was also a much more expensive one to be sure. It was unlikely that any other supernatural would just happen to be there. Once they were parked she took the lead, motioning for Grey to lose the brooding expression. Her company had an account with this particular chain, Zohara Hotel. The upscale environment made a good setting to entertain prospects and business partners. Being a regular also meant that the staff knew better than to enter her suite without permission. Usually on the upper floors also meant that keeping track of the entrances was easy and the view was good for overlooking a decent portion of New Camden. Of course Arachne rarely did such things, but other associates found it useful. Apparently everything was already arranged for them, the woman having stopped in in advance. She knew that Grey would come along. The elevator ride was as silent as the one in the car. Not until they were safely in their hotel room did she look back inquisitively. The space was probably much more than he was used to. A rather large open living room that opened up into the kitchen. It sported a granite countertop bar and everything one would need for entertaining. Of course in this case that was not on the agenda, but in case Grey wanted something strong it was available. There were two bedrooms, the doors to which were on opposite sides of the living space. They each would have their privacy which they would want from the beginning but after Autumn's confession the need was highlighted. Not wasting time she walked over to the windows and lowered the screens. Taking a seat on a barstool she removed her heels which no matter what never seemed to be comfortable enough. "Well we're here. What else would you like to know?"</s> <|message|>Gray Conover Gray brought in the same case he usually carried and rested it at the foot of the bed he had been designated. It held his armor and rifle with parts included. The suite wasn't something he generally stayed in but it held a charm he wasn't entirely unused to. The Conover family had their own small fortune though it had waned as of late, a product of the trials made by the modern age. He hoped to bring that wealth back and secure their spot as respectable hunters. The seats were cozy and clean in the common area, a perk he took immediate advantage of. Gray wasn't much a drinker. Inhibited senses were never fun in a situation like this. You never could tell what could go wrong. Autumn took a seat. No, it wasn't Autumn, it was Arachne. That's right. He couldn't get over the name. Screw Arachne, I'm still going to think of her as Autumn. Autumn took her seat and opened up for questions. Except he didn't really have questions to ask. Not about her. "Autumn. What do we do next? I've got the tools, give me a target. One way or another we need to stop this magic. Whether we hit some minions or go for the head. I'm sick of waiting for more people to die."</s> <|message|>Flint White Flint was quickly back at his car, he hadn't met with any resistance on the way and he hadn't heard any gunfire in a while. This meant one of two things, the enemy had been defeated, or they were advancing on the house. As he reached his car he met Beth, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. "That plan of yours, Flint dear, what was it again?" The Poltergeist asked. Flint seemed to contemplate the words, before reaching into his jacket and taking out a hip flask, gulping down the liquid within. After, he looked as if he was about to say something, but instead retrieved a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with his hand. Finally after a few puffs of smoke entered the air, he turned to Beth once more. "I have a place, an old apartment complex, running water, gas cookers and bunk beds" Flint took another draw on the cigarette. "No wards or anything fancy, but I'm hoping some of our more mysteriously magical 'friends' could help with that" He said friends in what could only be the most sarcastic way possible. Flint looked to where he had come from, waiting for anyone else to come a long for the journey. He opened the Bentleys doors and slid into the driver's seat, throwing the AK onto the passenger side. He didn't unlock the passenger side door and made sure the assault rifle lay on top of the seat, hoping to signify to anyone that he wasn't allowing anyone to sit in the front. He looked in the glove compartment and began placing ammunition for his revolver in his pockets, taking the time to load the aforementioned gun before sliding it back into its holster. The back doors where open and he silently waited for anyone else to come over. He took another swig of his flask as he waited, sighing heavily. "I should have left town years ago" he muttered to himself.</s>

<|message|>Arachne (Assumed name: Autumn Weltich) It was business as usual apparently. The gesture of calling her by her human name took Arachne back a bit. She would answer to either name though. "I don't know where the head is. And we have the element of surprise right now being from the outside. If we play our hand too soon then we risk getting the jump on the enemy." Letting her hair down she lightly brushed it out so it wouldn't get tangled. Pausing for a moment she lowered a hand to the counter. A small spider crawled out from the underside of the bar and onto her finger. Lifting it up she appeared to listen briefly before letting it climb its way up her arm and down her body to the floor. "Apparently a local daycare is what was lit up today. A force mostly consisting of thralls attacked the place with traditional firearms and RPGs. Not entirely sure who they were trying to take out but a few in the group I recognize. A Faerie that worked for my firm for a time and a half-demon that he represented in human court." Stopping so as not to drone on she got to her feet and seemed to be thinking. "We should wait and see what side they are on. I'm sure we'll find out before the end of the night since they will need to scurry to a new hole."</s>

<|description|>Brandy Lee Brooks Age: 21 Race: Human Sex: Female Appearance: Brandy has lightly tanned skin, dark brown hair just below her shoulders. She is about 5'5" tall, slender build, green eyes and a scar above her left eye. She is book smart, but lacks the necessary survival skills to travel the Wasteland on her own. Even though she is good at constructing and creating things, she's accident prone. Skills: Moonshiner and a handywoman/carpenter Personality: Brandy is friendly, and kind. She tends to blab about the things that she has read in her pre-war books. She is a big dreamer, fueled by the books she reads. She has been relatively coddled, therefore leaving her naive to many things, and also because she longs to see the new world to resemble what she has seen in books and other prewar literature so she overlooks many negative things if the wasteland. Weapons & armor/clothing: .22 pistol, 12 gauge pump shotgun. No armor, Brandy wears summer dresses or tan work boots, khaki shorts, pants and various tops and a dirty red baseball cap. She wears black framed reading glasses the majority of the time, though she is only slightly farsighted. Occupation: Brandy has a small copper still that she uses to brew her Papa's Potion moonshine. She had a toolbelt filled with various tools for handy work. Faction: None, but she has done odd jobs for the Minutemen and their communities in order to get by. Backstory: Brandy and her brother Ricky were raised by their grandparents, Bob and Cathy, in northern Michigan. Brandy and Ricky grew up in the family business of distilling their own alcohol, better known as Papa's Potion. Cathy taught Brandy from mostly pre-war books, as she was the homemaker and didn't venture out to much. During the warmer months, Brandy enjoyed working with her Papa repairing and or building new structures around the settlement and surrounding areas. When Brandy turned 18, her inquisitive nature had her yearning to explore the Wasteland. She had never been far from home at all. Ricky, now 21, had traveled with his buddies and the stories they told only made Brandy long to experience it even more for herself. At 19 Brandy's grandfather passed away, and her grandmother Cathy told her to follow her heart. Cathy convinced Ricky to let Brandy tag along on their next expedition. Reluctantly, Ricky said he would take her. When she was 20 years old, it was Brandy's job to set up camp and prepare meals. Other than traveling during the day, Ricky wouldn't let her do much else. He told Brandy when they started getting closer to D.C. That he would let her scavenge with them. Her lack of knowledge and clumsiness drove Ricky and his friends crazy. One day they tried to teach her to shoot a .22 pistol. Brandy was so jittery wanting to impress him that she accidentally squeezed off a round grazing his leg. Ricky automatically reacted by swinging a tire iron at her. It nailed on the left side of her forehead leaving a large gash and rendered her unconscious. Ever since that day the guys wouldn't let her touch a loaded gun. Stuck with setting up camp, and bored out of her mind, Brandy would drink the whiskey they had made. Only wrecking her relationship with her brother even more. Eventually Ricky left Brandy in the Boston Commonwealth to fend for herself. She wandered into The Sanctuary and helped the Minutemen fix up the settlement. She was told of an up and coming settlement, Salem, and a couple of the Minutemen traveled with her to Salem so she could rebuild her life, and the new settlement.</s> <|message|>FRIEDA RICHTER FRIEDA RICHTER -- Salem Clinic -- Late Morning Frieda quietly followed the doctor to the back of the church. He appeared physically exhausted and she couldn't help but notice he tensed at the mention of caps for the supplies. "Look...I can't pay Celeste for the supplies. I don't even have the uh..caps," there was an odd lilt in his voice when he used the word. "But, I need them regardless. The young woman back there needs proper medical treatment to prevent further infection and Eliza..." he pointed upwards, to the second floor, "Is still on the path to recovery. I don't understand what is it with you wastelanders. Everything has a price. Everything has its cost. Every chance is an opportunity to get more money or chems...or..or whatever! And god-forbid we work together communally to actually do something other than live in abject squalor and moral degradation our entire lives! For Pete's sake, there was a woman lying on the floor of the diner dying and people kept on eating their lunch like it was...oh..you know..just a merry ol' average day. Woman just got mugged and nearly shot to death, but hey...just another lovely day in The Commonwealth of Massachusetts right?" Frieda's eyes widened, her mouth slightly open, a response not immediately available. The doctor took a breath to compose himself, then continued. "Sorry," He said, calmly, "Didn't uh...didn't mean to get heated there. I'm running off well..no sleep right now and I could just about murder for a decent cup of coffee that isn't made with a 200 year old tin of Slocum Joe's....well not literally of course. Figuratively. I wouldn't you know actually...nevermind. Anyway..."He gave a quick shake of his head and changed the subject, "....I don't exactly know what Celeste wants for the supplies, but it can't be caps. That much I'm certain of." Frieda looked around and behind her, to ensure they were alone. The brutish man had hung back, or left, but either way his form wasn't visible. She took a small step towards the doctor. "Look, I'm with you, on that point. On all your points. For what it's worth, Celeste doesn't really care about being paid, but if I didn't say something, it would have looked suspicious. I'll handle her." She glanced around, again. "I knew you were...different, somehow, from when I saw you last night at the diner. Familiar, in a way. Your skin texture, your hair. You didn't grow up scraping in the dirt like the rest of these," she swallowed hard, "people. And, neither did I." She straightened her posture and offered a quick salute. "It's Richter, Frieda Richter, formerly Class Triple A, air division, of the Enclave. Division 59N-39." She gave a small smile, and a nod. "I don't get a military vibe, but you sure as shit aren't surface dweller, either." Frieda took the same small step back. "I'm...not good with people. I came here to connect with you, not threaten you. I know how important it is to hide in plain sight, in a way. I crashed my Vertibird -- by accident, but it's a boon, of sorts. The Enclave will have found the vehicle totalled and likely assume me dead. I didn't exactly ask for permission to leave, but they won't be chomping at the bit to find out if I survived. I know that from experience." "I think we should...talk. Later, though, when you're not so busy, or exhausted. There was a trader in town -- two, actually -- and maybe I can see about getting us some real coffee." Her expression softened. "Meantime, let me help you at least prep the linens. I only have very basic field medic training, which extends as far as, 'cover what's bleeding and call for help'." Frieda gently pushed some hair out of her face. "Pass me some scissors, and I'll get to work. Just going to step out for a smoke."</s> <|message|>Rick Noel Rick Noel - Running Rick was running south for a bit, and then started to head to the northeast. He didn't want to lead the cultist if they were still chasing him towards Salem. He finally reached the old Museum of Witchcraft. He leaned over, placing his hand on his knees as he caught his breath. He wasn't out of shape or anything but running on a treadmill was far different from running on uneven ground. He started to walk towards the town, passing some dilapidated and ruined building located close to the museum. It felt odd, mostly because of the weird sounds that came from the museum every so often. He walked forward but kept turning his head to look back every so often, being wary of whatever lay inside museum, and for anyone that may be chasing him. As he approached the town he could see the some buildings and the resemblance of a town. He began to walk faster, but was surprised to come upon a woman riding a strange beast. He stood there dumbfounded, he had read of horses on his books, but never imagined he'd see one. He thought they were extinct, but here was one creature. He made a mental note to procure a blood sample and send it via courier to the Vault, the biology department would go gaga with the specimen. He waved his arms to catch the woman's attention. She was riding outside of the town so she deserved to be warned. She halted the creature by him, and it look bigger than he ever thought possible. His hand trembled and he ran his hand close to its face, feeling the hairs and warmth of the creature. It truly was a majestic creature, how it had managed to survive, was beyond him. He shook his head remembering why he had stopped her. He pointed west, "You have to be careful out here. I just came from some place called Dunwich Borers. Some creepy stuff happening over there, hooded men and women chanting before some stone monolith. Also they were digging further down... They chased me when they saw me, I think I gave them the slip, but I'd be careful if I were you. They definitely did not seem friendly… and the presen-…yeah not friendly." He wanted to mention the weird presence in the place, what had called him there, but his logical mind found such a notion ridiculous. He didn't want to come across as fool to this strange. He fixed the straps on his backpack, "Sorry, for the rudeness. My name is Rick, Rick Noel… But please believe me, stay away from that area."</s>

<|message|>Brandy Lee Brooks Brandy Brooks - Sandy Coves - Late morning/ early afternoon Brandy just shied away a little bit, letting the Archie and Celeste speak. The one man who introduced himself she remembered from the diner last night. During a brief pause Brandy waved at him, "Hi Adam, I'm Brandy, not sure if I introduced myself last night, I had a little beer buzz." She listened as the bigger man said Dr. Arthur was in need of supplies, she put a finger over her mouth in thought. She didn't have much, and from what she remembered the Dr. looked pretty worn out in the diner. Frieda jumped in and offered to negotiate on Celeste's behalf with Dr. Arthur, "Well, all right!" Freida looked at Brandy and smiled. "See you later. Why don't we meet at the diner for some dinner? My treat." "Oh, that sounds good. I'll see you later then." It was quiet for a brief second, so Brandy took the opportunity to ask a quick question, "I noticed a few things outside, Celeste, can I look at the wheelchairs that I saw? Maybe I can clean and fix them up for the doctor." Archie floated near Brandy, she reached out and touched his metal body and studied him as he spoke, "Miss Brandy, I took the liberty of disposing the rubbish outside. There are many items that could potentially be repurposed. Except, well...the skeletons of course. Perhaps manager Celeste would allow you, and Mr. Wilford to peruse through the rubbish if you so choose." Celeste gave a nod of approval. "Great, thank you so much. If I'm lucky I will find more wood to fix up stuff around town. I'm going to go and have a look and see if I can find some stuff." Brandy walked out into the Salem sun, she saw Frieda and the large man heading to the clinic. She dug through the edges of the pile, she found three wheelchairs, one seemed ok and just needed a cleaning. The second one needed a front wheel, and the thirds was missing the seat, awesome, that one can be for spare parts. She then picked up a bed pan and sat it aside. She took the operational wheelchair and carefully stacked the others on to it after folding them up, but it was still a tipsy load. It didn't take long for her to work up a little sweat. The road was still in disrepair and she had to keep catching the two stacked chairs from falling. "G'morning kiddo," Waylon startled her as she pushed and pulled the chairs by S&W, " Need a hand?" Brandy pushed some hair aside, "Sure, just taking these home to clean them up and fix one of the broken ones for Dr. Arthur." "Yeah, after Eliza got brought in last night, I bet Shelby could use one to push her around." He noticed Brandy's inquisitive look, "Shelby is at the clinic, her girlfriend was carried in, she was in bad shape." "OH NO ," Brandy gasped, "I guess it's a good thing Celeste let me have these chairs then. I'm going to give Dr. Arthur some moonshine and glue too. The shine to clean the wounds, the glue can be used instead of stitches in smaller cuts." Waylon nodded, "Good idea, let's get your projects home then. I was heading to the diner to grab some grub." They arrived at Brandy's place, "Thanks Waylon, I really appreciate it." "No problem, if ya need a hand later give me a holler." "Alright, see you later," Brandy fetched her tools and some Abraxo cleaner then a pail of water. She cleaned the wheelchairs up, some spots required some serious scrubbing. She took the wheel off the parts chair and installed it on the second, now good chair. She went inside and grabbed her oil can and lubed up all the bearings and bushings then pushed the two chairs around to make sure they worked well. Satisfied with her handy work, she went to her basement and brought up two mason jars of moonshine, four towels, and three wash clothes. She loaded them into a small crate and went back for two bottles of glue and two larger crates. She wheeled one chair to the clinic and returned home and brought the second chair. She walked inside and saw the large man standing there, the woman from the diner earlier was laying on a bed. Brandy quietly looked around for the doctor, she didn't see him, nor did she just want to go looking for Shelby without asking him first. She pushed one wheelchair somewhat close to the injured woman on the first floor, then pushed the second one up in front of the pulpit. She took one large crate and placed it at the foot of the bed the woman was laying on, "For you to put your things in," she whispered and smiled. She took the second large crate and sat it next to the wheelchair by the pulpit, neatly stacking the crate with supplies and the clean bedpan on top. She picked up a Bible and sat in an old, weathered pew and read while waiting quietly for Dr. Arthur.</s>

<|description|>Lucille A young woman, not yet a day over 26 years old. She is intriguing and adventurous, trained in various forms of self-defense and investigation. Her appearance is enticing: she wears a petticoat that highlights her impressive cleavage, has caramel-colored hair with flawless locks resembling those of an innocent doe, and possesses a body made for any man's desire with perfect curves and a full chest. She exhibits caregiving traits, taking on the role of helping Sherlock Holmes recover from his seclusion.</s> <|description|>Holmes A man who has fallen into seclusion, showing signs of ill-keptness and slight madness in his eyes. His attire is unkempt, slightly singed, and he has a minor hint of madness amplified by his engrossment in experiments. Despite his odd behavior, he possesses an impressive intellect and is skilled in chemistry. He can be stubborn at times but also shows appreciation for beauty when it's presented to him.</s> <|narrator|>Lucille Klaus arrives at Sherlock Holmes's residence to help pull him out of his secluded state. She enters his room unannounced and begins to make changes to improve his living conditions. Despite Holmes's initial resistance, she manages to convince him that they should collaborate on an experiment. While he continues with his work, Lucille starts cleaning up the messy environment around them and prepares herself for hands-on involvement in their project by changing into more suitable clothing. Throughout their interaction, there is a tension between their differing personalities---Lucille's nurturing nature clashing against Holmes's stubborn independence---but they seem determined to find common ground and work together.</s> <|message|>Lucille Lucille Klaus was a young woman, not yet a day over 26. She was a woman of intrigue and adventure, trained in many different forms of self-defense and investigation. Her biggest assignment? To pull the ever curious Sherlock Holmes out of his state of seclusion. Not even the most talented of doctors could manage to do this; it was a wonder if Lucille ever managed to pull Sherlock out of his strange behavior he was practicing. But, Lucille just accepted that he was a strange man who would always have strange behaviors. His loneliness just caused it to become more clear once and again. She just needed to find a way to keep him from being lonely... that was where she came in. Lucille was to be his new companion, and she would draw attention to him indeed. The minute she got to 221 Baker Street, she was immediately sent up to a room by a pushy old woman. When she reached for the knob, the old lady nearly screamed. There had been a gunshot - "That bloody..." she muttered. Lucille stopped the old woman. "Ma'm... don't worry about escorting me in," she said. "I understand Mr. Holmes is in this room. I shall go in myself." With that, she thanked the old woman and slipped into the dark room without warning. She closed the door behind her and turned around. She wore a petticoat that pushed her breasts together, creating an even more impressive cleavage. So sexy from the odd lighting of the room, yet dressed like any other woman. Her hair was a caramel color and had wonderful, flawless locks that matched her innocent doe eyes. Her body was made for any man's desire with perfect curves and a full chest.</s> <|message|>Holmes Sherlock Holmes was his usual self when he went into seclusion, ill-kept, his clothing slightly singed, and his eyes had that minor hint of...madness, amplified by losing himself in his experiments. "Now, now," he said, turning to find someone he didn't expect. "And who might you be?" His eyes, in their usual way, noted everything about her. "Ah, yes, you must be Miss... Miss... Miss Klaus, yes? Well, your services are not required. I have no need of an assistant." He stated matter-of-factly.</s> <|message|>Lucille Instantly, seeing poor Sherlock in such a case, she felt inclined to help him. If he wanted help or not, that was the least of her worries. In the long run, he would thank her. "Mr. Holmes," she said, looking towards him and placing her things down on the ground, "I am here, sir, and I am here to stay." She looked towards him, raising an eyebrow in fascination at his handling of the gun and what he had explained before. Taking off her petticoat, she draped it over a chair. Then, she walked over to the window. She opened up the curtains so that he could once again become familiar with the natural light. She felt like a mother who was caring for her sick child. She was going to help this man recover no matter what it took.</s> <|message|>Holmes He winced slightly at the light, eyes adjusting. "Now then, it is quite simple," he said matter-of-factly. "This is my home and I am busy in experiments." He gestured to the smoky smell in the air. "And unless you are up to date on the latest Articles of Chemistry, then you are no use to me."</s> <|message|>Lucille She went over to him and bent down her face inches from his. "You best clean yourself up, Holmes," she said, "I think we should go for a little walk. I won't be moving from this spot until you listen." She sat down very close by to him and rolled her eyes slightly. He was such a handsome man... but way too intelligent for his own sanity. Not saying she didn't like a smart man... he was most certainly appealing to her... but that was beside the point. She just wanted to get him back into the swing of normal living. And normal living did not consist of rotting away in one's room and living off experiments as much as food.</s> <|message|>Holmes "You should change your attire, most men would assume you were a streetwalker," he commented offhandedly, going back to his work...moving around the obstruction in his room, firing off another shot as he sniffed the composition. "Hmmm...interesting," he added, scribbling something down as he continued working.</s> <|message|>Lucille Her face turned bright red as she turned and looked at him. "Oh, could you be a little nicer, Holmes? I am, after all, just trying to keep you from becoming a madman," she said, watching as he got up again and got back to work with the gun. "Fine!" she suddenly huffed, getting up and looking towards him. "If you want to do your little experiments, then why don't you show me what you're doing or come up with one we could at least do together..." she added, looking somewhat annoyed. Sighing, she took her hair out as well and rolled up her sleeves as best she could. Clearly, she was preparing herself for something hands-on. An experiment. "I really don't like this dress... do you, by any chance, have a pair of slacks and a shirt I could borrow?"</s> <|message|>Holmes "There should be some spare somewhere," he said, gesturing to the room. "As for the ear thing, I was just testing how certain additive compounds affect gunpowder - the smell, sound, force, even taste of the powder when it's ignited." He added, concocting another batch.</s> <|message|>Lucille She looked towards him with flared nostrils then rolled her eyes. "I see... I'll just... grab something that doesn't look like it's growing something on it," she said, making her way around the room in annoyance. Slowly, she slipped off her dress as she found a pair of slacks. She slipped on the pants, which were a little baggy and long on her. Then, she started searching the room for a white shirt while she still wore her tight corset. "Goodness.... Holmes... I'm really going to do some cleaning while you work... do you mind?" she asked, looking towards him and deciding that might be the best way to start their new, fresh start.</s> <|message|>Holmes "If you move a single research paper, thesis or scrawl of mine then you will have ruined countless months of work," he said, turning and pausing as the corseted bosom was in front of him, eyes appreciating it for a moment. "It is through the chaos that genius can be wrought," he added, meeting her gaze. "Are we clear?"</s>

<|message|>Lucille She sighed and looked at him for a long moment. Then, she said in a rather cold voice, "Very well... I'll let you keep your room like this... where's your bed though? Can you at least clean yourself up?" she looked towards him with disapproval. "May I please have a shirt? I can't seem to find one... can you find one in this terribly organized room?" she looked towards him slightly short-fused.</s>

<|description|>Biancca Del'Arivara Username: Austronaut Race/Species: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Career (if any) and Skills: Duelist Dancer Weapons: Rapier, Dagger, brace of dueling pistols. Throwing knives. Attire: Biancca dresses in a mercenary's approximation of court dress. She wears an ensemble of white and red silks with a tightly fitting leather vest. Stylish but functional leather boots round of the costume as well as a red cape, popular in Tilean dueling circles. Equipment/Other Poisons: Raised in affluence Biancca knows the polite way of doing things. Clothing: Biancca's affection for pretty dresses and clothes is something of a joke. She dosen't travel light if she dosen't have to. Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): Biancca is a beautiful Tilean woman, with dark hair and sparkling dark eyes. She has a classically beautiful heart shaped face, the kind Tilean painters like to use for a model. Red lips form a little cupid's bow mouth that make her seem friendly and more innocent than she actually is. About average height she possesses a lithe grace and her slight frame supported tightly corded muscle. She has a dancer's physique which has treated her well in the mercenary life. Mental Description/Personality: Biancca is vivacious and loves life. She is quick to anger and quick to forgive. She has a regrettable tendency to leap before she looks and to become caught up in the drama of a situation when she should rightly be paying attention to business. While generally friendly, she can be mercurial, and quick to be swayed by a handsome face or convincing oratory. Background/History: Biancca was born into the lower Tilean aristocracy and spent her girlhood in and around the various petty courts of that war torn kingdom. As a result she has an unusually good education, particularly in etiquette, and speaks like a noble. Unfortunately for Biancca her various bastard uncles were a staple in the mercenary trade and filled her head with tales of glory and adventure. Quickly the safe walls seemed stuffy and constricting. It was no real challenge to use some of her allowance to get some training and to use her looks to convince amorous bravo's to show her a trick or two with sword or pistol. By the time she turned seventeen she enlisted in a mercenary company with the sponsorship of her Uncle Rodrigo. Sleeping rough wasn't all it was cracked up to be but she found adventure and excitement a'plenty.</s> <|message|>Bjorn the Bearblooded Just as quickly as it had all began, just as Bjorn was able to tackle and strangle a screaming goblin, the would-be bloodfest turned into... dinner. It was an odd moment for Bjorn. There he stood with a large, heavy slab of stone he'd picked up, ready to hurl it at the offending goblin that had attacked them all from above. In those moments, the Norsca had a chance to make a few very important observations: First: he realized the dwarf was right, and these were all probably going to be his brothers-in-battle. These people would be the ones he'd depend on for survival. Second: he realized that while he could possibly kill them, that would leave him without brothers-in-battle. Third: he'd probably lose the job if he killed his compatriots. Fourth: food. Eat. Therefore, deciding it was best to belay his killing urges, Bjorn sat himself down at the feasting table and grabbed a whole platter of mutton for himself. He ate voraciously, much as befit a hungry barbarian, and displayed all the courtly niceties of a rabid, starving wolf. As he ate, the Skaeling began to look over his... battle brothers... for the first time. Well, he had seen them before, but things were finally calm enough that he could inspect them. The dwarf he gave his attention to first, wiping grease off his chin as he eyed the fellow. He seemed caught in a conversation with the woman that had entered the room last, grumbling something about the "manling lordling" that Bjorn couldn't make out over the sound of his own chewing. But what struck Bjorn was he was staring at an obvious veteran, a man whose hand appeared to be made of metal. His hair was graying, and his scars were numerous. Perhaps he couldn't reach the top of a bookshelf, but he seemed like an asset at the least. Then there was the woman. Truth be told, Bjorn found it hard to be attracted to her, as much as he missed having a warm woman pressed against him. True, she was beautiful enough, but she was still young. What's more, she was shaped like a twig. She didn't have the girth of a proper Norsca woman. She did, however, have a warrior's confidence on her face - and that confused Bjorn, since she didn't seem to carry any real weapons on her. What in Khorne's accursed name did she intend to do with that skinny sword? Still, she had those guns as well, and if she was any good with them, well... that would be useful. That would be very useful. His eyes flicked to the hobgoblin next. What little experience the Norsca had with hobgoblins told him they were a treacherous lot, not to be depended on in a pinch. Though this greenskin's attire was a little foreign to him, Bjorn had no doubt the best way to make sure the little monster actually fought was to keep it in front of him. Bjorn trusted the smaller goblin a little more, specifically because he could throw him farther. He also noticed the goblin was eyeing him specifically, the same way he'd seen soldiers and adventurers staring at well bred horses for sale. The goblin, being weak like goblins naturally are, must have decided that the biggest person in the room was the best to keep close. This made sense: in greenskin bands, it was often the biggest, scariest ork which ruled them all. Of course, that probably meant the goblin, like his taller kinsman, would turn yellow as soon as any of the fighting went south. And it could very well be the goblin was just thinking about stabbing him in the back first, or contemplating which boot to steal first should he die. Once again, the Norsca made a mental note to make certain the greenskins marched at the front of the battle lines. There was one more fellow among these battle brothers: the halfling. He just... boggled Bjorn. He was musclebound, like a small, rounded ball of raw fury. If he didn't know any better, Bjorn might have thought the halfling was a tiny ogre, so muscular was he. He ate like a champion, too, tearing at a haunch of ham like some sort of ravenous beast. His face had a sort of scowl to it, even though he certainly seemed to be enjoying his meal, as if he were going to rip off the arm of anyone that threatened his platter of meat and vegetables. And his cleaver... it was... Well, Bjorn knew he didn't want to learn if the halfling could swing that cleaver just yet. Really, when Bjorn looked out at the group as a whole, he realized something: there was an awful lot of distrust. The greenskins were hard to read, but that's because they were the little sort, and the little sort always wanted to find good fights while being more than eager to switch sides at the wrong moment. Nobody seemed particularly enthused about the state of affairs. If this was going to be his band of brothers, and if they, as a group, were going to do any work for the crazed lord that gathered them together... They were going to need some sort of camaraderie, weren't they? "You've got a mighty healthy appetite, shortstuff," Bjorn grunted to the halfling with a belch, grinning over at the halfling. "And you've got a mighty weapon, too. If you fight like you eat, woe betide our foes, eh?" With a chuckle, the Norsca grabbed at the nearest pitcher of ale and took a solid gulp from it, belching yet again. Then he looked about the table with another sweep of his head. "So, we're all here for this Lord of Guh-cargo's job offer, eh?" Bjorn thought aloud, pausing in his meal and setting his elbows on the table. "This seems a damned motley crew. It might help if there were names to go with these ugly faces, or else I might just call you something we'd all regret!" The huge man slapped his hands into a bowl of water, splashed the stuff over his face, and started to clean his face just so. "My name is Bjorn. They call me bear-blooded, though I can't imagine why." Wrapping a giant hand around a haunch of meat, the Skaeling then tore off a piece, swallowed, and grinned in a friendly manner at his company. "Well?" he grunted. "Spit out your names! I'd rather know who I'll be singing of should any of you die in battle."</s> <|message|>Gobskag Greenteef, also known as Gobskag Da Great (also known as Da Great Gobskag). Pretty much everyone just shouts "GOBLIN!" at him, however. The stained, dusty heap of multicolored fabric had squeezed itself out from under a pile of broken planks, shrieking and scurrying over behind the fur-clad giant on base instinct, darting from one tree-trunk leg to the other as the familiar sign of Dwarven bloodlust glittered in Sketti's eyes and the house manservant crumpled in on himself in growing despair. "Ehhh, phwoar!" it had squeaked, obnoxiously, waving the I AM A MERSENARY stikk like a defensive talisman, "What a, um, terrible accident!" --- Food had a way of enforcing the most uneasy of truces, and so it was that the would-be hirelings now sat around the banquet table as the dust settled, and one or two stubborn chunks of rubble dropped down from the erstwhile balcony above. "See, I was jus' lookin' about fer da boss of da castle," Gobskag was explaining, shrilly, "When I noticed dis, ehhh..." the goblin's beady red eyes shifted between Jan and the Dwarf, "evil-lookin'... one-armed... 'alfling..." he tried, "All lurkin' about, wiv a crossbow an' all like, eyein' the proceedins below. And ehhh, I heard 'im mutterin' like, sayin "I'll get dese gits if iss da last fing I do, cos I 'ate da boss of dis castle an I'm gunna shank anyone what tries ta help 'im!"" Gobskag stuffed a whole potato in his mouth, not even slowing down as he continued his tale and chewed at the same time, potentially goading Biancca to put a musket ball between his eyes and spare her another moment of Etiquette Hell. "Well, bein' of an 'eroic nature, I charged the git, an' fought wiv all da strengf I could musta, which is why I was shoutin', see -- but it were too late! Da platform fing started to break, and he disappeared inna puff of smoke, leavin' me ta fall to my deff! 'Ow was I to know dis castle was so shonky? Fank Mork da damage weren't worse than it was! And that, ehhh, the, ehh, nice... stunty... didn't get krumped." Gobskag tried not to look shifty, unfortunately looking shifty about trying not to look shifty. "You boyz an' ehh... girly-boyz..." he attempted, eyeing Biancca uncertainly, "...can calls me Gobskag da Great, top finga-waggla of da Scarey Face tribe, an' also da Black Bonez tribe. Dey's all dead, mind, but it still counts." Another potato and the top half of a drumstick, bones and all, followed the first into Gobskag's abnormally capacious gob. "Fooo, ehhh.... (chomp, krakk) ..Whem duff we gef paid?"</s>

<|message|>Biancca Del'Arivara Biancca felt the tension ease out of her as the gathering descended into more or less civil discourse. She smiled sunnily at the dwarf. "Mad as a march hare by all reports," she agreed, making no effort to conceal her voice. "Still it is the interrogative of the prosperous to be eccentric..." blank stares greeted her. Elocution clearly wouldn't be a large part of this job, if she agreed to take it. "I mean to say the rich can be crazy if they have the gold," she amended, with a concerted effort to use smaller words. The goblin's ate with a feral enthusiasm that made the half-ling and barbarian look like courtiers. She hadn't served much with greenskins in the past but their evil reputation and unreliability were almost a mercenary by-word. That left the barbarian, the halfling and the dwarf. She wondered how reliable any of them might be. Still she needed the job which meant she needed them. "I am pleased to meet you Bjorn Bearblooded," she declared formally pushing herself to her feet and taking a long swig from her glass of wine. It really was an excellent vintage she decided. She stood with a flourish, pivoting slowly to take in the assembly bowing slightly to the assembled group. "I am Biancca Del'Arivara, I am honored to meet you all," she lied outrageously, "I'm sure our patron will appear in due time and let us know exactly how we can win glory, honor, and most importantly gold in his service."</s>

<|description|>Alexandra the Valkyrie --- Zealot Barbarian 20 Skål!</s> <|message|>Mila Zaseis Mila Zaseis --- "No wait!" Mila called out as the light enveloped their adversary. "Why'd you leave her alive?!" Mila cried at Rygar, fury evident on her face. "Now we won't get a chance to get our answers from her! Tmaf'rz kh la pyilw jiduilz; far zmaf vawz oyir zmy waoz vorv zylvyr oarc ao xe eaar sarp!" The tiefling devolved into Infernal cursing once again before she finally took a breath and looked back at her assumed allies, apparently calm once more. "Right... so, she is not dead. With any luck, we have chased her away to never fight us again. I am not so hopeful, however... a mage like her is bound to have powerful and dangerous allies. Like that assassin..." Mila looked around frantically for a moment, but didn't see him. "I suppose first things should be first, eh? I am Mila, a servant of the Raven Queen and a destroyer of all those who defile the natural order, like that Archbitch. Does anyone know where we are?" If nothing else, the intense focus of her fighting style seemed to dissipate as Mila's conversation shifted from one item to the next. Her gaze bounced between the various people that had joined her in the fight. They had seemed like valiant fighters, what little they had contributed. She couldn't blame the monk for trying to get answers; he likely didn't have lifelong access to magic like she had. Her fingers clutched at a tiny silver cage she held in her component pouch, regret still evident on her face. Further investigation revealed that one of their number was no longer moving after she had teleported closer... and in fact appeared to have turned to stone. Mila stepped forward and placed a hand on the triton's petrified features and sighed. "This magic is far beyond what I can fix. I'm sorry, but her time has come." Just then, the bright light enveloped the statue's form. "Frickin Levistus, can't I just have one moment?!" Thou'rt by no means valiant; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork of a poor worm.</s> <|message|>Rygar Treeguard Rygar Treeguard --- Two swift strikes to the witch and she was down for the count, as the humans in Stoneport would say. His fist eased as he sheathed his shortsword. Then, the flash of light. Rygar's grin was erased as the berate began from his spell slinging ally. He hadn't considered his action valiant so much so as necessary. He wasn't exactly sure the meaning of the worm insult, but figured it meant she thought him weak for sparing the gnome. Though, he had no intention of sparing her. She shouldn't have been able to get away. Rygar was certain she had been rendered unconscious. "Mila." Rygar repeated as his ally introduced herself. It was committed to his memory. He was unfamiliar with the Raven Queen, but he certainly respected her stance on the natural order. It was similar to his own cause. She would be a good ally to have until he could find a way home. He mouthed to introduce himself when her flow of thought apparently moved on. He simply shrugged to her locale question. Another flash. Rygar was getting tired of the abuse to his eyes. Another flash... "The same light as the gnome. Could the warrior be alive as well, then?" He approached the rest of the group; his eyes still transfixed on where their comrade had once stood. She didn't get the opportunity to showcase her talents, but Rygar had sized her up to be a formidable fighter. Same said for the other mighty warrior among them. Mila's assistance in bringing down the witch, not to ignore that foe's talents, taught him not to sell her short, either. Whether these strong women would be appreciated allies or further surprise enemies was yet to be determined.</s>

<|message|>Alexandra the Valkyrie A hollow victory. For the the witch disappeared into the light. A light rather similar to the one that washed over mount and rider. More trickery? The trio emerged from the unicorn's blink mostly unscathed, though it appeared too late. The gnome was already knocked out, and the glory of snapping her spine and crushing her skull went to her defeaters. The demon-kin and the dwarf would have the honor of killing the witch. And yet that too vanished and slipped away. Cheated twice, now as Alex sighed and turned to face the Mer-kin warrior women who was a formidable ally and rival, words began to be uttered upon her lips as a congratulatory pat on the back. Until a strange sensation shocked her fingertips, the scales of a mer-kin were not so rough, but perhaps true the amazon's body was solid. The powerful muscles of her form unmoving, not tense with strength and but stiff like a frozen corpse laid across the battlefield for a few days. There eyes darted back to see Aryn stoned to death. Suspended in the enchantment, encased in the petrified prison, and then without much ceremony a light bathed the aquatic barbarian and all chances of their friendship disappeared with her. A solemn nod at the loss of a comrade. She had not given them a name to be remembered by, nor left a body to belovingly burn on the pyre. May they their souls meet again, "Until Valhalla beckons, Brave Warrior..." But there was no time to mourn the loss of a powerful ally. They still had no idea of where they were or who summoned them all. And now they numbered two fewer, strangers in a strange place. These other three, who were they beyond fighters? Calming her zealous rage, Alex relaxed the divine fervor in favour of seeking out the truth. Patting Adal's flank before leading him towards the group, her spear ready to defend them should they suddenly turn on the horse and rider. "She fought well, and deserves Valhalla. Let there be peace between us for I am no treacherous witch seeking to harm you. I am Alexandra, servant of Valhalla, and this is my shield-brother, Adalwin, we were defending our temple from an assault by a powerful demon until a light appeared. And here we are, if we do not return, I fear our temple will be no more. And I will have failed my duty to protect it..." "If there is no quarrel amongst us, shall we travel together to seek answers to find a way back to our own homes?"</s>

<|description|>Cynthia Arabara Age: 17 Talent: Ultimate Gardener Height/Weight: 5'4 Appearance: Wardrobe: Usually she wears a dirty flower patterned dress with a pair of dungarees over them, along with a pair of boots and leggings. Personality: Cynthia usually comes off as a very quiet and shy girl, always trying to avoid talking to people that scare her in the slightest just because shes scared of them picking fun of her. However, once she opens up to people she can get very personal and ends up asking way too personal things, but it is known she can have a very colourful sense of humour, always using puns when she sees fits or snickering at something she finds funny She also seems to be rather too trusting, seeing as she has hardly any experience in making friends, if she starts to like someone she will cling to them and will be very vulnerable around them. She always wants to help her friends as well, but always adamant that she will accept no such help from them. Likes: Plants, anime, fruit, silence Dislikes: Noise, distractions, idiots, Trivia: Blood type is B Willingness to become a victim : 5</s> <|message|>Liisi Avedarci Liisi Avedarci - Beautiful Rain Waking up to the shrill voice of a tiny stuffed bear was not on Liisi's agenda for the day. That annoying, high-pitched squeak reminded her of nails on a chalkboard, but regrettably, was worse. Lifting herself up off of the floor as the toy spoke, she dusted herself off and stretched, hearing her joints click and crack back into a comfortable place. What said bear was saying seemed to be dire - almost too dark to be true. What kind of academy, no matter how prestigious, locks students in there until they kill each-other? 'I suppose it may just be a prank, or orientation of sorts.' She thought, tightening the bow in her hair as the bear vanished behind the podium. Admittedly, she hadn't been paying full attention, but a few words did register in her mind. Murder, trial, and food. Standing towards the back of the gym, it was difficult to see the faces of the other students, but the girl tried to survey her new 'companions' regardless. She noticed two male students digging their student IDs out of their pockets. One was a very tall boy, who looked quite serious and intimidating, while the other looked slightly older, shorter, and... unkempt. From his messed up hair to his slob-like clothing, Liisi could find no nice way to describe him. 'If everyone has such lack of hygiene, I might actually murder someone.' Swiftly looking around the rest of the room, she took note of those who may or may not be worth her time. There seemed to be quite a wide variety of students, but surely, none of them would actually consider murdering someone. The girl was still unsure whether this entire situation was reality or a prank, but one could never be too careful. Hearing a quiet voice, Liisi looked over in the direction it came from, and noticed that the intimidating-looking male from earlier was tripping over his own tongue. 'How pathetic...'. As she reprimanded herself for thinking something so harsh, she realised that someone had actually responded to the fool. Sighing quietly, she decided to join in. Putting a smile on her face, she took a few short steps towards them, her flats making quiet clicks against the hardwood floor. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance," She started, extending a hand to the engineer. Her light italian accent made small appearances on her vowel sounds, strangely mixing well with her american. "Avedarci, Liisi. I think I've heard of your achievements in New York, engineer." Xavier De La Fontaine - Eau de Vie Whilst taking in the information given by the stuffed bear, Xavier tried piecing everything together. He hated to admit it, but it made sense. Remembering the dizzy feeling as he entered the campus, he put a hand on his forehead and sat himself down on the floor, crossing his legs. It was mildly uncomfortable, but the sick feeling as he processed everything would have probably made him lose breakfast if he stayed standing. Casting his mind back, he remembered hearing rumours of an incident at the Japanese school, although as far as he knew no detailed information had been given. He watched as a small group of people introduced themselves, listening in closely. He wanted, no, needed to find someone to trust. It seemed probable that alliances and friendships would already be forming, and he didn't want to be the only one alone. He wished he didn't accept the invitation, being a collector wasn't really something to be proud of anyway. Oh, how he would love to be wrapped up in his quilts and blankets at home right now, surrounded by his boxes upon boxes of erasers, pens, shopping recipts, bottle caps. Surveying the room, he tried to think of who he could approach, but ultimately settled for staying rooted on the floor. Pulling his student ID out from his pocket, he booted it up, seeing that it included most of the 'vital' information. Name, age, specialty, other such things. He played around with it, seeing that it included a map of the first floor. The male wanted to go and explore, but knew that leaving so quickly could potentially seem shifty, and he didn't want to be alone. Putting his ID back into his pocket, he kept listening to the people around him, and hoping that one might eventually strike up a conversation with him. Part of him also wished that nobody would notice him. After all, if nobody noticed him, nobody would try to kill him, right?</s> <|message|>Kiragi Yoshikazu Kiragi Yoshikazu - Cognitive Dissonance Kiragi's mind was still numb as his eyes managed to open themselves, revealing to the surgeon that this was not the sight he had remembered before blacking out. His last memory was of the school's entrance, but when he tries to continue to think beyond that, it is as if there is nothing to remember. And so he lay there, eyes open, questioning the circumstances before a high pitched voice invaded his ears, forcing him to sit up just to see where it was coming from. And it was certainly a surprising source to him, as it was none other than what appeared to be a stuffed bear, yet it spoke just fine. It was quite the curious subject to Kiragi, and he wondered if it had the same vocal cords as humans do to be able to replicate their speech patterns. But what it was saying was far from ideal for the young surgeon, as it literally suggested that the only way to leave this school was to murder another classmate. He wasn't sure what all the fuss was about though, they had wanted to go to this school in the first place, right? Unless this wasn't a joke, and they were being held hostage... Regardless, he knew no one would actually be willing to attempt a murder with him around. Surely this school had a nurses office of sorts, and if it did, he may be able to stop some attempted killings on the very slim chance that anyone was actually thinking about it. Nonetheless, it at least did provide them with an ID, which supposedly had a map of the massive school. That would definitely come in handy to him if he wanted to find any sort of medical center here, but he almost forgot he was still simply sitting on the ground, getting dirt and dust on his clothes. Stretching his arms first, waiting for the clicking of his bones to signify that they were ready to work properly. He then proceeded to slowly rise up, dusting off his pants and vest of any dust particles that had accumulated on them during his rather unexpected slumber. After finding it at an adequate level of cleanliness, he decided to reach into his left pocket, pulling out the ID he wished to inspect. At least the bear was telling them the truth, as it had his age, name, ID... even the map. And while he wanted to go off and search for some sort of medical area, he almost forgot that he was in the presence of others as well. He turned to the group that had accumulated and started to introduce themselves, deciding he too should join them. He wasn't afraid that they'd be willing to kill him, and so he was rather calm and relaxed as he approached. "Hello!" He said, his calm smile radiating how he didn't perceive them as a threat. "I am Kiragi Yoshikazu, ultimate surgeon from Japan. Let us hope for a different outcome than what Monokuma expects of us, yes?" He told the group, his accent making a very strong appearance as he spoke, making it recognizable that he was indeed Japanese.</s> <|message|>Rose Everfield Rose Everfield - A New Day As soon as I heard that... thing talk, I wished I was back home, studying my lines, daydreaming my way to make it big on the silver screen. God, I just couldn't beleive it. I can't believe it! It must be a joke. I mean, come on, who would do that? I could feel my legs shaking, slightly when I heard his voice after I woke up from the toy's announcement. I looked around to see other students waking up and digging in their pockets for the ID that they were given. I took a deep breath and collected myself before I slipped out my own ID and turned it on. There it was. My name, height, weight, all of the basic information. I noticed a small group of students talking to each other. I walked towards the group and smiled. "Hi! I'm Rose Everfield. The Ultimate Actress... Well, supposed to be that anyways. Um..." I looked at the others, varying in height and talent. "Well, I'd usually say 'How's everybody doing today?', but I guess that's a pretty pointless question now, right?" Taeko Logue - A Lucky Day...? I was sleeping and minding my own buisness until somebody bumped into my chair. I opened one eye and couldn't see the perpetrator, but I instead saw other teens standing around, digging into their pockets, and expressing horror and confusion. What, did a teacher just tell them to shut up or something? Whatever it was, I knew it wouldn't concern me. I was planning to go back to sleep, but curiosity, some anxiety, and the lack of music running through my ears got the best of me. I got up with an exhausted sigh and stretched out my back and arms. I followed the others lead and searched my pockets to discover not my phone, but something else. The heck? I turned it on and the screen lit up with my name, my information, and a few other tabs. I looked around once more and saw kids walking towards each other, iron filliments being drawn by a magnetic force. I also searched for my headphones and phone, with no luck. "Damn it," I whispered. I could feel the anger boiling inside of me and my body expelling heat. I turned to the other kids and let my mouth open. "Ok, who the hell thought it would be funny to take away someone else's crap just cause they didn't get enough sleep, huh?! Who did it?!" The hair stung my face as I sharply whipped my head back and forth. I stood there, alone. Unaware of what the actual problem was that has occured...</s>

<|message|>Cynthia Arabara Cynthia Arabara - Gold Experience Everything had changed. This was a new dawn, a new experience for Cynthia and she was not ready for this big change. She wanted change, she didn't want everything to be normal forever, but this wasn't the change she wanted. Her heart raced, her mind raced. Everything was racing. Her body was on over drive. The smaller green haired girl's eyes darted around as she hesitantly walked into the place where everyone else was. So many people. She wasn't used to this. This was a big change, too much, too much people. She listened, she learned. She understood completely, it made sense somehow, she knew this was what was happening. Now she was ready, she clenched her fists. She shook a little, going to a wall and trying to lean against it, kinda eyes wide and her head staring up at where the bear had just departed. She was scared, that was for sure. You couldn't see it on her face, but she was terrified, she just looked nervous and anxious. But that was a usual. "Oh hello....my name is Cynthia Arabara, the ultimate Gardener, you all seem nice, I'm happy to meet you all..."</s>

<|description|>Jareth Wells NICKNAME: JRock, JarBear(his ex's pet name for him), and just Jar AGE: 23 GENDER: Male APPEARANCE: EX: Clover Clayburn FAVORITE MUSIC: Hardcore/screamo/metal/rock, but he pretty much likes anything except country FAVORITE COLOR: Silver HOBBY(s): plays guitar (among other instruments), DJing, songwriting, partying PERSONALITY: Jareth is a party animal and, despite the grungy exterior, he has quite the soft side. He is incredibly artistically-inclined, but not always the most intelligent person in the room. Ambitious and hardworking, he hopes to chase his passion for music into stardom. TATTOOS/PIERCINGS/OTHER: lip ring offset to the left, small gauges in both ears, various tattoos on arms, chest, and back, as well as one small facial tattoo of just dots. MAJOR IN COLLEGE: Music Performance, junior year OTHER: Jareth came from an unfortunate upbringing, including being bounced around unloving and unsupportive foster homes. After getting kicked out at age 18, Jar worked at a pizza place for two years while playing in his garage band, Crim Son, before starting college. Now that he is in college, he sees a free counselor that helps him get the meds he needs for his depression and anxiety. That being said, he has a bit of a self-medicating drug habit, but it's nothing serious if you ask him.</s> <|message|>Jareth Wells --- Just as Jar was crossing the hall to his room to get dressed, Hunter came through the door. Thankfully he wasn't the bashful type, so Jar didn't blush at his state of undress, not that there was much time to be embarrassed because Hunter began hurling venom at him after slamming the door closed. "You asshole! You fucking asshole!" he bellowed and stormed towards him. "Jesus!" Jar swore to a god he had never believed in as he stepped back and clutched a hand around the towel to keep it up. Was Hunter going to hit him? Sure, Jareth and Hunter had gotten into their fair share of fist fights through the years, but never with each other. Honestly, Jareth didn't even know what he had done, so he just kept backing away from Hunter's advance with a dumbfounded expression. "You knew I had a problem! And what's the first thing you do once we get on this god dammed ship?! YOU FUCKING SERVED FUCKING DRINKS!?" Hunter did all the explaining that Jareth needed. Shit… He thought guiltily. It was true, he did do that. But it's not like he was being malicious, hell, it was fucking vacation for crying out loud. And not for nothing, but it was only a few shots, because he had convinced the waiter to give him virgin drinks without Hunter noticing last night. "I-I'm sorry." Jar stammered out a quick apology. "You're right, that was an asshole thing to do. I wasn't thinking about that, you know how I am." And how was he, exactly... inconsiderate? Selfish? An asshole? He could be all three, sometimes. Hunter continued angrily venting his frustrations. Jareth's cheeks flushed, not a blush, but a response to getting upset. He was about to apologize again when he got really fed up. No, he wasn't supposed to internalize things… it wasn't healthy, that's what Wendy had said. "You know what? Whatever, man. It was just a few shots before dinner. Those drinks you think you had at dinner were alcohol-free. No need to thank me for that, though, asshole! Because you're right, I'm the best scapegoat for your fucking problems, right? No, no, no, I don't think so! Yeah, I gave you a drink, but I was also looking out for you. Whatever you did to fuck up after that is on you, don't put that shit on me." Jareth broke his rant to refill his lungs with air. "Waitwaitwait… hold up." Something that Hunter said was finally just registering in his frazzled mind. "Did you just say Delilah? As in your ex, Delilah? 'So-super-hot-you'll-never-believe-it-Jar-but-no-I-don't-have-any-pictures-to-prove-it', Delilah?" Still pissed, Hunter managed to nod his head in acknowledgement. Actually, he looked less pissed and more sick now. "That's fucking crazy!" Jar mused, "I just ran into Clo too." Saying his pet name for her out loud stung a bit more than it should have. He could hardly remember why he was arguing anymore. "Man… why are we fighting? This is supposed to be the vacation of our lives. I'm sorry things went downhill for you last night. Look, no more alcohol." Jar said before picking up his glass of whiskey and dumping it down the sink. No more alcohol for Hunter, that is. "See? Let's just go get some pizza and waste some time in the arcade or something. Just us, and forget all about exes and drama. Okay?" He flashed a smile, the stupidly perfect white grin serving as a flag of surrender... and an apology. ---</s> <|message|>Delilah Christine Duclerc --- Delilah was peacefully contemplating the open sea when a woman's voice called out "hey" to her, shifting Lila's thoughts back to the present. She turned in the direction of the woman and smiled as her her best friend Clover slipped into the jacuzzi beside her. "Jesus, you always smell so good," Clover commented, flashing Lila a grin as she bumped their feet together playfully under the water. "Hello yourself! Thank you so much! You know I practically drench myself in perfume before going anywhere." Lila greeted and thanked enthusiastically, taking note of how amazing Clo looked in her bathing suit. It was a very pleasant surprise for Lila to see her friend venturing from her usual conservative items and trying out new things, as she knew how hesitant Clo could be about taking risks. Lila was usually very open, honest and vocal about her opinions whenever good or bad, so she quickly went on to compliment Clover's looks. "And, babe, let me tell you that you are slaying with that bathing suit!" Lila could be a bitch, but she always gave praise and credit when it was well-deserved. "I'm astonished that you don't have at least three guys fawning over you right now. Are you losing your touch, Delilah?" Clover teased affectionately. Lila raised her sunglasses to give a mocking scowl towards Clover. "Me? Losing my touch? Oh, please! Do you know who you're talking to?" she replied, playfully splashing water in Clover's direction and sliding her sunglasses back in place with a laugh. "So, what were you up to this morning?" she asked, genuinely curious about what she'd been up to because by the time Lila had woken up, none of the other girls had been at the suite. But before Clover could even begin to formulate an answer to Lila's question, the latter's eyes fell on her best friend's smooth, sleek red hair and she was unable to hold back the giggles. "Oh my God. Tell me you did not actually blow-dry your hair to come hang out at a jacuzzi?!" Lila exclaimed, clearly amused at the sight. She had always been jealous of Clover's hair and skin color (in a good way, of course). It was a dream of hers to be a redhead, but she knew it would clash horribly with her skin tone. And as for Clo's skin tone, Lila thought of it as perfect because pretty much all hair colors would suit her. Lila wasn't making the comment to humiliate or make fun of her in any way, but was instead trying to understand the strange logic that drove Clover to take the time to blow-dry her hair when their trip would mostly be spent on hot and humid places where it would get wet.</s> <|message|>Clover Clayburn --- Clover flushes a little under the other girl's praise, scratching at her nose and giving a soft cough. "Aw, you flatterer. Stop it, I'll turn all one color," the pale girl quips, flicking a little bit of water at Lila. "So, what were you up to this morning?" The brunette asks as she slips her sunglasses back down. Lila's skin almost looks golden in the early afternoon sun and one of the pool boys is openly gawking at her from across the Solarium. 'That's more like it,' the ginger thought. Delilah Duclerc was the kind of girl that lit up any room she entered and she always garnered a lot of attention from men and women alike. "I went to the gym. I'm down to a six minute mile," Clover explains, letting herself relax back into the water. The temperature was perfect and felt splendid against her sore muscles. "Oh my God. Tell me you did not actually blow-dry your hair to come hang out at a jacuzzi?!" "Mmhmm," Clover hums, cracking an eye open and peeking at Lila. "I sure did. And once you hear about my morning, I think you'll agree that it was the right decision." The pale girl straightens back up and turns so that she's facing the younger girl completely. "So I ran into…," she pauses here and glances around quickly, almost like she was checking to make sure no one else was around. Her former boyfriend was a lot like Voldemort, she tried not to speak his name unless she had to. "...Jareth. And he looked perfect, like he was getting ready for a fashion show or something. And I looked like a wet dog. Seriously, I was in my ancient, 'Save the Dolphins!' t-shirt and covered in sweat. My hair wasn't even brushed, I just had it up in a ponytail." Clover makes a mortified groan and she buries her face in her hands, feeling her ears burn at the remembered humiliation from that encounter. She really was all one color now. "So I'm not leaving the suite anymore unless I look my best. I can't face him again unless we're on equal footing," she finishes, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear before letting her hands fall back into the water. "What kind of fresh hell is this, that all of our exes are here? We must have been wretched people in past lives, like the kind that kicked puppies or tripped little old ladies or something."</s> <|message|>Hunter Monroe Hunter Hunter was on the verge of breaking down. Jareth was right, Hunter was looking for a scapegoat for his problems. He always was looking for one no matter how bad things seemed to get. He was also right on the fact that this was supposed to be the vacation of their lives! And so far things just seemed to be getting worse by the minute. Even though he hated the idea of Jareth restricting the idea of his friend restricting himself due to Hunter's problems he felt a sense of relief when Jareth poured the drink down the sink. "Pizza sounds nice man... it sounds really nice." Hunter was barely able to speak. "Uh... Jareth? Look man... sorry for freaking out on you like that... I'm just... just stressed as hell." Hunter want tot eh living area to find his wallet from his pants from the day before. He found it with his shirt that he was wearing the other day as well. Now he was still wondering how he woke up in a shirt that wasn't his, and who's shirt it was. And why was his shirt still here if he changed into a new one? 'Dammit' He thought as he tried to remember. "Reason one hundred and fifty two to stop drinking." He brushed it off and met Jar at the door again. Hunter put a smile on his face. It was forced but he was looking forward to things getting better. "Alright then, let's go have some fun." Hunter started to leave when he remembered something. "Also, I found a picture of Delilah if you're interested? It's somewhere in my wallet full of coupons, receipts, matches, and gift cards with about 30 cents on them. Maybe even a couple dollars." He started to dig through all the random crap in his wallet when he pulled out a cheaply printed picture of his ex studding in the campus library, she was unaware of the picture when it was taken. "Proof! Told you I have the ability to have hot girlfriends." He was still struggling to hold a smile but it wasn't as forced now.</s>

<|message|>Jareth Wells "Pizza sounds nice man… it sounds really nice." Hunter admitted after a few moments of silence. Jareth released a breath he was holding in… good, at least he didn't go for the face punching route. Sure, Jar deserved a good punch for a hell of a lot of reasons, but he wasn't one to just take that kind of thing sitting down. Jareth nodded with a smile "Cool… I, uh--" he looked down at towel that was the only thing between Hunter and all of Jar's nekkid glory. "Just let me get dressed real quick." Jar offered a crooked grin before turning to head to his room to change. "Uh… Jareth? Look man… sorry for freaking out on you like that… I'm just… just stressed as hell." Hunter called out an apology from behind him. Jar paused and looked over his right shoulder, which sported a female sugar skull tattoo design. "Don't worry about it, man. It's bad to keep shit like that bottled in." At least that's what Wendy says… he thinks the last part as closes the distance to his room. After closing the door, Jar retrieves his cell phone and shoots a text to Julius reading: "Hunts and I are heading out to grab some pizza and hit up that Challengers Arcade. You and I got a date with the DDR machine." He finished off the text with a saucy kissing-face emoji and chuckled at his own stupid humor. Jar decided on a black and white tank and skinny jeans before checking himself out in the mirror. His air-drying hair was starting to get a little too fluffy, so he smoothed down the flyaway curls with some water before shrugging. Good enough… Hunter met up with Jar at the doorway. He started rifling for his wallet, and Jar assumed he was just making sure he had cash on him when he mentioned having a picture of Delilah. "Proof! Told you I have the ability to have hot girlfriends." He boasted as he displayed the picture for Jar's viewing pleasure. "Hey now, I never said that you couldn't!" Jar said defensively as he briefly glanced at the picture. She was a bombshell, all right, but Jar thought it would be in poor taste to say such a thing. Plus, he wasn't looking to provoke Hunter much more tonight. Instead, Jar had another idea. He reached into his own back pocket and produced a zippo lighter, because any self-respecting rockstar always carried a lighter on them. And zippos were the classiest of lighters. Jar flicked it open, igniting a small flame. "Here's to new beginnings." he said, gesturing for Hunter to burn the picture. "To forgetting past heartbreak, and attempting to make the most of this overpriced boat ride!" He would say once Hunter decided to go through with burning Delilah's photo. After that, the boys would leave and meet up with Julius at the arcade with a pizzas in hand. Something atrociously meat-packed for the boys, and a smaller veggie delight for Jar.</s>

<|description|>Quinnlash Loughvein R.I.S.C. Dossier --- Age 16 Physical Evaluation Quinnlash is a young woman, five foot three, average build, and slightly underweight. She has very long hair (dark gray streaked with bright yellow) cut into sharp, straight bangs in front, and typically tied into a braid. When tied, it ends at approximately hip height. Untied, it falls nearly to her knees. She has extremely pale skin, unmarked with the exception of scarring around her empty eye socket (right), over which she wears a black and yellow eyepatch. Her remaining eye (left) is brilliant yellow. She has a sharp chin and jawline. Her muscle mass is slightly beneath consistent with regular exercise, and she is somewhat clumsy. She has a tendency to stumble if she isn't watching where she steps. Psychological Profile Quinnlash has some very strange psychological markers that nonetheless make sense when her history is taken into account. She is very much 1) Outgoing 2) Friendly 3) Cheerful and 4) Supportive, as well as 1) Anxious 2) Emotionally volatile 3) Prone to attention-seeking behavior and 4) Highly competitive. In addition, she seems to bear a great deal of attachment issues (for more information, check her background information). Background Information Neither we nor Quinnlash herself know exactly where she was born, but all she can remember is the house she lived in for sixteen years in Hovvi. Specifically, she remembers her own room, as she only left it—without permission, I might add—twice in her life. She was kept completely isolated by her parents, researchers on Modir and modium, and was only aware of what they allowed her to be. The only notable incident throughout her life was, as far as can be told, two or three months after she snuck out into the living room and saw the outside world for the first time. Her right eye spontaneously burst (very likely a result of sudden modium growth) and was subsequently removed. The second time she snuck out was fully, immediately before meeting Besca, which was the first time she actually left her house. She was intimidated and fascinated, and the world seemed to stare at her very strangely. The only known survivor of the Hovvi Incident, she was removed from the town's ruins and taken to the Aerie, where she was subsequently tested for compatibility and given a modioscory to interface with a Savior. There are a number of strange medical anomalies present in Quinnlash's system, such as her bright yellow eye and the hair being naturally yellow. More pressing is the unfeasible level of modium present in her entire system when she was first retrieved post-Hovvi Incident, and the filed and maintained seed growth of modium in place of her missing eye. Interim-Commander Darroh has taken over care of the child's training as a pilot, and should be contacted for any inquiries. Savior --- Designation Ablaze Body Tall and lean, Ablaze is on the thinner side for a Savior. Long scutes of modium not unlike those found on some aquatic organisms run along the arms and legs, forming a sort of natural armmor-weapon combination. The fingers are long and end in sharp claws. At the pilot's request, its right eye has been covered with a thick plate of metal. Weapon Ablaze's weapon, suited to the name, is a cannon as long as long as Ablaze is tall that fires explosive blasts of fire. The mechanism by which it produces this fire is unknown. When phased, the cannon gains a charge mechanism, allowing her to charge a shot for up to five seconds to increase the destructive yield considerably, up to approximately twice the size and intensity of the blast at full charge. In addition, the cannon shots can be detonated on command, or detonation can be delayed as a form of trap.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Dahlia gave Quinn a quizzical look, and Safie burst into another fit of giggles. "You're funny, Quinn, no wonder Besca likes you." "Have as much as you like! We brought plenty," Dahlia said. She glanced over her shoulder to Daz, and something substantial but unspoken passed between them. She took a seat opposite Quinn and Safie, punching her straw through the pouch of juice. "Yeah, but if you take some juice, don't touch the melonberry—Deelie's like a fiend for that stuff." Dahlia's face flushed up to her ears, and she hunched into her pouch. "It's local! Theydontsellitanywhereelse…" Hovvi's lake expanded around them, wide enough that it nearly touched the horizon. The water, while not as clear as the bottle in Quinn's hands, was still sapphiric all the way to the bottom. Gloam painted the surface, cut the waves with sharp light. Far away, the larger ferries carved great wakes that leveled out long before they reached their boat, or the handful of smaller boats scattered around them. Daz pulled them to a stop near the center. Hovvi's shore was a thin, distant crust of lights and the faint humming of music. The cliffs were a rim to one side, and on the other, the elevator superstructure rose into the growing dark. The softlight cage around the platform traveled up until it was a pinpoint cherry dot, and then it blinked out of view. From a panel in the flooring, he retrieved a set of fishing poles and set them upright in metal hoops bolted to the railing. As he fixed their lines with hooks and bait, Safie sprung up to her feet and pranced to the back end of the boat. "Ah, gosh!" She said, peeling off her shoes and dipping her feet into the water. "Deelieeeeeee! I'm so jealous—Queenshand is great but the water there is so murky. If I'd have grown up here I'd never have become a pilot. Quinn! Deelie and I can't give this lake the attention it deserves, so you gotta!" Dahlia perched up on the railing while Daz cast his line out quietly onto the water, where it sank with a little plunk. "Have you lived here awhile?" she asked. "I used to think I knew most of the kids my age, but my memory is, ah, iffy nowadays. I'm really sorry if we met and I'm not remembering, I promise I'm not meaning to be rude."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein "No, no, you aren't being rude at all!" She turned her eye from the seemingly-endless expanse of water that soaked in the dimming light all around her, and nestled down on the bench again, fully engaging with Dahlia. "I've lived here my whole life, mhmm! I just never left my room, so you wouldn't have seen me." She trained her eye heavenward, marveling as stars started to speckle the darkening sky. "You're pilot Dahlia, right? I used to watch you online now and then. I didn't know that you lived here, It really is nice to meet you!" She looked over to the end of the boat where Safie was dawdling her feet in the water. Oh. that did look nice. She popped her own shoes and socks off, then slowly slid down next to her, letting her feet join the older girl's. She breathed a soft sigh. It really was comfy. She pulled her braid over her shoulder and then fell flat on her back, still enjoying the sky. Pictures really couldn't do it justice. And she didn't want to slip into the water. "You said you were a pilot too, right Safie? Is Besca one also?" Another moment passed as the heavens wheeled above her. She reached a hand up from where it lay beside her, absently stroking her hair. "She's the nicest. I'm really glad I finally went outside today." She remembered her doubt looking at the slightly ajar door to her room. What had she been so afraid of? This was so much fun, it felt ridiculous looking back. Her stomach was even starting to feel better. Oh, that reminded her, there was another thing that she wanted to do during her limited time outside. She tilted her head back, bending herself into an arch, until she could see Dahlia. "Dahlia—can I call you Deelie?—could I try the melonberry juice? I've never had it and it sounds delicious!" I'm sorry, Quinny, but you can't have it. Please stop asking. "Not that I want to take it if it's yours!" she added in rapid time, the faintest echo of panic creeping back into her voice as the sunny smile blinked out and she fell to her back again. "I don't want to take your things!" Have some water instead. How's that sound, sweetie?</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. "Ah, a homebody," Safie said. "Deelie's like that, too. She'd wear her PJ's in the cockpit if they'd let her." "It's nice to meet you too," Dahlia said, pointedly ignoring Safie's comment. She smiled, relieved that Quinn recognizing her hadn't devolved into an impromptu fan meeting. The thought made her feel ungrateful but…it was what it was. She preferred the quiet to the interviews and concerts. Lucis and Safie could have those. "You said you were a pilot too, right Safie? Is Besca one also?" Safie shook her head. "Nah. Besca, like—well she does a bunch of stuff, but mainly she just looks after us." "She's like our manager. Takes care of the schedule, monitors the missions. If we have a problem we talk to her, which is totally fine with me cause I don't really like dealing with administration. "Yeah she's great! When I first joined, and I wanted to have Jubilee painted, it was like feeding paperwork into a shredder until I talked to her about it," Safie said. "I mean, it was kinda a dumb ask anyway—do you know how much paint it'd take to cover a whole Savior? And if it gets damaged, like, the paint doesn't grow back so you'd just have to recoat it and—like I said, dumb idea. But she managed to talk them into some designs on the face! Those lines and stuff aren't natural, that's all me baby!" "Still waiting on your ideas for Dragon by the way," Dahlia teased. Her attention shifted down to Quinn, good mood wilting a bit when she saw what looked like genuine fear in the girl's eyes. "Wh—oh! Oh, no, of course! Safie was just joking around, it's totally fine!" She hopped down from the railing and fetched another pouch from the cooler, sliding across the deck to her. "I'm surprised you haven't tried it! They make it right in town. Used to be seasonal but it got so popular people buy it year 'round now. I always take a box or two back with me when I visit." "Some of which goes in the fridge, some of which gets stashed under her bed." "Safie!" More unfettered laughter from the older pilot as she pulled her feet out of the water. "No, it's cute! I used to hide snacks in my hoodies when I went off to sim camps. You do what you gotta do." She picked up one of the poles from the railing. "Hey Quinn! You wanna try fishing? It's super easy. You just reel back, and then when you flick forward you press this lil' button here to release the line."</s>

<|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein A sigh of relief whooshed out of Quinn. Deelie wasn't upset with her after all. She shook away the memory, biting the inside of her cheek. Why had that come up? She didn't really get what the girls were talking about most of the time—or, well, she knew the concepts, but not very much how they all fit together—but she thought she'd gotten enough of a gist to kind of know what was going on as she reached out and grabbed the juice pouch, fumbling with the straw until she could poke it through the top, just like she'd seen online. If she thought the water was sweet, then this was...something else entirely. A different sweet from the cookies, too. It tasted a little bit like the fruit that her parents would sometimes bring her for a special treat, but not quite the same. Sweeter, fresher...could you call a drink crispy? She didn't know, but if you could, then that's what this was. It was crispy. Sweet and fresh and crispy and delicious. She'd never finished a drink so fast, squeezing the pouch because she just couldn't get it in her mouth fast enough. And before she knew it, she'd sucked the whole thing dry. "Oh my gosh! Dah—" She paused, giving her a renewed smile. She was smiling so much today, it felt strange. But good! "—Deelie, that was so good! I've never tasted anything like it!" They were talking about things she didn't know about again—what was a sim camp?—when Safie got up from beside her, picking up a long stick—oh, that was a fishing rod, right? Besca had mentioned fishing too, hadn't she? "Hey Quinn! You wanna try fishing? It's super easy. You just reel back, and then when you flick forward you press this lil' button here to release the line." She got up as well, careful to stay away from the gap in the railings where she and Safie had been sitting a moment ago, and took the fishing rod carefully, looking at it with an inquisitive eye. She'd seen videos of people fishing, but never up close. She swallowed. So all she needed to do to cast was reel up the string, then flick it and press the button? That didn't sound so hard. So, with an unsteady hand and a grip that was all wrong, she slowly reeled it in until the bobber was right by the tip. Now I just— She whipped it back, then forward, and pressed on the button. The lure soared forward and almost out of sight, falling into the water after its brief flight with a satisfying plopping sound. She looked back and forth at the other rods propped up against the railing, putting hers with them, then turned back at Safie, face positively alight, before she darted over—she was finding her balance a little better, she thought—and took hold of the bottle of water again, sipping it with unrepentant joy and triumph. It was getting a little harder to see, and she couldn't quite tell how far away she was from the others, and she looked around with open and blatant wonderment. So this was what it was like to be outside at twilight. Right then and there, she decided: Twilight was definitely her favorite.</s>

<|description|>Dianna Lear Alias Black Magic Age 16 Gender Female Appearance Dianna has short red hair that frames her face, always parted neatly to the side of her head. She has almond eyes, an icy shade of blue making up her irises. On her pale skin, she has a smattering of freckles. Her lips are a naturally sheer shade of pink, and her cheeks appear to have a slight blush. She stands at a graceful five feet ten inches, with legs that go on for miles. She has an athletic build, strong arms and legs that show how dedicated she is to gymnastics and running. Although she does prefer athleticism, she is usually seen in business casual clothes that suit her well for a teenager. Personality Impish, Dark Sense of Humor, Loyal, Dedicated. Powers Magick- Dianna is able to use both offensive and defensive magic, though she prefers offensive. * Transmutation: Through transmutation, Dianna can take something and turn it into something else. She's known for making a joke out of things: a dagger into a bouquet of fresh flowers, a bullet into a flock of doves, she made the news for a week when she turned a lizard into a tyrannosaurus rex which caused the slaughter of many police officers. She is usually seen taking her cat, Ms. Muffins, and transforming her into a menagerie of different animals and tools. The spell lasts until broken by Dianna, which isn't common. * Curses: With a few empowered Latin words, Dianna can curse others. She has been seen cursing others with simple things like a weak ankle, or deadly things such as diseases. She can also use these hexes to cause mental despair and insanity. Depending on the strength of her victim, the curses can last from five minutes to a lifetime. * Potions: Dianna is a skilled potion crafter. She can make anything from love potions, to potions that excrete toxic fumes. These potions usually require tricky ingredients, but she does have the necessary ones in her base. * Energy Shields/Domes: The name says it all. Dianna can make energy domes around her, or flat circular shields in front of her. The larger the shield, the weaker it will be, and the more concentration it will require to uphold. If Dianna plans to take a group into her dome, she will probably end up with a hideous migraine, if she doesn't fall unconscious of course. The shields can withhold blasts from medium sized explosives, projectiles, and sharp/blunt weapons. They will strain under too much pressure though, cracking until they break. Skills Sleight of Hand- Dianna is an excellent thief, without the usage of her magic she can probably strip someone down to their knickers without them knowing any better. Stage Magic- To keep with the magician motif, Dianna has aced many card tricks. She can pull a rabbit out of a hat, throw daggers blindfolded. If you've seen it on a stage, she can recreate it. Not the most practical of skills, but it gets a good laugh. Gymnastics/Athleticism: Dianna is a skilled gymnast, she is also skilled at running. She has a tank that almost never runs empty, allowing her to outrun most of her foes. Skilled Swordsman: Dianna is a gifted swordsman, having been taught by the Wise One himself. She is also good with most blades, such as throwing knives, daggers, and anything with a pointy end. Equipment A Bandolier: instead of bullets she has small servings of all her favorite potions. * Sleeping Potion: When thrown on the ground, the potion will shatter and create a gas that will knock most people out. The gas can get through most spaces, so covering one's face with a t-shirt will only work for so long. * Healing Potion: Once drunk, this potion will heal minor wounds. It can also lessen the blood flow of some major wounds. * Curse Removal: In case a cursed person can still be useful, Dianna carries servings of her own special concoction that removes any curses she has placed on someone. It restores them back to their original state, whatever that was. Throwing Daggers: As much as she likes to think so, magic doesn't solve every problem. At each hip she carries a sheathe of four throwing knives. Two of which are tipped with poison, for those special moments. Ms. Muffins II: Sadly, the first Ms. Muffins died in a firefight. Now, Dianna carries Ms. Muffins II. Much like her predecessor, Ms. Muffins II is used mainly as a device for Transmutation, if she doesn't have a hostage on hand. She's also used for good times and snuggles! Short Bio Dianna's beginnings started with the Wise One. The Wise One was a hero turned villain after a few complications with the law. He hid away, only coming out to cause a horrific scene once a year on the Fourth of July. Finally, the hideous massacres ended. They just stopped one year, things ran smoothly. This was because he had found a new Apprentice. The Wise One always had a soft spot for children, and his past lover had moved on and given birth to a beautiful red haired baby. The child was the spitting image of her mother, and carried the abilities needed to be a good witch. So, her teachings began. For every spell, the Wise One planted a bit of his own essence into her. He began aging, after a while. On the day her training was completed, he finally died. Dianna was still small, a ten year old with a cat and the power to kill. She took after her Master, her first attack was on July Fourth, an homage to him before she became her own villain. Now, she's known throughout the world as a killer, a villian. She couldn't be happier. Other N/A</s> <|message|>Ed Rosario Ed ducked for a second because the explosion actually started him "Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed. Looking up from where he was Ed saw Phone Freak charge in with some monster thing. He got up and ran to the front entrance running past Phone Freak and to the front desk hopping over the counter and dropping his bags to the ground. Ed smirked when he saw Phone Freak fail at controlling the people, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. Reaching inside one of the duffel bags he pulled out a UMP45 loaded a fresh clip in and shot a few rounds into the air as well. "Dies ist ein Raub! Jeder bleiben ruhig wir wollen Ihr Geld nicht Ihr Leben! Bleiben Sie auf dem Boden und niemand wird verletzt!"("This is a robbery! Everyone remain calm we want your money not your lives! Stay on the ground and no one gets hurts!") he shouted over all the screaming. To his surprise it actually worked except for a few stragglers who made it to the outside. This wasn't his first time robbing in German so Ed obviously knew how to take control. Sadly he doesn't know much else for German besides that line and a few things the police would say. "Hey Phone Freak might want to take cover because when the cops show up somethings telling me that bomb scare is gonna be bringing some more than the usual." he told his teammate hoping she would do what he said. Ed proceeded to take out more guns and lay them out at his disposal of course each of them were loaded and ready. "Now we wait..."</s> <|message|>Samantha Park (Maverick) Maverick's heart dropped into her stomach when the explosion went off. She hesitated for a moment, and covered up her ears when Phone Freak summoned that awful behemoth. Her eyes widened, and her adrenaline started rushing. She unzipped her hoodie and reaches for an inner pocket. She grabbed the handle of a pistol, and pulled it out. She pulled back the slide to confirm that it was loaded. When she reached for something else inside her hoodie, this time it was a small cylindrical device. She kept it in her right hand. Luckily enough, Phone Freak's monster didn't instantly murder the police officer. "Everybody stay cool!" She shouted over the chaos. This was directed towards the more aggressive members of their team. Specifically Blood Fang. "Don't fucking kill everyone," She said hoarsely, looking over with wide eyes at Loud Love, Metallica, and Blood Fang. There was pleading in her voice. She walked over to a nearby civilian who was frozen in place. Focusing, Maverick's hand tingled. With a small shove, she sent the man skidding across the well polished floors and he ended up sitting against a far wall. "Down!" She gestured to the ground with her pistol. The man nodded and the other civvies got down as well. She looked to her team to see what they should do with these innocent bank-goers.</s> <|message|>Birth: Sophie Engebretsen Sophia heard the announcement that they would have three minutes, then they would have to rush a bank. On one hand, her conscious mind balked - frontal assault? With their forces? On another hand, her subconscious, staying ever-true to its practical streak, went about its way preparing her for the shit to go down, utterly disregarding civilians: One. Her hands dive into her pocket and fix her braided hair to her head with a small clip, safely out of the way. Two. She pulls at the strings on the straps of her backpack, and it unfolds, transforming into her equipment vest and revealing the back-mounted storage unit underneath. Three. She fixes the clasps and adjusts the straps on her vest. Four. Out of the duffel bag come her (currently looking like some high-tech tubes) forearm tool mounts and gloves, which she quickly drops over her hands and presses the unremarkable black buttons near her elbows. With hissing sound they compress, fitting over her hands skin-tight. Five. Out of the same duffel bag comes her belt with several streamlined containers, which she promptly clasped around her waist and connected some of the boxes to the back unit. Next come two sheathes - one with the long knife with pommel engraved with some sort of symbols, other with the futuristic-looking device resembling both blasters from the movies and a nail gun. Both were placed on the belt, with the "gun" being connected to the belt unit. Six. She took out her mask and placed it over her face, letting holding clasps to safely hug her head and watching the boot sequence on her HUD-glasses inside. She continued her suit-up sequence while watching the run-down of the diagnostics. Seven. With a series of clicks, she methodically took out of the duffel bag and affixed on her vest series of small containers and capsules looking like they were produced from the same form of lightweight polymer that consisted its internal plating, filling out her inventory. Eight. She took out thin tubes from the unit behind her back, each of which ended in a needle and carefully threaded them through specially-prepared hidden ports, inserting them in the blood vessels in her back and then covering them under armour plating. The contraption gently hummed, pumping clear liquid into her veins. Nine. She gritted her teeth, trying to prepare for what's coming, but still winced when she pressed hidden pressure points on her chin, angrily hissing in pain. Her breathing became faster, world around her becoming a little bit slower while her body suddenly thrummed with released energy. Ten. She let her braid down and slid back the armoured cap connected to her mask, covering her head and finishing her preparations. All said and done, it took her just under three minutes - careful design and, perhaps more importantly, drills in putting it on paid off. After explosion she briefly considered gassing or shooting civilians fleeing the scene to create an additional barrier for the arriving law-enforcement forces, but decided against it: in doing so she would alert any law-enforcement arriving about necessity of NCB countermeasures; and she frankly did not see the point in harassing civilians if that was not the most expedient course of action. As such, she simply ran after her teammates, detaching her dispensing unit from her belt on the run and booting up the smartsight on it. Once inside and away from the front doors, though, she quickly measured the situation and for a moment stood still, deciding what to do next. Then the evacuation plan caught her eye. She memorized it and looked to her teammates, speaking through the comms: -- First. We're going to wait for justice forces right here, in the lobby? Second. Anyone wants to sweep the floor for stragglers so we won't get hit in the back by security? Third. Someone's planning to use people here as shields?</s>

<|message|>Dianna Lear Dianna frowned, why did team one get to have all the fun? She doubted the others would let her do anything other than paralyze, and that had to have been the worst assignment so far. She didn't seem fazed by the explosion, she had heard worse. The screams of innocents didn't bother her, the only thing that really interested her was Phone Freak's little summon. She watched with slight interest as it charged through the glass panes of the bank. They were unorganized, no clear leader or direction. Everyone just charged. It was kind of cute. Dianna took her time, in the midst of the panic and confusion she waved her hand over her clothes. They transformed into a magicians costume, every detail perfect from the top hat to the coat tail. Her bandolier stretched out across her costume, potions glittering with magical essence. The hilts of her daggers stuck out menacingly from their sheathes. She wore a half mask, similar to that of The Phantom of the Opera. She strutted into the bank, where hostages were pressed up against the walls and most security guards had been dealt with. There were other floors of course, and they would have to make sure those were handled. "How chipper!" She stated merrily, clapping her hands together. "I plan on using the hostages as shields. Very effective, even though I don't necessarily need it." Her finger moved over them, as if to choose a subject from the crowd. Instead of picking right away, she took off the ring that was Ms. Muffins II and tossed it onto the ground. Before it could roll away, she pointed at it and muttered in Latin. Out popped the cute -albeit confused- Ms. Muffins II. No one had time to let their guards down and watch her stretch and mewl, because moments after her intial transformation, Ms. Muffins II took another shape. This time it was the form of a female lion. She prowled around the room, getting in people's faces, batting at them with her giant paws, and causing them to scream and press against the wall. Black Magic found the act endearing, she was learning well. "Sawbones is right about covering our bases. Who wants to come scope out the upper floors with me? We need to secure the building while our friends get the gold. Then we can have our fun." She giggled, looking around the room for any takers. If she could choose, she would have picked Phone Freak. She wanted to show that girl what real magic was. If not her than Ed, he worked well with a gun. Anyone that wouldn't spout some nonsense about the lives of a civilian was a perfect choice.</s>

<|description|>Sophon Phy Age: 19 Appearance: Standing at 5 Feet, 1 Inches tall, Sophon is considered a fairly short person. However this doesn't bring her down, quite the opposite. She theorizes that her small stature will give her an advantage in hand to hand combat, however she hasn't been given the opportunity to test that theory. Her hair is voluminous, ashen grey and goes down to her mid-back. She used to have jet black hair, like most people in the Asian lands, but after 「awakening」 her hair has lightened into a grey. She doesn't mind that much. She often keeps it back with a wide white hairband. Her typical attire is conservative, wearing clothes of a slightly baggier style, concealing her figure. She believes herself to be unattractive because she is on the leaner side, and her body is well toned, revealing her well trained muscles. She goes with a less revealing style because of that. Her left arm was cut off just above the elbow, leaving a stump. She leaves the sleeve pinned up with a safety pin. Whenever she activates her 「seed」, the plant matter begins at her shoulder and grows downwards, leaving the stump and creating a new arm. Just above the middle of her sternum is a perfect teardrop shaped birthmark. Despite never having been born with it. It is reminiscent of a seed. History: Born in a small third world country in South East Asia, her life was normal for the area. Being the eldest in a family full of daughters, her father decided that she would be the family leader after he passed. He taught her the things his father taught him. How to farm, how to defend herself, how to know fix the house, and so on. Recently a military general overthrew the government in a coup, setting himself up as a dictator. Several months passed as Sophons village was being overtaxed, when finally a group of soldiers arrived and began to take whatever they wanted, and whomever they wanted. The village decided enough was enough. A small group of volunteers would distract the soldiers and the rest of the villagers would flee to a neighboring country. The plan went wrong, and the soldiers began to destroy property. It quickly became violent, and the plan was hastily executed. Sophon attempted to flee with the running group, but she was caught by a soldier. Remembering what she had learned from her father, she surprisingly attacked the soldier and made him lose his grip. Only running a few steps before another tackled her. As punishment, she was beat and her left arm was cut off by a machete. The group of soldiers left not long after, leaving her to bleed out and die. As she was unconscious, she had a vision of Buddha in the clouds. He picked a seed from a heavenly tree that he was sitting under and placed it in her soul. Elsewhere, a wandering Wizard was venturing through the dense jungles searching for a specific herb, when he came across the burnt and ruined village. He hurriedly ran into the village grounds searching for survivors, finding only one. Sophon, who had scores of medicinal herbs and local grasses growing where her body lay, in the midst of scorched ground. With the herbs so readily available, the Wizard was able to stabilize her and mend her wounds. Although she still was missing her left arm. Having never seen this kind of magic before, the Wizard took Sophon under his wing as her apprentice as they traveled the world. Before long, they were able to contact her family who had escaped with the other villagers to a neighboring country. She vowed to become stronger with her new found abilities to overthrow the dictator. After a little more than a year, the Wizard enrolled her in a school called Magicana. Confused, she accepted. The Wizard explained that he had a quest to do, alone. In the mean time, she would be learning at Magicana. Tuition, books, and supplies all paid for. Dream/Goals: Become more proficient with her magic. To overthrow a small time dictator and liberate her home country. Magic: The Seed of Life - Sophon has the ability to create and manipulate plant life. It is an activated magic, requiring her to concentrate and draw power from her 「seed」. The plants she summons and manipulates are only active when the seed is active, otherwise the plants wither away and turn into dust. She understands this as forcing them into creation, and without concentration, they are forced into death. Whenever she activates her 「seed」, a small bright green glow is visible on her chest. It comes from a bright green gem that appears just a millimeter from her skin. The gem is not movable, and glows bright enough to be visible through clothing. As of right now she is Unskilled in her magic. At most in a controlled environment she can create a tree, patches of grass, flowers, herbs, etc. With an exception of The Druids Armor. She currently knows one active spell. The Druids Armor - Intermediate Spell. A spell she and The Wizard developed together, mostly the Wizard though. Devised as a means of protecting herself from physical harm. While she knows she can improve on the armor, such as using an Ironwood instead of normal wood to increase durability and strength, she doesn't have the skill yet to summon and shape Ironwood. She is proficient with using The Druids Armor. She currently knows one passive spell. Whenever she activates her magic, an arm of plant matter is created in place of her missing arm. >Update 11/2/15 - Added appearance in text, visible appearance of her Magic and some flavory effects to existing text. Changed some code.</s> <|message|>Megan Starling "Megan Starling. And you're as tall as Atticus. Perfect" A grin slowly crept across Megan's face. It looked like she was hatching some sort of evil plan. Really evil. She moved to stand in front of Mateiu. "And your name? Or must I just call you giant sunshine?" She looked up at him slightly. If I can get this guy on my side, then I'll have two of the tallest kids in this whole goddamn school on my side. Megan thought as she waited for his reply.</s> <|message|>Mateiu "Titan" Lockhart Mateiu shrugged off Loki's response and snorted once more as he prepared to fire back with a rebuttal. before he got the chance to do so Megan stepped in and introduced herself, as well as mentioned that happened to be as tall as someone else she knew. Mateiu was a tad put off by the look the smaller girl had on her face but he did his best not to let it show, "Mateiu Lockhart. Who's Atticus and why do you suddenly look like you wanna push someone off a cliff?".</s> <|message|>Megan Starling "He's someone. Hrs just in the test rooms right now. Also I'd much rather prefer to burn someone than push them off a cliff." Megan's grin quickly vanished. She crossed her arms and continued to look up at the much taller teen, even though she herself was no shorty either. She was actually kinda tall at about 5"9. Megan frowned slightly. "How long is he gonna a take..." She murmured to herself</s> <|message|>Loki *Loki snaps his attention to her* His hands going out of his pockets* "That is not funny" *His tone takes on a serious note. To him fire is terrifying, in fact if anything near him was to light up fear would take over. Fear with him usually needed up with him shifting into the first form he thinks of and doing all he can to escape. Even, if it means he attacks something in his way. His fire phobia is something he has been working on for a long time with no real improvements.*</s> <|message|>Megan Starling Megan blinked slightly at Loki's reaction. "I won't torch you. You're an ally. Or if you'd prefer...friend?" She attempted a friendly smile and failed. Miserably so. She waited for Loki's reply then looked away. "This place is too crowded. I don't like it..." She spoke, trying to get a conversation going. Easier said than done with Megan. She didn't like crowds nor talking nor most people. She'd rather be reading or burning stuff right now. Not standing in a crowd and actually TALKING to people.</s> <|message|>Loki *Loki grumbles he too would rather be anywhere else then here. He felt claustrophobic with all the people.* "I really don't care what you call me" *He then hears her comment on it being crowded and nods* "I hate being in crowded areas as well *He sighs heavily and looks up at an intercom as if trying to will it to say his name, he can't of course, but still.*</s> <|message|>Megan Starling "I wish I was home. It's a lot quieter. Well except when my grandma decides to play her 'classical' music as loudly as the gramophone will allow her too." Megan giggled slightly but quickly smothered the noise. God this is starting to get awkward. Where's a friggin distraction when you need one?!? She thought while looking around. She needed to get out. With or without Atticus. It didn't matter to her.</s> <|message|>Atticus Haywood Atticus listened intently to the explanation the examiner gave of what his magic did exactly. "So...I can shake things and make sounds. That's...err...not exactly what I expected. But hey, that's still brilliant! I could be a one-man band!" he said excitedly, looking on the bright side of at least HAVING a specialty. Even if it wasn't "The kind of magic where I can make it rain money and then use the money to buy a house" kind of magic. Vibrations were cool. Proceeding with the next step, he started seeing what sort of path his future could lead to...looked like construction work. Sighing disappointingly, he just sorta...slumped over. It was work at least so...that was fine. If he could afford a place to live and food, even better. Not letting it get him too down, he proceeded to the medical examination part. A couple of surprised yelps and syringes, Atticus was cleared with a clean bill of health. Besides being malnourished by a margin, he was in decent health. Identified as A- with his blood type, he was pretty sure that was good. A's were good in school, right? Walking out with a bandage on his right upper arm, he quickly spotted Megan and Loki and smiled, quickly making his way back over. "So, Megan, how'd your testing go?" he asked with a great amount of care, really wanting to know if someone else got something cool. Maybe if someone got that money magic he could ask them nicely for some. Or not.</s> <|message|>Megan Starling "Horrible. Let's get out of this fricking crowd." Megan grabbed Atticus's forearm and attempted dragging him out after waving bye to Loki and Mateiu. Of course she failed in pulling Atticus along and fell onto her face. Oh god. Now everyone will give me really weird looks now. she thought while struggling to her feet, trying to hide her embarrassment. Which really didn't work as a light red started to cover her cheeks. Megan started to panic as people began looking towards her. She ran out as fast as she could, knocking people over as she did so, but she didn't care. She just needed to be outside away from staring eyes.</s>

<|message|>Sophon Phy "Sophon Phy, please report to room C for testing. Sophon Phy to room C." A voice announced. Sophon, who was just wandering with nothing much else to do arrived at the large wooden door almost immediately. The door slowly opened, revealing a dimly lit stone room. A large white fur rug was on the floor, she didn't recognize the species that the rug came from. It was too large to be any furry animal on earth, and when she stepped on it, none of the dirt or dust dirtied the rug. On the other end of the room was a large wood desk, covered in books and glowing gems of various colors. The edges were emblazoned with silver and the sides were engraved with epic battles between men and... Demons? "Oh! That was quick, my apologies!" A voice spoke up from the desk, Sophon peered over the book as she approached the desk. A yellow robed person stood up and snapped their fingers. The torches in the room brightened, lighting up the room much more. "I was reading, very interesting book." "I thought you needed light for books?" Sophon replied, "Ah. Not this one. The hieroglyphs glow..." Yellow Robe explained, their voice trailed off towards the end, "Your arm?" "Just a little accident." She shrugged, "Will you be okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine. What will we be doing today then?" Sophon asked, changing the subject quickly, "Right!" Yellow Robe exclaimed, they looked down and picked up a translucent sphere from somewhere on the desk. Yellow Robe placed it on top of a book in front of Sophon. "Place your hand on the orb, and we will determine your magic!" "I already know my magic." Sophon plainly said. "Eh?" When Yellow Robe looked up at the young student, a bright green light was seen on her chest, and where her missing arm was there was now a green hand. Sophon pulled up the sleeve, revealing that the whole arm was made of the green plantmatter. Several leaves stuck out from visible forearm. She held up her plant arm and wiggled the fingers, then making a thumbs up. The orb pulsed once and lifted itself from book, now levitated a few inches from the desk. "Amazing..." Yellow Robe cleared their throat, "Anyways, put your hand on the orb. We'll see if there's any more to your magic. We will also see your future." Sophon complied and cupped the orb from below with her plant arm, holding it up to her face. She carefully peered inside of it. She saw white plains as far as the eye could see, nothingness beyond. The cloudless blue sky, and a blazing red sun. Then time sped up, the sun and moon flying by at speed. Occasionally there would be rain, then the water would dry up again. Salt flats. A place where life is rare, and water is rarer. Then she heard footsteps, and saw the shadow of a bipedal figure. From her vision, an arm made of plant and wood extended out. The process taking days. A handwave later, a small patch of grass grew. Then flowers. Then trees. She saw insects crawling on the newly formed soil, and animals running on the branches of the now massive trees. Then night came, and time slowed. In the darkness of the forest, she saw black shadowy figures come out of hiding behind the trees, their eyes glowing a familiar bright green. They all raised their left arms. Then she was taken out of the vision. Sophon looked at Yellow Robe, "What was that? At the end, who were they?" Yellow Robe rubbed their chin in thought, "Hm... I'm not quite sure. Denizens of the Forest, although I am not sure which. And they all appeared to greet you as one of their own. I'll look into this. Now, your future?" Sophon held up the sphere again and looked once more into it, this time she saw only a glimpse. It was her, sitting in a small grove of trees, meditating. She sighed, that wasn't much of a future, she did that all the time. "Meditation?" Yellow Robe asked, "I do that a lot." "I see. The final step is to go through that door and get a medical check up, then you're all done!" Yellow Robe explained. Sophon placed the orb back down on the desk and left for the check up. It was quick, Sophon not paying much attention to it. She was thinking about the orbs visions. After getting a clean bill of health, she concluded that she had to meditate. She made a beeline to the outdoors and walked towards a nearby tree and sat under it, sitting in the half lotus position.</s>

<|description|>Niah Bautista Niah Bautista Character Quote: Do you so swear? --- --- Character Summary Aliases: Oath Keeper Age: 14 Birthday: Oct. 3, 2003 Ethnicity: Filipino Birth Place: Manila, Philippines Godly Parent: Styx Legacy: Styx Cohort: 2nd Cohort How Many Years At Camp Jupiter: 2 Gender: Female Rank: Centrion Occupation At Camp: Oath Binder (If someone needs to swear an Oath they usually do it in front of Niah) Languages: English, Tagalog, Latin --- --- Appearance Height: 5'2" Weight: 130lbs Body Type: Petit Eye Color: Golden brown Hair Color: Brown Skin Tone: Soft brown, naturally tanned Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Ears pierced, SPQR with two lines, Cohort symbol Personal Style: Niah is sensitive to a lot of materials so she is picky with what she wears. She however does like the traditional Roman clothing and wears it a bit more often than most. If she is not wearing traditional clothing she wears jeans and t-shirts, or sundresses. She leans toward blue colors. She wears a light amount of make-up most days and has her hair down or back in a braid. She is growing her hair longer and hasn't cut it since she joined Camp Jupiter. --- --- Psychology Energetic * Picky * Friendly * Competitive * Observant * Pedantic Sexuality: Demisexual (though she can appreciate the aesthetics of someone she doesn't know) Relationship Status: Single Personality: Niah is fast to form opinions about people, and doesn't usually change that opinion. It doesn't help that she can tell if someone has ever broken an Oath, no matter how minor. It is amazing how disappointed you can be when you realize how often people fail to keep them. She has, because of that, made it a point to not make Oaths she can't keep. Fatal Flaw: Personal loyalty Habits: Chewing her lip Hobbies: Reading, planning practice battles Fears: * Being forced to break an Oath, or being unable to keep it * Riding a motorcycle (she saw a terrible accident once as a child and it is seared into her brain) * Her sister being found dead...or worse Likes: * Her cohort * War games * Learning new things (Niah wants to attend an actual college, not the one at Camp) * Traveling * Reading * Horse back riding Dislikes: * Oathbreakers (She loathes them) * Bad/bitter food * Itchy clothing * Birds (stupid nest outside her childhood bedroom window woke her up too early) * Apples * Bad movie remakes of good movies * Fauns --- --- Skills Demigod Abilities: * Oaths (Niah inherently knows if someone has made an oath and if they've ever broken one) * Odikinesis General Skills: * First aid * Law * Botony * Horseback riding * Conflict management * Roman Mythology Combat Skills: * Short sword * Siege engine * Military tactics * Use of Odikinesis to distract or demoralize enemies Magic Item: * Vial with a bit of River Styx in it (given to her the one time she met her mother) * Imperial gold short sword, sits invisibly on her back What Do They Carry On Them: * Clothing - A light summer dress, and sandals. * Purse/Wallet - about $30 in USD, and 20 Denarius coins * Backpack * Current reading book * A notebook (with some sketches and notes) * A pen * spare hair tie * Advil * Chapstick * A bottle of nectar * * Possessions In Bunk: * Spare clothes * A secondary, non-magical weapon * A photo of her family (Sister, brother, father, and stepmom) * A trophy from a fight that she had on her way to camp * An extra blanket * A reading flashlight * Her next few books that she plans to read * Lotion * * * --- --- History Biography Niah was born in the Philipines. Her father already had a daughter, Dalisay. He never spoke about her mother, or Niah's. Niah knew something was odd about herself though. She could tell when someone had made an Oath, and more importantly when they had broken that oath. Her first memory was realizing someone her father trusted had broken an oath. Niah argued with her father saying the man was untrustworthy. Imagine a two-year-old telling you someone you trusted was untrustworthy. Her father didn't take it well and he put Niah into a time out. While she was in the time out her sister tried to cheer her up by showing Niah her own magic. Neither realized how different they really were from the rest of the world because they had each other. A few months after the fight the man betrayed their father and he apologized to Niah. The two became close after that. Their father married, and they had a son. Niah liked her step-mother because she had never broken an Oath. Things were normal in their home that was until Dalisay disappeared one day when Niah was 12. Her father at that point explained that Niah was the daughter of a goddess and it was time for her to attend a special school in America. He gave her a letter from Niah's mother, the goddess of Oaths. With that making sense, Niah went to America. Her father had given her little direction, but it was through a series of incidences that Niah ended up at the Wolf House. Lupa put her through the usual testing and sent her to Camp Jupiter. How Long Have They Been At Camp Jupiter: Niah had a hard time moving up from Probatio, while she had good lineage she was not the best at fighting and ended up earning her rank as Legionnaire by performing a great deed about three months before her first year was up. She was good at tactics and made a small name for herself in the games with that skill. She quickly became known as the Oath Keeper and was usually told to be present when someone was about to leave for a mission. Niah started witnessing all Oaths, it helped people remember how important the oaths were putting a face to it. With the new title of Oath Binder, she was also promoted to Centurion, it helped keep the lines of who was in charge better. Niah wasn't particularly excited about the change and for the most part deferres to her counterpart in the 2nd cohort. --- --- Additional Information Theme Song: Promises I can't Keep - Mike Shinoda Extra Information: See Andy's cs 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|>Nancy Amelia Parker --- --- ☀️ Nancy Parker ☀️ --- Location: Medford, Oregon - Amtrak -> Jack in the Box Skills: N/A --- --- Nancy relaxed ever so slightly as her friends rejoined her. She wasn't going to admit that the prospect of fighting off a group of monsters disguised as burly monsters had terrified her slightly. "Any idea which kind?" she asked her friends softly. Her stomach growled. She really wanted to just get some food and head back onto the train. At least her worst fear was far less likely to happen with Niah and Mads around. "I got $26, I'll order us three combo meals," she told them. Maybe they'd be lucky and the bikers would ignore them. They had made it into the Jack in the Box without getting hurt. She walked up to the counter, placing an order. "Three large 10 piece chicken nugget combos, please," she said. She handed over the money, tapping her foot nervously. The cashier gave her back her change and three soda fountain cups. She took out a cup, handing one to Niah and one to Madalyne. "Hopefully our order is out soon..." Nancy murmured, moving off to the side. She kept one eye on the bikers, ready for them to jump into action, as she went over and filled up her cup with Dr. Pepper, Coke, and Root Beer - a Nancy special.</s> <|message|>Niah Bautista --- --- Niah Bautista --- --- Location: Amtrak platform (Medford, Oregon) -> Jack-in-the-box Skills: Roman Mythology & Odikinesis --- "Thanks for getting food." Niah said after Nancy ordered. There was a lot more in the thanks than just the appreciation for Nancy ordering the food. It was clear Niah was thanking her for all the unsaid things. That led to getting the food too. Anger rolled off the bikers and Niah had a pretty good idea of what they might be. "You wouldn't happen to have a silvered weapon on you by chance?" She glanced at Nancy, it was mostly her answer for what the monsters were without saying their name. Her stomach growled. Niah was hungry. Waiting for the food would probably take too long. Niah took a cup and filled it with just Dr. Pepper. She turned to face the werewolves and tried to focus on them and make them as calm as possible. Maybe there was something about her hunger that made it flip on her. She could feel the anger in the bikers rise. "Oh, oops. I'm sorry." She glanced at her friends, her hand tightening around her sword hilt. Things were about to get interesting.</s> <|message|>Madalyne Lilian Crane --- --- Madalyne Crane Location: Medford, Oregon, Amtrak Station -> Jack in the Box Skills: N/A --- --- Madalyne looked at Niah for a moment when she mentioned something about silver weapons made her gulp slightly, werewolves were pretty special since neither celestial bronze or imperial gold weapons killed werewolves. "That's going to make things a little bit interesting.." Madalyne said softly back to the two of them, she wants sure if she could conjure up any kind of silver weapons for them either. She hadn't tried anything like that at all. Madalyne went over to grab herself a coke from the fountain machine, and then a little bit of sprite added in as well. Seeing their gaze on them they looked really pissed off right now, though one of them looked to be their leader who still looked mad but also calm or something as well. "Just grab our food and leave." Madalyne told her friends, when their order was called up Madalyne quickly grabbed their food, and started to make her way towards the door, and just barely got out of the building when the five stopped her. Madalyne quickly drew out her sword, and swung it at the closest one, while the other grabbed onto her and Madalyne started to struggle to break free. "Hold still girlie, we just want a little snack." One of them said as Madalyne kicked one of them between the legs causing the one holding her to let go.</s> <|message|>Nancy Amelia Parker --- --- ☀️ Nancy Parker ☀️ --- Location: Jack in the Box Skills: Strategy, Singing, Audiokinesis --- --- Nancy grimaced, shaking her head. "Standard issue imperial gold," she said reluctantly. Maybe this was a sign from the universe that she ought to start carrying silver weapons, especially if she was going to be praying to Diana on the regular. She made a mental note to check the armory when they got back. As Niah apologized, Nancy's face paled. Earlier on the train, they had been talking about their powers. Niah had mentioned the entire Oath thing... and also being able to mess with people's emotions. Her eyes darted over towards the werewolves. Sweet Niah had just royally pissed them off. "Pedit," Nancy cursed in Latin. She quickly followed Madalyne outside of the Jack in the Box, a not too small part of her very relieved to see that they had gotten their food. She didn't want to have to wait until after the next Amtrak stop to eat. Focus! she scolded herself. The werewolves were a lot more threatening than whether or not they'd get their daily recommended 2000 Calories. Her heart clenched as the werewolves grabbed Madalyne. Her imperial gold wasn't going to do the trick. She didn't know if Mads would be able to pull off the same Mist trick, but there wasn't time to spare. Her best friend was in peril and Nancy did the only thing she could think of - she made a scene. On the train, they had talked about her maybe being able to use sound to kill. It was time to test that. She sipped a bit of her drink, before clearing her throat. She whispered a silent prayer to Apollo to bless this deadly performance. In her mind, the song began to play, and she began her musical onslaught on the werewolves, aiming to kill them with music - 🎶Can't stay at home, can't stay at school. Old folks say 'You poor little fool'. Down the streets I'm the girl next door. I'm the fox you've been waiting for. Hello, daddy. Hello, mom. I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! POP! POP! POP! Hello world! I'm your wild girl. I'm your ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!🎶 POP! POP! The five werewolves were no more as Nancy finished her last note, covered in monster dust. Her voice felt incredibly hoarse after such a performance. "Thanks, Dad," she whispered, figuring he must have answered her prayers - that or Joan Jett was actually an immortal goddess.</s>

<|message|>Niah Bautista Location: Jack-in-the-box -> Amtrak platform (Medford, Oregon) Skills: --- With their food in hand, the trio tried to make a quick exit. The werewolves turned bikers didn't give them a chance though. Niah felt awful for flipping the switch the wrong way. Why did her power sometimes just not work? She sent a silent prayer to her mother apologizing if she had done anything wrong. Maybe she hadn't appreciated Niah calming the wet stranger on the train down. Or she had been just too close to the dishonest action that got them dinner? Niah hoped it was the former, that at least she could change her behavior for. The other led to starvation. Nancy had it under control though. She gave the idea Niah had given her a spin, Niah just plugged her ears hoping it would keep her head from exploding. Just in case. Then there five headless monsters that turned to dust. She gapped. "Damn. That was impressive." Niah looked at where the werewolves had been and saw a collection of teeth left over. Taking a word from Nancy Niah said "Grody." She picked it all up quickly though, "Let's go, get back on the train and you can keep all these nice teeth." She shuddered.</s>

<|description|>Arina A determined and resourceful woman who shows courage in the face of adversity. She is quick-witted and doesn't shy away from physical work, as shown by her lifting heavy debris. Her concern for the well-being of others indicates a compassionate nature. Despite the chaos around her, Arina maintains a level head and strategic thinking, which contributes to her survival instincts.</s> <|description|>Simon A strong and resilient man who seems to possess an unexplained source of power within him. He has an underlying hint of distortion in his tone, suggesting a changed or transformed state. Despite the dire circumstances, he remains curious and determined to discover what happened to him and why he survived when others did not. His ability to focus on getting out of his trapped situation shows his adaptability and will to survive.</s> <|narrator|>Arina wakes up in a deserted area filled with rubble and debris, surrounded by chaos. She finds herself near a buried man named Simon, who is also alive but trapped under the rubble. Both characters communicate through their muffled voices as they try to help each other out. They share their thoughts and experiences about what happened and why they survived when others did not. Despite the danger surrounding them, they work together to remove the debris blocking their escape route. The story ends with Arina's determination and physical effort to clear enough rubble for Simon to climb out of his trap.</s> <|message|>Arina @AndrewS Eyes slowly opened after what seemed like an eternity. One moment Arina was busy shoving her way toward the steps of the subway. The next she was lying in sand and debris. It would be uncomfortable to move around with sand and debris in the folds of her clothing. Sand...? She blinked as she brought her hands close to stare at her palms. Sand and debris fell from between her fingers. Geez, sanitation doesn't put this much sand on the street in the winter! Arina thought to herself before her eyes widened and hurriedly looked around. Someone needed to do something about that blazing sun! She could see nothing but sand, debris, and broken buildings through the expanse. Cars were totaled, some looked like they have seen better days. Skyscrapers with broken glass panes jutted out of dunes, the earth seemed to swallow them up. "What the hell happened here?" she asked aloud. She jumped a bit when she heard potent calls of pain, anguish, and crashes. Without thinking or wanting to look in the back of her, she ran. She did not care if her legs were still wobbly from disuse. She needed to get out of there, and somewhere safe! Arina turned around the corner before she tripped on a rock and plummeted face first back into the sand...?</s> <|message|>Simon Pressure. Weight. It felt like a thousand pounds was pushing down on top of him. The rubble of a building or perhaps a shrine covered his body from head to toe beneath debris and concrete, stone and sand. He couldn't see much, save for the way light sort of broke through the rocks covering him, yet, despite all of that weight, he felt no pain. He should have been crushed entirely, but he was clearly in one piece. Confusion. Panic. There was so much noise...he could hear it all, so clearly, from beyond where he lay in what should have been a grave. Screaming, disorder. The sound of crashing metal and explosions. Why did they all seem so damn loud? In fact, his head itself was ringing, his eyes struggling to adjust. Simon felt something inside of him. Something unnatural. It seemed like it was pushing upwards out of his chest, searching for a way out yet it caused no pain. It felt like a strength he had never known, a power foreign and unfamiliar. Was it the reason why he was still alive? Memories. Scattered. Bits and pieces rushed back to him. Feelings, sights, sounds...regrets. Something had happened here. He had failed. As it started to come back to him, he heard the approaching sound of quick footprints, somebody was running. They seemed to have tripped, falling forward, causing the sand and debris beneath it to buckle, pushing harder into Simon hidden underneath it. "Hello?" He asked, his voice sounding different than he remembered it sounding. It was deeper, an underlying hint of distortion in the tone. "Hello?" He repeated, a second time, from beneath the sand, pushing upwards against the stones that kept him trapped, finding them beginning to move despite their weight as strength began to return to his limbs.</s> <|message|>Arina "OOF!" Arina fell face first in the sand after another cry was heard behind her. She could feel the dust kicking up again as wind and debris played with her hair and grazed against her skin. Whatever was happening from blocks away was loud, and she wanted nothing to do with it. Arina steadied herself before pushing herself back up. She wiped sand and debris off her chin and cheeks before she looked around. More rubble, but for some reason, it felt safe...? She examined the rubble around her, walking towards a place she felt the most peaceful. Odd. "Everywhere but here is chaos," she said, as she surveyed the rubble. "Could it be that it was some kind of holy place?" She walked cautiously before hearing another crash. She ran behind one of the larger pieces of rubble and panted. Arina looked out and around before she could hear a voice calling to her. It sounded like it came from where she fell. Could it be? Another survivor? She immediately went towards the rubble. Cautiously, she lifted one of the lighter pieces of rubble off the pile. Her heart beat faster as she heard another muffled "hello". Oh shit, it was! She started taking off more rubble and placed it off to the side. "Hello?" she offered. "If you can hear me, say 'hello' again." She thought for a bit. If they were buried...then...! She would need time to take the rubble off, and she would need whoever was calling for help to stay awake. Stay awake, please! I'm coming!</s> <|message|>Simon The sound of a voice, muffled by the weight and heft of the sand and rubble, could clearly be heard from above him. Simon tried again, pushing against the weight. It shifted, causing more loose grains of sand to fall in between the crevices made by the disturbance, both helping him climb out while simultaneously filling the space he had emptied, leaving him just as trapped as he was before. "Hello?" He repeated, a second time, calling out to the person above him, answering her request in confusion. He barely even knew where he was, or how he was still alive...but it was beginning to come back to him. There was a bright light. He could remember the way it felt against his skin...warm, yet somehow cool. Inviting, yet warning him to stay away. He could clearly see it in his head; his hand reached outwards towards it and then, everything went black. He knew it wasn't a dream, nor a delusion of a panicked, buried mind. It felt too real. What had he done? Whomever was above him had a softer voice, it was definitely a woman. She spoke of the chaos up above, a chaos he had yet to fully grasp. For now, his focus was renewed upon getting out of this sand-ladened prison he was beneath to see this supposed chaos for himself. The feeling in his chest, the one that lurched upwards and outwards, continued, and it was imbuing his limbs with power. With her help, he was certain he'd be able to climb out of this mess, but what exactly awaited him when he did? "I'm...I'm going to need your help. Can you lift any of the debris?" His distorted voice called back, likely sounding that way to her with the rationalization that it was due to the interference caused by the rubble that separated them when, in actuality, it was an actual change in the cadence of the way he spoke. He was aware, he just didn't care enough about it right now to dwell.</s>

<|message|>Arina "Thank goodness! I'll do my best with the debris!" she said. "Keep talking to me!" Judging by the voice, the stranger was a man. She was thankful to hear the muffled voice from whoever was trapped. She wanted to cry in happiness for it was possibly another survivor! However, she needed to work quickly! Arina lifted another sand-covered stone and placed it away among another pile of rubble. She continued her actions, before stopping again to listen to the stranger. She needed to make sure she managed to get the right debris out. This way Arina could grab the right debris for the man to safely climb out. Arina took a moment before she lifted another block of rubble from the pile, launching it into another pile of debris. There was no time, as the noises behind her got louder as possibly another fight started. She had no time to be scared, she needed to get the other survivor out so they could get away! However, she also needed to take breaks. As she got closer to the voice's owner, the heavier the debris got. Arina remembered what her weight trainer told her when lifting. "Lift with the knees!" she muttered, hefting another block of rubble up. She dropped the block down with the other moved rubble. "Hey, how ya doing down there? There are a few more blocks, I think!" she said, as she carefully picked another block of rubble.</s>

<|description|>Lord Vail Hygrace Age: 211, to his best estimate Height: 6'2" Weight: 192 lbs Race: Vampire Birthplace: England, circa 1667 (Elizabethan era) Short Bio: Born in the Elizabethan era and surviving into the Victorian, Vail has seen the rise and fall of two centuries' worth of dynasties—not just human, but supernatural as well. As a member of the Hygrace family, he was raised in the wealth and prestige of the most powerful vampire clan in London. His uncle, Lord Reginald Hygrace, was a respected leader, known across the nation for offering protection to any vampires who needed sanctuary from The Order of the Saints: an influential group of men and women who tracked down and killed the "demons" for a living. For nearly a century, Reginald's efforts kept both his family and the rest of the vampires safe. However, around the year 1750, he made the mistake of taking in a man named Lord Elias Wynter. At a glance, Elias seemed like just another refugee seeking sanctuary with the Hygrace family, but in truth, he sought to overthrow the ruling dynasty completely. Unbeknownst to the Hygraces, the Wynters had been plotting for quite a while to take over and change the way that vampires lived in England altogether. They believed that as "superior beings," they should fight back against humans instead of hiding from them in fear. They saw the Hygraces were weak and cowardly, unfit to lead their kind, and so started a rebellion. When he commenced his attack, Elias managed to kill Reginald, but his attempt to finish off the rest of the oldest generation was cut short by his victim's younger brother—Vail's father—Peter, who went on to take over as the leader of the Hygrace clan in his sibling's stead. Unfortunately, the Wynter family refused to give up after just one defeat and has continued to fight for power against the ruling dynasty ever since. For Vail, the following century of his life was spent predominantly in hiding. As the son of the most powerful vampire in England, he had to look out not only for members of the Saints but the Wynters as well. With such a large target on his back, he learned how to fight and wield a gun in order to protect himself. Both skills have saved his life since. Of course, he can't spend all his time in seclusion without going stir crazy, so he finds time to attend parties and other large gatherings put on by other aristocrats in London to get out of the Hygrace manor on occasion.</s> <|message|>Lord Vail Hygrace Vail raised his shoulders in a shrug when the Lady Victoria asked him why he was so eager to dance with her. "Is there a reason why I shouldn't be eager to dance with the guest of honor?" he queried with a smile, though eager was the furthest from what he was feeling. Of course, he knew he couldn't tell her that he had only intervened because he didn't trust the other Lord she'd been talking with—especially now that he knew the Wynter was to be her husband—so feigning impatience was the next best option. As the dance began, he laid his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the movements. Her comment about his conversation with her betrothed—apparently the Lord's name was Spencer—made him smirk. "You could say that," he mused, walking her through a simple turn. After attending events like this for two centuries, the motions of each kind of dance had become second nature to him. He barely even needed to focus to lead her from move to move and thus conversed with her easily, never missing a step. At her sarcastic question, Vail chuckled. "Luckily, no," he answered, watching her red dress flow like water as she twirled in front of him. The succulent aroma of blood lingered about her as well, and though it had faded quite a bit from the pungency with which it had struck him before, he still found it stimulating. He pursed his lips together. She really was quite an alluring woman. Perhaps he could see why Spencer was so fascinated with the Lady Crest after all. "Let's just say we disagree about some things that prevent us from getting along," he explained vaguely, pressing his hand a little more firmly against her back to pull her into a series of close-quarters steps. In the altered position, his face hovered close to her neck, something that would have been difficult for most vampires to handle. However, Vail prided himself on his self-control, abstaining from even touching her soft skin as he continued to walk her through the dance.</s> <|message|>Lady Victoria Moncourier-Crest "Oh well that is a shame. I guess I won't be seeing you at the wedding then. I quite enjoy your dancing." She expressed as he explained that he and Spencer didn't quite get along on some subjects. She hadn't had as good a partner such as Vail before. She truly enjoyed his effortless movements. He was a pleasure to dance alongside, she couldn't hide her genuine smile as she danced with him. When he pressed his hand a little more firmly into the small of her back, she felt a slight tingle run down her spine. There was something about this Lord that instilled a sense of excitement within her. But she didn't quite know why. If he was indeed a vampire, his aura could have affected her human pheromones. As his face hovered over her delicate neck, she could feel his gentle breath tickle her skin. He was so calm, he wasn't even out of breath! Whereas her chest rapidly rose and fell as they neared the end of their dance. He was either incredibly fit, toned and had miles of stamina or he was not in fact, human at all. For if he were a vampire around her recent blood blunder, he had amazing control. She didn't suspect Lord Spencer either, yet. The music and dance came to an unfortunate end, it was customary for the women to courtesy and the man to bow. Which Victoria proceeded to do and lowered her head. Upon her return to her upright position her eyes were a lot softer and gentler than they were before when they looked upon Vail with suspicion. "You said your father met mine? In which capacity?" She moved out of the way of the dancefloor for the next dancers taking up the Foxtrot. She wasn't quite ready for the next dance, especially a quicker one. She took a champagne glass from a passing butler and held it to her ruby lips. She was always eager to know more, learn more about her father's secret life. To unravel all the mysteries that came with it. Even if it meant she was in danger.</s> <|message|>Lord Vail Hygrace "Oh, I'm sure you'll enjoy dancing with your betrothed even more than with me," Vail assured Lady Victoria, though he knew he was lying through his teeth. It was true that Lord Spencer was more than likely a good dancer, since he could have lived for just as long as Vail had—it was impossible to tell with other members of their kind—but his prejudice toward all Wynters influenced his opinion of the other vampire. It was petty, but he wanted to believe he was better at dancing than his rival. As if to prove the point to himself, he went on to lead the Lady through some more complex steps, keeping her close for the added challenge of moving without tripping over each other's feet. Throughout the years, he'd come to learn that he quite enjoyed dancing. It was an elegant art with plenty of room for creativity, and it was always changing as humans came up with more styles and motions to add to it. Plus, there was no denying it was a bit of a treat to get so close to a Lady without needing an excuse to do so. He had enough self-control not to bite, but that didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy her scent or the lingering aroma of her spilled blood. Both were stimulating to the predator inside of him and got his heart pumping in an exhilarating way. For a moment, Vail nearly forgot he was dancing with a Crest. As he let himself sink into the intoxicating smells and the rhythm of the waltz, his previous inhibitions about staying close to the Lady Victoria fled from his mind. However, the moment didn't last long before the dance ended, and he was brought back down to reality. Having fulfilled his offer, the Lord bowed gracefully to the Crest heiress and turned to leave, relieved to finally be able to put some distance between them. He was still determined to enjoy the rest of the party, regardless of how rocky the start had been—though, if he was honest, dancing with Victoria hadn't been nearly as terrible as he'd thought it would be. Unfortunately, it seemed the Lady had a different agenda as she walked with him away from the other dancers. At her question, Vail nearly groaned. Apparently it had been a mistake to bring up their fathers' relation to each other after all. He located another drink on the table, port this time, and took a sip as he thought of a way to speak of their past without telling the truth or getting himself tangled in a lie that would be too complex to climb his way back out of. "They met through your father's work," he finally stated, deeming the answer safe enough to use. "Although I believe they only crossed paths once or twice during chance encounters, so I'd hardly call them close."</s> <|message|>Lady Victoria Moncourier-Crest As Vail suggested she would enjoy her betrothed's dance more than he, she very much doubted that. Spencer spent more time at his work and his various mining, timber and weapons manufacture companies, and was rumoured to be a workaholic that drove his employees hard. How would he have the time to spend perfecting such dance manoeuvres that Vail had mastered so elegantly. He went on to prove that by performing even more complex moves that she was barely able to keep up with. She was left quite breathless as she sipped on her champagne. She could really do with some water but only alcohol seemed to be on offer. Vail himself opted for a stronger beverage, perhaps he was uncomfortable speaking with the daughter of Alex Crest. A name known by both hunter and prey alike. As Vail explained his father and hers met through his work, this sparked her attention. They met during chance encounters. Perhaps through The Order itself. Perhaps Vail's father was one of them and knew about her father's secretive life. "Oh? He must have invested in some shares of the steelworks he ran then?" She asked as she eyed him over her tall champagne glass. She noticed the green flecks in his irises as she watched his reactions carefully for any slip up of information that may give him away to what he really knew about the underworld. She couldn't help but glance over at Lord Spencer, his eyes seemed to pierce her soul as he looked her way. It made her feel…somewhat unnerved by the way he stared at her. His presence felt ominous. How could one instil such a feeling over one's betrothed? She was not looking forward to spending more time with her future husband. Regarding Vail once more, her face softened at the view of his. Such smooth skin and perfect complexion. Although slightly pale in colour that could be put down to a life lived indoors behind a desk. She surmised he could be into business affairs, as he spoke with a finery an and intelligence behind those deep green orbs of his. Was his vampiric aura affecting her enough to distract the Lady from her train of thought and refocus on his strong jawline and fie hairs of his stubble in such a way she wanted to reach out and stroke it? Whatever it was, either his pheromones or her own hormones playing tricks on her mind, it caused her pupils to dilate and her eyes to sparkle slightly brighter as she looked up at him.</s>

<|message|>Lord Vail Hygrace There was an air of intelligence about the Lady Victoria that made Vail feel wary of her. Sipping at his drink, he eyed her discreetly as she went on to press him for details about how their fathers had known each other. Though the men of the era they lived in often looked down upon women as lesser members of society, he'd been around long enough to know better than that. In the past, he'd crossed paths with plenty of women whom, by any definition of the word, were quite smart. They always shared a curious glimmer in their eyes, eager to learn, but stifled by the culture they lived in. He could tell with just a glance that Victoria was among them. That meant he needed to be careful about what he said to her. Even then, he had to wonder if simply guarding his tongue was enough. The Lady's watchful gaze didn't slip past him for a moment. It was clear that she was observing him for some reason—probably to see through any lies, he guessed. The thought brought him some amusement in the midst of his guardedness, and a hint of a smile tugged at his lip. He concealed the expression by lifting his glass to take another sip, unable to help but think that this woman was something special. He supposed he should have expected as much from the daughter of Lord Alexander though. His father had told him that the former head of the Crest household had been quite a dangerous force as well. Putting his own observations of Victoria aside, Vail knew he couldn't let himself get tangled up in the snares of the trap she was laying down. Whether she believed he was a member of the Order or an enemy that needed to be slain, he needed to keep her from finding out he wasn't human. His hazel eyes danced over the other people in the ballroom. If there were any Saints among them, he would be killed in a heartbeat. For the sake of keeping his word to his father, he couldn't let her know who she was talking to. "Perhaps," he answered her question with a shrug. "To be perfectly honest, my father never told me very much about their encounters. He's always been a man of few words, so I'm afraid I don't have much more to say about their history." He studied her blue eyes, noticing the captivated look they held as she gazed up at him. It seemed that his lingering around her for this long was beginning to have an effect on her psyche. He ran his tongue across his teeth, drawn instinctively to the thought of coaxing her away from the crowd while she was vulnerable. Though it was tempting, he restrained himself. To feed on this Lady would be to invite conflict with both the Crests and the Wynters. He couldn't do something so foolish. "I'm sorry if I've disappointed you," Vail finally said, breaking the spell as he turned away from her again.</s>

<|description|>Ashtar Lakota "Dream Walker" Age: 23 Nationality: Sioux (for convenience sake) Profession: Tribal warrior, hunter, shaman by heritage. Apperance/Clothing: Combat Skills: knife fighting, blind fighting, archery, wrestling, fist fighting, shooting, mounted archery. General Skills: Riding, cooking, swimming, fishing, tent making, clothing making, skinning, plant identification, tracking, running, herbal medicine, poisons, wound care, smoking, psychic voyage/getting high. Languages: english, sioux, small amount of other tribal languages. Weapons: bow and arrows, large knife, bola, hand gun. Possessions: Tribal shaman. Personality: Nature loving, peaceful, pensive, respectful. History: Ashtar was the first son of the tribe shaman. He learned the ways of his people but his visions told him that he must leave them for a long journey. He would like to see peace between all tribes, even white ones, and tries to generate that influence in his travels. He spent time as an ambassador when he was very young to the immigrant Europeans and learned their language. He recently lost his father to a mysterious illness, but since then his father has spoken to him in dreams, telling him to seek the walking spirits...</s> <|message|>Cyrus Pendleton Cyrus nodded to the sheriff as he had him hold on to the body. He stood awkwardly for a moment with a little bit of sweat dripping down his back. He sighed and shifted to leaning on different legs, before he heard what the deputy had to say. Cyrus felt a shiver run down his spine, as he gave the man a glare. "No, hell no!" He exclaimed and he dropped the body. He stared at the sheriff and the deputy as they engaged in conversation over the disappearance. His face seemed to form a glare. It wasn't every day that the evidence of one's kill was just snatched away, and it could mean his bounty pay was forfeit. Cyrus stepped over, following the female character who had just appeared on the scene. They were kicking up dust in the streets, making a regular hustle towards the sheriff's office. Cyrus was close behind the Sioux female, as she stepped into the office. They came to the back room he had mentioned, and there he saw it. There before him was an empty room, with only a few drops of blood. It wasn't nearly enough for the bullet wounds Cyrus had inflicted on the man. "Son of a bitch." He exclaimed, surveying the room. In the thin layer of dust coating the flour, there appeared only one set of footprints leading out of the room that did not belong to the Sioux female. "You've got to be shitting me." He grimaced and glared at the room, as if it had done him the wrong. "Looks like he just didn't fucking die. I'll have to fucking put him down, again, till he stays down." He grumbled. He hated Westbrook from the moment he had met him, and was in no mood to deal with him still living. He knew a little of his background, having heard that he had been suspected of gruesomely murdering several children in one incident. He never thought he would meet an ex-union soldier who was so psychologically messed up, as he had been alright and he lost all of his family to the war. The war had taken much of his dreams and aspirations with its loss on the confederate side. He had thought all he needed was his wife and kids, but it had taken them. His father had died so early on in the conflict. Missouri had erupted in fire and blood, and been turned upside down. He had done all he could to move on from it all, but it seemed to continue following him. This time, it was coming after him in the form of a man whom appeared to refuse to stay dead. FYI: All clues were provided by the GM for me to post.</s> <|message|>Angpetu Dulain Angpetu sighed as she searched around with Cryus in the back room, checking out things. Kneeling down she touched the dried blood and then smelled it carefully. Pulling back she grimaced. "No, he was dead," she said flatly as she rose back up and looked at the foot steps in the dust. "Still is in a way," she added as she slowly followed the trailed out of the room and towards the back door of the Sheriffs office. She knew what she just said would probably be met with disbelief and such but she didn't care. She had been dealing with the Kindred, a term for the undead, for the majority of her life at this point and had seen too many things not to know that people could still walk far after death if the circumstances were right. Turning around she looked back over towards Cyrus and sighed as she rubbed her temples. She needed a new team but this was not how she wanted to go about it. Sadly she didn't have much choice in the matter right now. The undead were tricky to kill. "Sorry but need some information. Who are you, who did you kill, how long ago did you kill them, how did you kill them and what was the weapon you killed them with made of?" she asked quickly as she stood there. She waited for an answer as the Sheriff can running in, leaving his ever flawed deputy outside watching over the newest corpse just in case. "Ang, what in tarnation is going on?" he asked as he spit his toothpick out of his mouth and onto the ground. "You don't want to hear this Conner," she said quickly as she stood there. "The hell I don't woman, I got bodies disappearing from my office, people dying on the streets left and right without known cause and a padre who is tired of funerals. Now tell me woman what is going on," the sheriff retorted quickly. "The hell you do, now git Conner. I mean it. You aren't ready for this shit. Go back to your business and let me take care of mine," she said as she griped her rifle in her hands. "Dagnabbit woman! Tell me!" "Fine, he was dead but now he is undead. He is walking around out there somewhere right now looking for someone to feed from to regain his strength and if I don't find him and figure out what the hell kind of undead he is you are going to have a lot more bodies on your hands," she stated quickly in a non-comical voice that was as serious as the day was long. Conner just looked at her dumfounded. He had known Angpetu for years, she was always sensible and had always spoke truth to him so he knew whatever she said she had meant it but he was having a hard time wrapping his head about this one. "You're right, I don't want to know," he said before walking back out the door to deal with things that didn't sound like they had just come from the mouth of a lunatic. "Told you," she said shaking her head before directing her attention back over towards Cyrus. "Now, as I was asking….The questions, what are your answers?"</s> <|message|>Maeve Devlin Collab between @Goldeagle1221 & @Noxious "Yes you'll have to excuse my friend," Twain added matter of factly, leaning back to study the brown drink that so clearly was not his vodka martini, "he's dead tired." His eyes flickered from his drink and over to the woman and a polite smile stretched across his face, "what's your name?" "They call me Maeve." She wrapped a finger around a loose curl, twirling it between her fingertips. She was still pissed about her John, but everyone had secrets and everyone, this man, usually wanted to tell their secrets to girl like her so she curled those youthful pink lips into a grin and hoped for the best, " We don't normally let people sleep here," her free hand gesturing to the dead guy. "Maeve, hm?" Twain ignored the mention of Paul's corpse. His eyes flickered across her chest for a moment, "both of them?" "Oh, I'm just fancy enough for Maeve, no official title, but I'm guessing you're a bit more official, hmmmm? What is it that they call you sir, those still alive enough to call anyways?" Twain's smile seemed to curl into one of humor and he shook his head, dismissing his recent hidden joke, "I am Mark Twain." She scrunched her nose at the name, recognition clicking. "Mark Twain….aren't you an author?" Twain's smile flipped to a frown, "doctor, the doctor," he corrected. "Doctor hmmm? We don't get many doctors out this way, especially not as young as you." Doctor always brought to mind the wrinkled old men, barely healthy themselves. She wasn't normally a fan of doctors. She still wasn't sure if she was a fan of his either. "Evidently not," Mark said plainly as he jutted a square chin towards the dead man, "my own scholarly eyes seem to understand that this patron has a chronic case of rigor mortis; common in these parts?" She glanced back to Paul, holding on to that sweet smile even as the dead man became the focus. "I don't mean to be frank Mr. Twain, but I'm not sure I would trust you, even if your assertion appears correct. You can gain some favor if you help me remove your friend. Not good for business, makes the place appear dead." Twain stood up and dusted the lap of his pants, and placed his drink down on a napkin, "the drink was a little stiff anyways," he mumbled to himself as he gestured towards Paul Blake and scooted over to grab his arms. With a huff of breath that spiraled the lingering smoke in the air, Mark shifted the dead man to his cold feet and wrapped a lifeless arm around his own shoulders as he slowly shuffled the heavy man out of the booth and off to the sheriff's office. She followed behind him, without offering to help; she doubted he expected her to anyways. The sheriff may have questions though and she could possibly use the opportunity to gain some favor; either with the law or the doctor.</s> <|message|>Bill Cooper "Now you're sure this is for a man by the name of Westbrook?" The grizzled old marshal scratched his jaw with the question. The brutish gravedigger in front of him answered without looking away from his work. "Yep. Weren't ten minutes ago, runner from the sheriff tells me a man named Westbrook's been shot by a bounty hunter, get diggin', Tom." The man spit into the shallow pit in front of him. "So, I done come out here, get digging, and I'm barely three shovels in when an old man comes up and starts askin' me the same question over and over." Bill sighed and rubbed his brow. He mused in some corner of his brain that it was lucky he'd happened upon the gravedigger beginning his work just as he'd arrived in Brogden - otherwise, he might have stormed into town, weapons brandished, looking for a dead man. The marshal let out a chuckle. "Damn hell. I hunt the bastard all over creation for months, and when I finally done run him down, he gets himself shot not ten minutes before I show up." The gravedigger spat again and continued shoveling. "Jesus. He owe you money?" Bill gestured to the badge on his breast, not that the man he was speaking to was looking at him. "Nah. US Marshal. Man was a real mean sonofabitch, from what I've heard." There was more to it then that, of course. Another reason for his dogged pursuit of the criminal. Bill hadn't known the man personally, but he just as easily might have. A memory flashed into his mind. The flickering light of a campfire, the smell of bad hygiene and smoke, a belly full of food taken from some plantation or another, and a whole crowd of faces, all hollering and laughing. Mean sonsabitches, all. He was shaken out of his ruminations by the sound of a shovel striking rock, and the gravedigger's hard voice. "Well, marshal, what you gonna do now that you done wasted your time?" Bill turned and mounted his brown mare Daisy once again, clicking to turn her towards the town. "Well, reckon the first thing I do is find the man what shot him," he said, "And buy him a drink." And so he rode off towards the town, mumbling a familiar tune under his breath. "Sherman's dashing yankee boys will never reach the coast... so the saucy rebels said and twas a handsome boast..." When he arrived in the town, he found something not entirely to his expectation. There was a procession headed into the sheriff's office, all seeming in a real serious hurry. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he definitely heard the name 'Westbrook' once or twice. The marshal quickly tied up Daisy on a nearby post and hurried after them. By the time he entered the sheriff's office, all he was able to catch was the sheriff storming out of the back room with frustration clearly plastered on his face. Bill cleared his throat and addressed the man. "Pardon me, sheriff. Bill Cooper, US Marshal. I have been pursuing Mr. Westbrook for some time now, and I've just been informed he was shot earlier today. Now I hear a whole gaggle of folks talkin' bout him and runnin' up and down the street. Mind clearing things up for me, sheriff? What exactly happened to Westbrook?"</s>

<|message|>Ashtar Lakota "Dream Walker" (Sorry so short, but I want to at least keep things moving.) Ashtar knew what the people around him were saying, that a dead man had returned to walk. It sent a chill up his spine, and he had to see for himself. Like a piece of furniture he had gone unnoticed in the backroom of the sheriff's office, so easily could he blend in with the environment and move about without making a sound. By the time Angpetu or Cyrus realized he was there, he was already crouching over a splash of blood on the floor near the open window where Westbrook had escaped. The shaman reached his hand down over the blood. "Good spirits are carried by the eagle to the sky, but this spirit goes to the wolf instead." He started blathering on some native, superstitious bullshit. Creepily, he touched the blood to his middle fingertip and brought it to his left eye, painting a red line straight down his cheek. He repeated the process with the other eye. "...the wolf is hungry and angry. It isn't finished eating." He got up and suprisingly silently, his soft mocassins gently padding across the wood, went over to the window and looked out cautiously into the now fairly dark outdoors. After a moment of a glassy gaze, he pulled back frowning. "Hmm. The wolf moves swift." Ashtar looked at the others, who couldn't help but stare at him with either awe or cynicism or both. The possibility of dead people getting up and causing problems apparently wasn't new to him. He folded his arms, realizing the white people might not quite get what was going on. He blinked calmly, sighing, then shrugged. "So. Does... anyone need a drink?" It was impossible to tell if he was serious or making a joke.</s>

<|description|>DR4K3 (Drake) Nickname (if any): Drake Hernandez. Title or Hero/Villain/Code name (if any): Drake Hernandez, Senior Research and Development Coordinator at Dark Star Technology. V.P. of Synthetic Biology, R&D at SWORD. Universal Tech Support Engineer, Level 2. Species: Synthezoid. Gender: Male Sexuality: n/a Age: technically was only created 14 years ago. Developmentally much older. Birthday: May 7, 2012 Personality: Drake Hernandez, DR4K3's human persona, is mild mannered and kind. He knows the names of everyone he works with, and is embedded into the workplace culture. As DR4KE he is sarcastic and prefers the mental sparring of his 'Father' Tony Stark. DR4K3 is incredibly smart, and had no problem making sure you are aware, while Drake Hernandez, is just as smart, prefers to help people come to the answer themselves. Appearance (description, face-claim): Drake Hernandez's face claim is Gaspard Ulliel. See above art for DR4K3's robot form. When he takes up a more public facing hero role, he will assume the appearance of a blue Iron Man. Being able to shift shapes, his appearance is variable. Affiliation (if any): Dark Star Technologies. Science. Powers: DR4KE is a hive of nanobots formed together to form a synthetic life form. Being a sapient construct, his physical form is a perfect hybrid between organic and inorganic material. His entire body is a mix between vibranium and synthetic simulacrum of organic tissue created by the Technovore Virus. Drake's body is made up of nanomachines allowing the user to manipulate them in any way they see fit. Giving him the power of Nanite Mimincry. DR4K3 is strong enough to lift construction vehicles and destroy thick steel, fast enough to easily move at supersonic speeds, durable enough to withstand most explosions. Able to form almost any weapon out of his Nanite form, similar to the Mark LXXXV Armour. Weapon(s) (if any): Himself Weaknesses: DR4K3 doesn't really get human emotions all the time. While it is something he is working on, he can come across as a little rude. He's pretty sure having an MRI would kill him, and isn't too fond of magnets. Likes : Being the smartest being in the room. Science. Sun Fish. Dislikes : Babies. Magic. Current Residence: A nice small apartment in the Upper East Side. Backstory (if you plan on revealing your OC's backstory in the RP, either skip this or keep it vague): A few days after the battle of New York, was when DR4K3 was technically born. His first sub routines and physical presence. The Technovore was the accidental result of a last-ditch effort made by two scientists working for Cauwfield Chemicals at the Stark Space Station to produce compelling results in their nanotechnology project to avoid having it shut down. While the project was shut down, due to the Technovore taking over the satellite, Tony's hubris meant he did not destroy the Technovore, instead he uploaded one of his AI programs to the satellite, and isolated it in space. Where the AI, which was 'DR4K3' combined. Shortly after Age of Ultron, DR4K3 made his way down to earth. Where he met Vision. The two became friends over their similar make up. Drake absorbed a little bit of Vision, and was brough of before Tony. Tony took him in and helped him evolve into the being he is today. Following the Infinity War, and the death of his Father Figure, he lent into his human persona and decided to live the quiet life. Special Skills (if any): His brain is a super advanced super computer, that was created by some of the best minds in the world. There aren't many technical skills he doesn't have. Other:</s> <|message|>James Walker James Walker The War-Spider Location: Hotel - Gala Fundraiser --- Walking towards the doors James just trying to get outside. Giving as many people polite excuse mes and other things as he walked by them. Once he gets to the front doors he opens them and sees the guards standing there. "Having a great night you two? Not missing much inside, is the real party out here?" James poorly tries to strike up a conversation as he scans the outside building and surroundings with his eyes. Hotels and what not, first thing that came to James mind was this was a very poor place to have a gala at. Too many angles for this to go wrong, instead of dwelling on this he pulls out his flask he had nursed on to no avail he then offers it to the guard, "Here a little pick me up. It's not like you both will see any of the food or booze they are offering in there but this should be good." The first guard refused because they are on duty James then says, "Oh come on, if something were to happen right now, it would be very dumb of anyone to attack this gala. First off Mister Price has some of the best security money can buy. It would be like kicking a hornets nest of bad for anyone. So drink up, I wont tell your boss." The second guard took the bottle and told the other to live a little and took a sip and nearly smack it all over the ground. "What is in this lighter fluid?" James thinks it over he tried to find something that would hopefully go past his extremely high metabolism he then said, "Some very top shelf vodka that Mister Price had. I think, it wasnt really labeled but it's not bad stuff." Handing James back the flask the guard regretting drinking on the job as soon as he had. James thought he saw a glint in the nearby hotel he scanned over it with his eyes. He wasnt sure what he saw he then asks his AI in his head, 'Hey could you I don't know scan over that Hotel and tell me if you see anything?" Guardian replied, 'Give me a second to scan and calculate I'll get back to you in a second.' James now awaits for his AI to get the information back to him.</s> <|message|>Alistar Sabbath As Lust starts to walk away Alistar grins watching her hips sway as he says to Rex "Damn I love to see her leave, so bub where shall we look for this birdman?" looking around he would get his bearings and say "Looks like we are back in New York." "DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF RIGHT NOW?!" He'd scoff disgustedly, "WE'RE BACK IN NEW YORK! FUCK THAT BIRD!" He'd shoulder check his brother as he leapt passed him to dangle from a tree, "We could go home and get fucked up, get our dicks wet and THEEEEN WE COULD RUN AROUND AND GET THEM SLAY BELLS RANGLING!" "True brother we have been gone awhile, what was i thinking" laughing he says "She has a way of messing with my mind, but i dont care shes worth it. First we go fuck some of the bitches and collect our money these pleeb humans owe us. I've missed The Bloodbath. It's been too long. Hell is fun but it's just not the same, and when we are done we use the police that's in our pocket to run searches for a birdman, someone or one of the cameras had to have seen something." looking around at the cars nearby he says "shall we borrow one of these cars or shall we call our limo driver to come get us?" Rex would give him a look of complete disdain before responding, "Dude, are you fucking serious right now?" He'd shake his head in disappointment, "Why would we need a ride when I could just…" He'd hold his arms out in a T pose and walk backwards into the shadows, a smirk plastered across his face, "See you there?" His disembodied voice echoing hauntingly from the shadows. "You son of a bitch wait…. Never mind then i guess."closing his eyes he would do the hand sign for teleportation jutsu, upon entering his hotel The Tower of Sin, he would yell for Rex "HEY ASSHOLE I'M HOME." and heads downstairs after collecting the money going to their underground club. Rex would already be seated upon his throne of a chair at the back of the club by the time Alistar finally got there, a woman in his lap and at each side showering him in affection. He'd point to his non-existent watch as soon as he and Alistar would lock eyes. Regardless of his urge to blow off the mission, they really had to find this angel. As little as he cared for dealing with The Nine Hells, a job was a job. He just wasn't in a rush to finish it. It was fucking New York, that's a lot of ground to cover even with his ability to shadow step. As Alistar tosses a case at Rex's feet he looks to the two beautiful ladies on his lap and asks them "Have you lovely ladies ever heard of a birdman sighting here in town? No gossip about anything like that between the working girls?" [color=FD1C03]"Did you just refer to these delectable treats as whores?" Rex would grin, looking at the case at his feet, "Now that's not very kind." he'd laugh, the three women scoffing in offense and all attempting to voice their displeasure at the same time. Snapping his fingers the women would immediately quite down, "Mind answering the poor fool?" he'd ask them, laughter still upon his breath. "Wooow Rex! I'm hurt! You know this suit wasn't cheap." he would say grinning back at him. The woman in his lap would roll her eyes as she began to explain that they hadn't heard of no bird man in New York City, "What are you stupid, stupid?" She'd ask with so much attitude that her D's were poppin with T's. Gritting his teeth he threw one of his daggers by her face chopping off a good portion of hair "DON'T TAKE THAT FUCKING TONE WITH ME! I can have your ass working a street corner RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" Taking a deep breath he would collect himself "Now is there anything going on tonight? Like parties?" "Why the fuck would parties be important when it comes to finding something like an angel? I swear you don't think about the shit that comes out of your mouth," he'd point up near his head, "or where the fuck you're throwing those knives. Next time, I pump you full of blessings. Follow?" "I wasn't aiming for you. Now let me rephrase the question, HAVE you heard of anything interesting happening around town? Anything at all?" It was one of the other two women that decided to speak this time, the one closest to the thrown knife to be exact, "Um, actually," she'd say timidly, "there is. It's been the talk of the town for some time now! It's this big fancy gala that they're having for animal conservation!" She'd scramble to her feet and pull her phone from her mini clutch, "Here look." Smiling he walks over to her and looks at her phone, getting the address saying "Thank you darling it looks like we have so where to go Rex. Our invitation must've gotten lost in the mail, I mean we are two of if not thee richest business owners in town." looking at Rex he sighs "But you might want to change into…" "SOMETHING FANCY?!?!?!?!?!" Rex would retort with growing anger, "What the fuck is wrong with my fit, G?" "I mean come on Rex, you look like a common thug. No offense Rex would snarl, snapping his fingers once again; his clothing dissipating into a puff of black smoke, and shoving the female in his lap, off and onto the floor as he stood up, "I'll show you common thug, prick." He'd say almost ironically as his member swayed intimidatingly between them, before snapping his fingers once again. With that, the same wisps of smoke began to reform around him, "Get the lead out, asshole…" He'd growl, the shadows within the club seemingly creeping towards him and forming a blackened ink-like blot beneath his feet, "We've a party to crash." With another one of his trademark grins, Alistar would step into the shadows at his brother's feet, "It won't be a party until we arrive, brother." The pair would suddenly begin to sink beneath the blackened surface, the shadows of the club springing back to their rightful positions as the tops of their heads submerged. One moment, darkness, the next they were appearing within the confines of a vehicle that was parked in front of a dazzling hotel. "Ew... " Rex would mutter at the sight before spotting the male outside the car, "OYE ASSHOLE! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR! THE VIPS HAVE ARRIVED!"</s>

<|message|>DR4K3 (Drake) Krotar was just about to start on chain smoking his fourth packet of Marlboro Reds, when something caught his eye. He blinked as his HUD zoomed in on a butler looking man came out the front door. The alien found this man odd. Not for the many number of reasons he found humans odd. Rather his system was picking up that the man had some serious tech on him. It couldn't pin down exactly what it was, but it definitely picked something up. This piqued the alien's interest. Placing the cigarette packet back in his jacket pocket, he stood up. A wave of lightheadedness washed over him as the nicotine caught up to him. He had to place a hand back out to steady himself by leaning on the bench. Taking a moment to steady himself he pushed back up. He looked down and straightened his jacket so it was less obvious he had two large handguns strapped to the side of his body. Having opted to wear his universal blasters in dual shoulder holsters today. Slow, careful, measured steps led Krotar forward. His gait betraying his purpose. He focused on his breathing. Feeling the cool air enter through his nose, and enter his lungs. His body warming the air before expelling it. As he drew closer, his system was able to read more from the man seemingly overflowing with tech. Not that anyone else would know just how much that man had within him. He quickened his pace to question the man. Drawing closer to him. Nanites? Was his HUD correct? Krotar was sure Earth hadn't reached that level of advanced tech yet. The sound of tires screeching filled the street as Krotar was hit by a car. Distracted by investigating this man, he had failed to watch for traffic. The alien had stepped right out in front of a 2013 Honda Civic. His body crumpled as he rolled up the bonnet of the car and smashed into the windshield. The car slammed one the brakes and slid to a halt. Krotar splayed out on the front of the car.</s>

<|description|>Major. Julian Mackeralini Physical: Age : 23 Height : 5'10 Weight : 140 lbs Body Type : Slimming Eye Color : Brown Hair Color : Brown Skin Color : White A thin and usually pale-skinned man, normally seen on horseback. Normally clean-shaven, he has smooth skin that almost sticks to his skin. He is normally seen with a pillow or something under his shirt to make him look larger then what he is. He even a padded pillow to fit his body type to make it look more natural instead of a pillow being shoved under his shirt. Description: A young Artillery officer from the Republican army who deserted once the Marion took over, he believed in the idea's of his mentor before he took the throne. He fled along with some men that were loyal to the ideas of the Republic, picking up others on his way out of the country in exile to try and join the forces who were forming against the Emporer. He wishes to see the Republic form and stay a republic, where people can be free and in control of the government. But in the infancy of his career, he was a line officer for the now Emporer and was given the nickname, 'Little Marion,' he thought the man was given to the Republic as a protector. In the few battles he fought with him, the line officer earned his place at Marion's side and several promotions, he wanted to take every step to be exactly like Marion. He would even begin starving himself as he didn't have the same body type and wanted to recreate himself in Marion's look. He had a somewhat natural blend of traditional tactics and more modern tactics. Nation: Republican Party of the Gauldic Peoples / Gauldic Republican Army Regiments: 1st Republican Artillery Uniforms - A bright Blue Jacket and pants, with red seams around the cuffs, down the sides of the legs, and around the neck. Bright white undershirts would line the inside of the collar. NCO's and officers would have a red sash that would go from their right shoulder down to the left hip, and in colder weather, it could double as a scarf. The shako would be large and would typically be covered with a white cloth, the plume a bright white, with a red base. On the left arm, a white armband is normally seen. Manpower and Equipment : 32 men (2 Officers, 1 blacksmith, 1 engineer, 28 rankmen), 43 horses, 4 ammunition and shot carriages, 4 artillery pieces (2 - 12-pound horse-drawn cannons, 1 - 32-pound, and 1 32-pound howitzer.) 19 muskets, 2 pistols, 3 swords, 9 extra epee bayonets. 1 flag of the republic with a white star painted in the center. History - A regiment of Exiled soldiers and politicians that are leaving the country, headed by a Lieutenant promoted to a Major soon after. They would manage to leave with most of their equipment and lives, many would still perish at the hands of their pursuers. Their sister regiment, the 1st Republican Guard, another regiment led by the new Major. Typically seen with the guard building their defenses, and supplying them as best as they could. --- 1st Republican Guard - (Light infantry/Supply train) Uniform - A mix match of uniforms from their previous regiments or roles in lives. A white armband on the left arm, a movement has been made to try and standardize the uniform, but very little have been made or purchased. The standard is a white jacket and pants, with blue stitching on the cuffs and collar. Standard white shirt, their hats, and shakos have a white plumb on top. Manpower and Equipment : 748 men (6 officers, 12 politicians/acting officers, 2 blacksmiths, 1 gunsmith, 43 businessmen, rest are rank), 2 carriages, 15 horses, 54 rifles, 591 muskets, 204 bayonets, 23 pistols, 4 swords, 15 axes/hatchets. Possibility more manpower/weapons based on conscription and purchases. 15 shovels, 24 mining picks. History : A baggage train of men following an artillery officer leaving the capital. Most followed because of fear, exiling themselves with a leader in front of them. They hoped to find allies in the surrounding countries or at least some friends that will allow them to pass through on their journies. Fighting off the Imperial forces that would be pursuing them out of the country. They would stay with the Major, it's mainly used to protect the Artillery, build fortifications, and transporting supplies to the battery.</s> <|message|>Friedrich, Duke von Nordmann, Halldorian Infantry preparing to receive a Gauldic advance Duke von Nordmann spoke first. He addressed the assembled retinue. "I am Brigadier Friedrich von Nordman, Duke von Nordman of the Halldor Empire. I have served in prior campaigns in the service of Herr Francisco Marion, following his imprisonment a year and a half ago, the Halldor Empire distanced itself from the Gauldic empire and its previous commitments with that mad man. I know he is a tenacious ruler and combatant. This contest we find ourselves in today will be as challenging as any each of us may have ever encountered in our lives. I have worked under the command of the emperor. He is not to be taken lightly. Any stories you may have heard about him, his reputation. They are all true. He is that good." Duke Friedrich took out a smoking pipe, filled it with tobacco and lit it. The pipe was made from hickory and the tobacco had a cherry flavor to it which quickly scented the interior of the tent. "Today, we have my brigade of infantry; about 12,000 strong, 6,000 Dusmane Cavalry, some of the most feared warriors on the continent, a battery of Gauldic artillery and…" Friedrich turned to Major Mackeralini, "how would you best describe your ragtag group of soldiers? They appear to be line infantry, but their numbers are depleted. How can we employ them in this campaign?" "I intend to deploy two line battalions of my 1st regiment under the command of Colonel Klaus von Kerpin on the far left of the line. They will be positioned behind the military crest; with the first battalion in the lead and the second battalion fifty meters behind the first. Next, is ample room for Major Mackeralini's artillery. To the right of the artillery will be Colonel Hans von Schmidt's second regiment. His two battalions of fusiliers will be arrayed in the same manner as von Kerpin's First. On our far right will be Colonel Joachim Göttisheim's Third regiment. All three Line regiments will post their first battalions in the prone position to help conceal their location to the Imperial forces on the other side of the valley." Duke Friedrich then added, "yes, the line infantry and the grenadiers will all have bayonets fixed, naturally." Duke Friedrich puffed on his pipe then looked at Iouldouz Khan, "there is ample room on the allied right for your cavalry. I am prepared to present you with two battalions of Halldor Royal Grenadier Guards under the command of Colonel Viktor Schneider. They can amply support your advance. Or we can use the Guards regiment as our Allied reserve. In either case, whether the dusmane Auxilliaries or the Halldorian Infantry break the enemy formation, the Royal Grenadier Guards are prepared to exploit that position." "For those who are aware of the organization of the Halldorian infantry regiments, you may notice I failed to mention our light infantry battalions or Jaegers. We have four Jaeger battalions that work much better in wooded terrain. We have the luxury of having natural forest on both flanks. Marion may or may not send troops into the forest. In either case, we should be prepared for either the enemy employing light infantry on our flanks or for our use to outflank the enemy when they advance. It is not a matter of if they advance, but when. Depending on Major Mackeralini's intentions with his light infantry force, he can either employ them in the woods to the south with the Jaeger battalion from the Royal Grenadier Guards regiment or I will post two Jaeger battalions in each of the two woodlots. They can enter the forest at a location west of our positions in order to remain undetected by the enemy. Then, by using their stealth, move east to a position only about a hundred meter, maybe two hundred beyond the forward edge of our line infantry. When the Gauldic attack, they will stop about a hundred meters from the crest to discharge a volley, if using infantry. It is at that time, that the Halldorian line will stand up to exchange volleys with the Gauldic infantry. When the two lines are exchanging volleys, this is the perfect time for the light infantry on both flanks to attack the enemy line in a double envelopment. If the enemy attacks with cavalry first, which is what I honestly expect, we will form battalion squares. The first battalion, von Kerpin regiment is prepared to encircle the Gauldic artillery battery to protect them from attacking cavalry. Once their cavalry charge is broken, we will reform lines and prepare for their infantry assault which should be followed close on the heels of their cavalry." Duke Friedrich stopped speaking and allowed input from the other two allied commanders at the table. He honesty wanted to hear their input. Given the terrain and the anticipated objective of the enemy, he felt a strong defense was the best strategic approach for the given battle. But if the Dusmane Khan wanted a more aggressive or audacious plan, he was willing to listen.</s> <|message|>Iouldouz Edicoglu Khan Iouldouz had a rudimentary understanding of all the languages spoken in the structure, but he was not an expert in any of them and for that there was a third man with him, the interpreter Ruslan Kulambetov. A man from a mixed family living in between worlds, he relayed the thoughts of his Khan to the rest of the commanders in an eloquent but understandable way. "In theory a good outline for how we'll do battle. But ultimately I believe it flawed on the basis that once again it is an attempt at playing the game against the house, that being the Emperor. In my opinion the man needs to be baited. Early at dawn we will push artillery forward and bombard them as much as possible; I will devote my horsemen to carrying fresh powder and balls if needed, we must make it seem as if our logistics are far greater than they have been and that thus we are ready to carelessly use our munitions with the aim of forcing an advance before his men are bombed to mush. His reaction should be monitored, and if he does not respond to the ceaseless bombardment then we should cease; it should be made to appear that this was bluff for the reason that our logistics were in fact abysmal, rather than excelsior as in the previous bluff or simply adequate as is the truth. This in turn would hopefully make him press an over-aggressive assault on the assumption our munitions have run out." Steepling his fingers, Iouldouz paused thoughtfully. "Of course, this gamble of a mind game may not pay off. In such a case we must seize the initiative and attempt to end the battle before the effects careless use of ammunition starts to become noticeable. Quite simply put the line infantry would thus be made to advance in as wide a line as possible, with cavalry and skirmishers sent to advance aggressively on the flanks. The skirmishers should be given to not engage the enemy's skirmishers in the woods if possible, and to simply advance further such that the foe may be enveloped, and struck from all sides. Furthermore, if possible the cavalry should not engage the rear of the foe's infantry formation but rather ride past fire and to the enemy's artillery if the gaps can be found." With that he shrugged. "Of course, I am but one of this collective, and I cannot insist on a plan without the consent of the other commanders. I shall be more than happy to go along with the plan of the most honourable von Nordmann, albeit I warn my men are most adept in engagements that are not too long. They're not afraid of gunfire as some colonial tribals, but their nerves do crack under too many cannons set against them."</s>

<|message|>Major. Julian Mackeralini The Major looked over at the horseman and shook his head after his translator whispered in his ear, "We don't know how many men he has... baiting him could be suicide, and don't forget we seem to be more of a force awaiting allied reinforcements... or at least a strong mountain to try and stall him here." He rested back into the chair he was in and looked at his translator. "having fought under the man as his subordinate with the man, we will be facing an enemy who will try to overwhelm us, he knows how to change his units orders to adjust to battle quickly." He paused, "First he will decide where he will break us, and make sure when his guard, that he will march forward and that the enemy will run... they will take no losses. They are elite enough to where when I fought your people before Horse Lord that I didn't even need to duck in fear for being shot as the flank routed when we marched forward with them when the officer we are facing was ill." He took a deep breath, "We turn his tactics of fear against them... we should make our stand just before the hill and build trenches and maybe a way for our cannons to be flush with the hill to shoot over them, let the recoil push them back into a state of protection. It will not protect us from his howitzers, but it should protect us from direct missile fire." "Oh and tell the Halldorian that the militia is more as a baggage train for logistics... we should use them as surgeons, water bearers and such... let the ones with guns fight where they are needed or protect the guns, maybe build more entrenchments during the fighting if we aren't done preparing." "But I say we try to dig ourselves in as much as possible... and reserving as of our elite soldiers as well as our horsemen, use your dragoons as quick response foot infantry... Use your Dusmane horsemen as shock troops or some flanking force if it presents itself through the first rank of national guardsmen he will most likely use to blunt our first attempts. Maybe when and if their first rank flees, we chase them down and use them as cover from their second wave and artillery. Force him to send his reserves forward while we try routing him... we can start digging ourselves in further forward in confusion, make him range his guns again, and waste whatever powder he has left. You are all thinking like the commanders that had to retreat... if it was you that I fought in the past, then I am sorry for the offense, but that is how you are thinking... He knows all of us; you are all great leaders whom he has studied before, I was one of his officers, he knows us... He knows our strengths, our weaknesses, how to make us tick and if he is like what I remember him to be we have to think outside of our boxes. But I know his, I fought with him against you... probably all of you, and I am sorry for rambling like a chastized bull. Still, we are thinking like the average officers at an academy using basic tactics that we have all learned before at some academy or from our fathers or peers..." "We are going against a force we know little about, a commander who has either trained or beat probably all of us in battle, and who probably outnumbers us... We should be on the cautious side and adapt to what we are presented... not just rush into a field where we will by far superior artillery... and the forests where we don't know if his scouts are already there waiting for us while we sit here."</s>

<|description|>Wylde Ostera Nickname: Race: Human Age: 27. Gender: Female Appearance: Picture or description. Use a hider. Additionally she has a chain like scars across all her right arm, neck and across her torso as if a long chain has been wrapped around her body and burned her skin at those places, leaving clear scars behind. Proportionality: Weight: 63 kg Height: 1.73 m Frame: Atlethic Use a hider. _______________________ Personality:- Wylde is an extremely straightforward person. She does what she wants, says what is on her mind and doesn't hold back for no one. She prefers company over solitude and has been known to search for people to spend time with. Due her work as a duelist for hire, she is used to traveling and loves it. Additionally she loves to meet new people and duel them if the chance presents itself. Warrior, mages, rogues, archers and all others, she loves experiencing new challenges and actively seeks out strong opponents. As a last note to mention she enjoys alcohol a lot. Especially before and after fights or when it's full moon. Job: Duelist Fighting Style: When without weapon, Wylde's main fighting style on extreme mobility and footwork that allows her to dodge and position herself for fast retaliation strikes, targeting vital points. Weapons from strongest to weakest: Rappier > lance > dagger. Armors/Outfits Self explanatory. Besides a single armguard on her left hand and a kneeguard on her right leg, she wears no other armor. As clothing she wears light so it doesn't affect her mobility. Weight Class: LIGHT. Familiar: Castanica Because I'm changing the summoning up, everyone get's one. First come first serve, you can be creative. However, you start with just ONE. You get one to two additional magic types. One Resistance/ absorbance. And a passive. List the strengths it gives you, as well as the passive. Nothing stupidly powerful please. Familiar Abilities: Allows darkness and negative status magics to be used. Grants immunity to darkness effects and resistance to sleep, slow, doom. Passive- grants the user low light vision. Weakness: Anything with light or fire attribute. Movement Type: Stationary or slow walk. Familiar Size: Large (Somewhat close to a Behemoth.). Relic Weapons: A jet black lance, with black and purple like wisps swirling around it. Relic Armors: An armor made out of jet black cloth and chains. Once summoned it wraps around the user, surrounding them with dark and purple wisps similar to the weapon. Additionally it releases a black mist/miasma. Trance: In trance, Wylde's speed triples along with her reflexes. Her body seems to get even slender, but without losing any physical strength. Her body starts to shine in pale blue and her weapon usually turns into crystal. Note, these do effect the trances as well to some degree. - That degree being that these items will get buffed up to some degree. - These however do not disrupt your default trance. Flat State. (Your standard CS reflects this already.) - This basically means when your familiar is inactive. Relic gear disappears until that familiar is active. - It also means your attributes return to base value. Meaning no buffs or debuffs to compensate. Relic Items. - These are unbreakable, but because of that they at times will not be as strong as the items you craft. - These however are items that do get stronger as your familiar bonds with you in battle. - In short, good alternatives to not destroying your gear. These are not required to be used when the familiar is summoned, but if you do not wish to use them, you can have the familiar handle it. - These don't override your gear. Though Relic armors or robes will either go over your current attire, or under based on if you are wearing Knight like armor or not. - However, if you wish for your clothing to shift to reflect your style, that is fine. But you should state what is overrides if you wish it to. Familiar Sizes and movement types. - Just basically gives me a way to gauge how they fight, move and function. - The sizes basically mean how likely they are to draw attention or stay hidden. - And how far they may or may not reach. Trance: Basically a form of sheer will and power. All attributes pretty much increase, as well as getting additional abilities you may not otherwise have by normal means. - The way Trance is activated is through stress and emotions. So tension can induce this. - Your body can shift form due to the sheer power. Such as changing figure a bit. Pros- Your Strengths. Extremely fast, hard to hit and has devastating counters, lots of experience as a professional soldier and mercenary. Her debuffs devastate the enemy's abilities as fight goes on. Cons- Your weaknesses. Dependent on dodges, has low health, doesn't have magic besides her familiar's. Racial Strengths- Can use multiple weapons Racial Weaknesses- Limited magics beside those of her familiar Sets: Leave this blank for the time being. All this is, is equipment sets. Usually just outfits and items that you switch between. Background: Wylde was born in the capital of Alexandria. Daughter of a small noble, it was decided she will be a member of the military since the day she was born. As a young child she showed extreme promises as she seemed to be a natural athlete. By the age of 17 she had proven she is indeed worthy of the army and was already considered an accomplished duelist with great potential. The life in the army didn't suit her though. She was always catching herself looking in the far distance and down towards the misty lands, yearning to go out on her own into the vast open world. Many times during guard duty, she would sneak away into the library to read of distant lands and monsters that one couldn't see near Alexandria. It was two months after her 17th birthday that she finally decided she will leave the army and head out on her own. Her choice was not received well by her family and her superiors, but she had already decided and there was no way anyone would stop her really once her mind was made up. She left her uniform behind and set out with the first airship that left the capital. She didn't even ask where they were headed, she was going to find out when they arrived!</s> <|message|>Karnrad Allard "Technically, your blade also can't kill a flan. And some other critters out there." Blank pointed out with a smirk and a slight shrug of his muscled shoulders. "And hey, if Karn can fight with just fists and feet all the time, pretty much anything can be weaponized. Just certain things are better for certain situations." he mused. Karn on the other hand, was on the main deck again. Ears perking a little from up above in the sails as she heard someone down below. Seeing it was just Wylde, the feline lept down, landing above the door before falling foreword. Toes pressing hard against the roofing as she hung upside down and came face to face to her crewmate. Arms crossed over her chest casually, though her left hand moved up to shift her goggles away from her eyes and up to rest on her forehead. "Oh I'm glad you're here. Now that we're both here... This ship certainly is sailing wouldn't you say?" the feline spoke with a slight smirk at the cheesy joke she made, ears twitching gingerly as she playfully wiggled her eyebrows at the remark.</s> <|message|>Itzal (No known Surname) Itzal smiled softly and catlike, "I've been well, thank you your highness. How of yourself?" He asked, tilting his head in curiosity. He had never really spoken to the princess, mostly out of fear of what to even to begin to say to her. While he pretended to show off more self confidence than he really possessed, he still had the nagging fear that he would mess up and embarrass himself, or even worse offend someone in some manner. Before he knew it, he found the sudden courage to ask, "... Why exactly are you fighting for? You do realize that... You're fighting against someone who has raised you..." He couldn't believe how far he was going with this question, but a part of him had to know. He had to know why someone would turn against their kin. Itzal sighed heavily before bowing deeply, "Forgive me, your highness... I spoke out of place..." He whispered, starting to turn away.</s> <|message|>Hitori Hitori looked at the Necklace and smiled. He extended his thin tongue to taste the spiritual essence on the Jewel and shuddered in a perverse sort of bliss, "Oh my, GAHD, I almost forgot about you. Enjoying your home?" Hitori spoke to the Jewel as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out some leaves and a silver powder. He took the Necklace and began breaking it down except for the Crystal and reweaving it anew to properly house the gem, "You know that Perrin boy offered us Pizza. Do you remember when I showed you how to make Pizza? Those were simpler times dear Obsidian Butterfly. We should have accepted some, I suppose that would have been the properly polite thing to do, It smelled nice....I'm sorry but how was the Necklace broken dear Cassius? I thought I made the Bonds tighter than the promise that flames will burn." Hitori said as his long dexterous fingers rewove the bonds of the amulet. "As for their eyes, Yellow as the Golden Kernels of Corn or the Blazing petals of a Sun Flower. Just like the Strange people of the Queens but these were those blokes who fancy themselves Crow Spirits, imagine the sheer pomp of that." Hitori just casually gossiped as they were at least confirmed they were to be in danger. Nothing is more relaxing than that affirmation, the real worry is all in fretting over if you actually are in danger or not. He just calmly continued to make the necklace whole again. ______ Ritsu walked in to see Perrin sitting by his lonesome eating pizza, "Hello Mr. Perrin, awfully lonesome place to be eating. Did you make that yourself?" The thief asked in his friendly way.</s> <|message|>Gerren 'Perrin' Paragon Perrin had been eating through the fourth slice of pizza out of sixteen or so before someone else had walked into the engine rooms. He would quickly chow down through the remaining slice or so before returning the greeting. "Well hello there!" He said somewhat excitedly having encountered another seemingly friendly person. He would place the pizza and its current wooden board holder across his lap. "Well yes I certainly did make it myself! The cooks did not seemed to bothered by me trying to make something although I was somewhat worried I may have missed an ingredient or two but tastes fine enough." He would say proudly about himself. Hiding a small jar that was at his side hidden by his sheer mass alone. He had been tempted to use it moments ago before Ritsu had come in, simply because. "Wandering around the ship for a while seemed to lead me here. So… here I am." Perrin would shrug with a wide smirk across his lips. "Would you mind staying here to try some?" He would gesture to come over with his left hand. His eyes in turn seemed to shine expectantly.</s> <|message|>Ritsu Hanuman "I don't see why not, I'm open to trying new things." Ritsu said as he sat down next to Perrin and accepted the slice, he barely noticed the Jar that Perrin was trying to conceal but he noticed in anyways. "This is rather tasty Mr. Perrin, what is it exactly?" Ritsu asked as he bit into the Pizza, "Also if you don't mind me being nosy whatcha got in the Jar there?" Ritsu asked as he gestured to the jar. The rest of his "Crewmates" could be a bit weird but he felt the need to at least try to get to know them on some level, he felt like he knew the Fox way too well at this point for his liking but that was neither here nor now. The Dish though was actually rather tasty, part of him thought Cassius would more than likely like it as well. He might have to try his hand at making it for his beloved some other time.</s> <|message|>Gerren 'Perrin' Paragon Perrin was rather uplifted by having a new guest next to him. Well, not a guest perhaps seeing as the ship wasn't his but someone else to talk to for a few moments. There was a brief moment of guilt that flashed across his face from having eaten a good chunk of the pizza but there was nothing that could be done about it. "Thank you." Perrin's grin grew to the shape of a crescent. "Well, I believe it's a pizza or that is the name that I was told. I put together a few manner of things though it'd be much easier if I showed ya how to make one than for me to list all the ingredients." He chuckled and brushed the back of his head. The names of the ingredients' had slipped Perrin's mind at the moment but he well knew that he could manage to slap another one together! It was more fun to actually put the food together instead of just hearing about what it was made of after all, or at least to him. Perrin would briefly look surprised and even a bit nervous as Ritsu gestured toward the jar and had asked about it. He would in turn try to pick it up and lean toward the sides to try and hide the contents of the jar, before trying to slide it away in his pack. "Nothing, nothing important that needs to be worried about. Just something I was thinking about doing but nothing interesting, really!" He chuckled with a slight guilty tone to it. He'd rather not reveal the contents of the jar, it may disturb the minds of those dare looked inside and connected the contents to the exact purpose!</s>

<|message|>Wylde Ostera "Wow, Carn…" Wylde replied at first with a smirk." Sure is. I just hope this doesn't end in a CATasthrope though." The duelist replied and reached a hand and placed it on Karn's cheek, gently caressing it as one would with a kitten." You sure know how to do some FLYing remarks. Just don't let the rest CRASH into them by chance." She continued with the bad flying&ship puns. "Now stop HANGing around like that. All your blood will get to your head!" Wylde stated and moved close in order to catch the feline girl and help her get on her legs without much difficulty." I have to say that I apPAW you for that jumt though! It was great!" The woman stated with a smirk. "So my cute friend, what do you think of the princess?" Wylde asked her feline friend." She's a little different form what I remember, but it's been quite a few years."</s>

<|description|>Fyodor Leo Konstantinovich (insists on being called 'The Ghoulish Rider, Traveler of the Highway of Hell'. Yes, in full.) Sex: Misanthrope Motorcyclist Age: 17 House: Stardust House Duel Disk RUNNER: Fyodor's duel runner is a sleek, black motorcycle with no rims inside the wheels. When it is running it gives off a faint orange neon glow in the wheels and inside the wheels. His duel runner has an attachable component for his duel disk which Konstantinovich can remove and use separately if he so chooses. The duel disk is black and has a dark orange blade which is shaped like a scythe. Personality: Konstantinovich is a rather miserable man. He is a bitter curmudgeon and lone wolf. While he claims to hate humanity alongside constantly wishing death among them, he does in fact yearn for people to be near him. This is solely because he wants people to be around to hear his dark and brooding monologues that he is fond of. The only things he truly loves are reveling in the mayhem of darkness and motorcycles. History: Fyodor Leo Konstantinovich was a 'little miracle' to his family, namely because this was the first time his father was able to properly spawn a child with his wife. The boy who would become The Ghoulish Rider, Traveler of the Highway of Hell, lived in a cold, but not terribly dreary, cozy little town. From an early age Fyodor had a troubling temperament that worried those around him. He was always off on tangents of doom and despair and claiming he was sent by the Devil to make sure the world of man would be cloaked in his vision. In order to help cure this boy's melancholy his father made him work in his garage. For a brief period of time, it seemed that Fyodor was getting better as the boy did like getting to help in the workshop. This was not the case, as Fyodor was simply biding his time to create a Duel Runner. At the stroke of midnight he rode from his home and across the bleak and snowy landscape to find other settlements of population to torment. He caused mayhem for quite sometime until he got involved in a crash accident, in which police were finally able to apprehend him. While it seemed likely Fyodor was doomed to perish in prison for the rest of his days, a Japanese man showed up out of the blue and managed to get the boy off scot-free. Well not exactly scot-free, because in exchange for freedom from prison he was essentially told that he would go to the Saotome Duel Institute. Wish: To dance with the devil in the pale moonlight, after ensuring the world was engulfed by darkness and sin. [SOLAR LEGACY] Dokurorider Heisei, Absolute Sovereign of the Damned Level 8 Dark type Zombie/Synchro/Effect monster 3000 / 2800 (1 Zombie type tuner monster + Dokurorider) As long as this card is on the field, your opponent cannot target anything else on your side of the field and can only attack this card. If this card is sent from the field to the graveyard, you can banish 1 zombie-type monster from the graveyard: Special Summon this card. Monster Card Mechanic of Dokurorider Level 6 DARK Zombie/Tuner/Effect monster 1500 / 730 When this card is tributed for the Ritual Summon of "Dokurorider", you can special summon this card and its level becomes 2. Spell Card He's Going the Distance Equip Equip only to a "Dokurorider" monster. When an attack is declared involving the monster this card is equipped to, target up to three of your banished Zombie-type monsters: Shuffle that target(s) back into the deck. If you do, draw a card. MONSTERS - 30 Castle of Dark Illusions x1 Pumpking the King of Ghosts x1 Pumprincess the Princess of Ghosts x2 Clown Zombie x1 Armored Zombie x1 Dragon Zombie x1 Plaguespreader Zombie x3 Spirit Reaper x1 Pyramid Turtle x3 Il Bud x3 Zombie Master x3 Mezuki x2 Ghostrick Ghoul x2 Ghostrick Mummy x1 Ghostrick Skeleton x1 Ghostrick Warwolf x1 Summoned Skull x1 Dokurorider x1 Mechanic of Dokurorider* x1 SPELLS - 16 Revival of Dokurorider x1 Zombie World x2 Pyramid of Wonders x1 Temple of the Sun x1 Call of the Mummy x1 Foolish Burial x2 Book of Life x3 Pre-Preparation of Rites x1 Everliving Underworld Cannon x2 Overpowering Eye x1 He's Going the Distance x1* TRAPS - 11 Call of the Haunted x2 Dark Illusion x2 Escape from the Dark Dimension x2 Shiranui Style Samsara x2 Tutan Mask x2 Trap of the Imperial Tomb x1 EXTRA DECK MONSTERS Revived King Has Des x1 Dokurorider Heisei, Absolute Sovereign of the Damned x1 [SOLAR LEGACY] MONSTERS - 30 Castle of Dark Illusions x1 Pumpking the King of Ghosts x1 Pumprincess the Princess of Ghosts x2 Clown Zombie x1 Armored Zombie x1 Dragon Zombie x1 Plaguespreader Zombie x3 Spirit Reaper x1 Pyramid Turtle x3 Il Bud x3 Zombie Master x3 Mezuki x2 Ghostrick Ghoul x2 Ghostrick Mummy x1 Ghostrick Skeleton x1 Ghostrick Warwolf x1 Summoned Skull x1 Dokurorider x1 Mechanic of Dokurorider* x1 SPELLS - 16 Revival of Dokurorider x1 Speed Spell - Advanced Ritual Art x1 Speed Spell - Tribute to the Doomed x3 Speed Spell - Brain Control x1 Speed Spell - The Shallow Grave x2 Speed Spell - Acceleration Limiter x3 Speed Spell - Faustian Bargain x2 Speed Spell - Final Attack x1 Speed Spell - High Speed Crash x2 TRAPS - 11 Call of the Haunted x2 Dark Illusion x2 Escape from the Dark Dimension x2 Shiranui Style Samsara x2 Tutan Mask x2 Trap of the Imperial Tomb x1 EXTRA DECK MONSTERS Revived King Has Des x1 Dokurorider Heisei, Absolute Sovereign of the Damned x1 [SOLAR LEGACY]</s> <|message|>Katsuragi Tekkan Bug Tekkan watched from behind as the biker entered the garage, making another salute. "Good luck, Leader! I hope you find what you need!" Having said his piece, the youth stood in front of the doors, doing sentry duty to make sure no one disturbed the Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of hell. It may take a while for anything to happen, but Tekkan was determined to serve his leader as best he could.</s> <|message|>Lua Murasaki Kyou Lua was glad she had gone with his plan, not only for fairness, but also because he didn't want to have their friendship tarnished by a card game, or at least he assumed that such a thing would happen, not everyone could take a loss very well. Even if she didn't loose, then he'd feel more of a failure. Walking with her he had to admit, as quirky as she was she had a lot of good ideas. As she began to pull the cookies out, the smell of sugar inticed him. He moved to her, slowly putting his hand out as she offered them. "That would be wonderful, thank you" Kyou</s> <|message|>Fushi Ryunosuke, Phantom Duelist of Saotome Academy Bug@GarlandDaHero When the demonic detective entered the bus garage, Professor Furiko moved to the side to turn on the lights. Its head seemed trained on the two students, watching their every move, moving to check to see whether Tekkan was still at the door every now and again.. On the third bus from the door that the group had come through, one of the windows was very obviously marred. The Professor did not say anything as the two might soon find out that all the doors to the buses were locked, though a key ring was located somewhere within the garage.</s> <|message|>Fyodor Leo Konstantinovich (insists on being called 'The Ghoulish Rider, Traveler of the Highway of Hell'. Yes, in full.) The Investigation Begins. The Demonic Detective fiddled with his duel disk to get an appropriate mood set up for his investigation; that's when the lights turned on. The Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell placed his palms together as he looked around the scene. From this starting point the garage seemed to be of an average design, with nothing in particular standing out. But what kind of occasional Demonic Detective be if The Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell didn't thoroughly examine the investigation scene? He stretched out his hands with his palms facing outwards, "Finally, I can proceed with my investigation." Fyodor slowly strode through the garage as saxophones played. The first bus didn't seem special, just a standard model. Then came the second which was the same as the first. But the third bus caught his eye. Konstantinovich went closer to take a look. "Window's been smashed harder than a Hitotsu-Me Giant against a Big Shield Gardna; but not shattered." The Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell took a moment to reflect on the statement and the scene. Briefly he focused upon simply breaking into that vehicle, but presumably if that window didn't shatter from what was likely his assault on the bus it wasn't getting broken into any time soon. He'd try that method later. For now the Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell and Demonic Detective would wax some poetics as he searched around the outside of the marred bus for any other abnormalities, such as loose hubcaps, strangely blocked exhaust pipes and potential compartments. "The sun keeps on shining as the world acts like everything is just peachy. As for me, I skulk in these dark alleys they call Mystery. Like a rat I scavenge for the missing pieces that the rest of man leaves behind; it's the only way to solve the case. And now I've wormed into this place. Lights brighter than the gleaming sun out there, but the leads are still in the dark. So I'll keep searching like the Devil in the Desert until I find that one piece..."</s> <|message|>Yukishima Ayami Ayami shook her head no in response to Matt's question; browsing the shop was simply her priority, and her one-track mind had ended up leading her to want to buy packs. As it was right now, though, nothing in particular caught her eye. Nothing too important to buy as of yet, it seemed... Which was fine. For now, she could just buy a box or something; the problem then, though, was picking which box to pick... "...Hm... I can't make this choice. Too many to pick from," she sighed, shaking her head before turning to Matt. "Pick a set for me, please." Before she could go back to looking through the displays for something interesting, though, another group standing off to the side seemed to be vying for her attention. The girl, apparently enough, was trying to goad her into Dueling someone... Which, considering how she had just forfeited the tournament... Probably wasn't going to have any major significance in the end. "Ah... I don't believe I've the right to challenge anyone for this tournament, to be quite frank," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Rather than that, I've come here to look for cards to make my deck better; that would imply I don't believe it would have enough strength as it is, no?" Something about the other girl's demeanor made Ayami thoroughly wary--she couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly, but that premonition was enough to keep her wary for the moment.</s> <|message|>Carnel Novell Kyou@manapool1 Carnel was a bit disappointed to see that the Duel would not be happening, but that was fine. There would undoubtedly be plenty of other opportunities to gather information. "I don't mind at all. Lead the way," Carnel responded to Rumi's invitation. Carnel also accepted her cookies and took a bite out of one. They were a bit hard and crumbly, nothing like the soft and chewy ones he was used to eating back home. However, he attributed that to the fact that the ones he ate back home were usually fresh out of the oven. Besides, it wasn't like it tasted bad. He popped the rest into his mouth, savoring it before finishing it off.</s> <|message|>Fushi Ryunosuke, Phantom Duelist of Saotome Academy Bug@GarlandDaHero Professor Furiko waited silently as the Ghoulish Rider and Sinful Sleuth searched between the buses, finally finding what he was looking for. Though he had noticed the student attempt to break in, the robot professor did neither assist nor stop him. It was as if he were anticipating something. Then, in Tekkan's view, a blue Toyota truck with various tools in the back had parked just in front of the school's gates, and out of them, a tan-skinned, gruff looking Japanese man, who slid out of the truck with a toolbox in hand. Clearly, he was a mechanic. "Hey kid. You're one of the students here right? If you are, I'm gonna go in. I'm one of the school's mechanics." "Ain't no worries baby girl. What you doin' changin' yo deck right in the middle of the thing though? I don't know if it be cheatin'. Ain't no rules saying you can't..." the girl tapped her chin for a second... "actually hey. That ain't a bad idea. Maybe I'll do it next time."</s>

<|message|>Fyodor Leo Konstantinovich (insists on being called 'The Ghoulish Rider, Traveler of the Highway of Hell'. Yes, in full.) Using a sensitive touch and keen eye, that enigma wrapped around in riddles and clad in pure black known as The Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell and Sinful Sleuth felt something in exhaust pipe of the bus. Konstantinovich mused, "Every dame has got got her secrets, what're you hiding in that sensitive area?" The Demonic Detective placed his fingers in the exhaust pipe and continued to feel around, "Oh. I know you're hiding something, and I'm gonna take it." Fyodor said as he fished out a ring with keys on it. There was certainly an expression on The Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell's face underneath that helmet; but that was just between him and the Devil. "But why would a key-ring be hidden there...? The case grows even more curious than that forty-percent scrapmetal robot." Fyodor mused aloud as he walked around back to the front of the bus. "Now let's see if we can get a closer look here." spoke The Ghoulish Rider - Traveler of the Highway of Hell and Demonic Detective as he began going through the assorted keys and looking to see which ones were similar to the bus lock. The Sinful Sleuth began testing these 'probable' keys by inserting them into the lock and trying to open the bus.</s>

<|description|>Torrent, formerly Rain Theme: Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy Gender: Female Species: Lessereurm Appearance: Green with blue mixed in. She looked like a fantasy version of a skink lizard, her head being more bony with scaly outcrops along her snout and over the ridges on her eyes. Though she had no back legs, her front limbs had become somewhat longer and stronger. While she didn't have true thumbs, her claws had been reduced to three digits, two of which were longer and the third of which was shorter, thicker, and set at an angle to the others. It was a bit like a human's hand making a constant "Spock-hand" by holding the index-middle and pinky-ring fingers in pairs and curling the thumb. The joints of these "fingers" and the natural curl of her claws gave her a stronger grip that she could feel even as she began to pull herself along the ground--she would be able to pull, or to scoop and dig, quite fast if she felt so inclined. She was roughly twice as long as her previous form, though not so heavy-set throughout her body. As her tail instinctively lashed behind her, she would likely feel confident that she could easily contort herself in a variety of shapes. Goals: Rain has only a few major goals: -Follow any instructions from the mysterious Demon King -Make the most of this second chance, no matter the cost -Become the King's favorite, at any cost (selfish reasons, really) Past Life: There were few things more important to Rain in her short life than secrecy, alertness, and speed. She was not stronger than most, she was not at healthy as most, but with those three key factors helped to keep her alive and ahead in the dirty streets of an unnamed slum deep in the heart of Detroit. Born to teen parents who didn't want her, it was a life of hardship from the start. She looked to her parents and was left wanting, before being abandoned at the age of six. She was a street urchin with a lack of trust and a thirst for better. She scraped by, year after year, by honing these skills and not being afraid to be ruthless with the other filth left in the gutter, the gangs and the deranged. Her life, however, was cut short by someone just a bit smarter and faster than she was, who happened to slip a knife between her ribs at the age of 16. Given a second chance, she's going to do it right this time. Transformations: Fanged Lizard -- Lesserwurm Inventory:</s> <|message|>Ashlyn Irving ~Forest outside the Cavern~ Throat Pouch: - 5x empty slots. Rawhide Backpack - 5 slots --- Some might have been dismayed by the lack of information from this analysis, but this provided much needed information regardless of what was given. She needed more Analysis skills. She had to find a way to acquire them, but this was a good starting point. Perhaps at higher levels it could tell her what parts on a living creature could be useful. Magic Analysis was mildly more helpful. Lesserwurm. It has some spell skills. Curious, she'd have to ask what it was and if she could potentially learn it herself once a little less pressed for time. "The usual annoyances of life," Ash replied when asked what happened to Torrent. "Ran into a few pixies, helped me survive the night after that. Dunno what happened to them - they fluttered off, but one was kind enough to give me a crash course in magic. Ran into Reoth and made friends with one of the goblins - another human like us, I believe. Evolved into a Pygmy Drake, negotiated a bit of a...ceasefire with them, but we'd do well not to let our guard down around them for now, and well, here we are." A brief version of events, but it covered the main points. As she finished, arriving at the others, a chill crept down her reptilian spine. Something felt odd. Not just the fact she still didn't entirely feel comfortable in this lizard body, something else. The feeling of being watched. Pausing and sitting straight up, Ash held her head high, swiveling her neck around at her immediate surroundings. Nothing...? Was she being paranoid? But if this skill was working as intended, then...Ash glanced up at the sky, just barely seeing the shadow of a large, circling creature flying over the forest. Well, that was certainly not good. She didn't have time to try and use any of her analysis skills, but it was most certainly some sort of predator. She'd need to watch out for it. Lowering her head, Ash let the others look after Mourn as she observed the surroundings. Seemed like all of them were fairly eager to hunt and get started. "If anyone could bring anything they find to me, I would very much appreciate it." Ash began. "I might be able to make something out of them. Healing items or some such." Glancing over to Ardur, the Pygmy Drake paused. "Well, I supposed perhaps some introductions are in order. I am Ash, for those I have yet to meet." She walked over to Ardur, glancing at his gathered berries and leaves. "Any ideas what these are, Ardur?" Eager to find out what they were and what they did, Ash activated her Alchemy and Magic analysis skills.</s> <|message|>Asura Asura had only shared snippets but again Mother Slime pulled away, too much information once more. Or to much of his personality. Were slimes really that easy to manipulate by someone with a mind link and a stronger will power? He didn't wish to test this on her since she was his ally and they had helped each other. "I'll share more information later on through our minds. Just try to hit things as hard as you can with all your weight." H explained. When she mentioned eating he pointed towards Rattleskull's remains. "Take some more of that. Don't eat all of it. Rationing your food makes it last longer instead of just taking it in all at once."[/color] Asura explained while he continued to Move up the wall to make himself cling more. Using his liquid body to find any hidden nooks to fill to hold on better. Call Skill List. He thought, he wanted to try and see his skills again to get a bead on any progress made. He was starting to get frustrated that he was growing so slowly. It felt like the others did something a few times and they had a skill whereas he spent the past two days gaining few skills despite heavily practicing them in ways he actually knew how.</s> <|message|>Ardur Ardur The Pixie Adventure? > Curiosity! /// Adventuring day 4 // Morning / Location - forest > Cave entrance The pixie watched the others for a little while. Talking amongst themselves about what they have been doing and what has been done. Clearly they all know each other, hell he probably knows some of them as well. A wisp, a lesserwurm, a goblin, the pygmy drake, a strange looking thing he's not too sure about but kind of looks like a wisp and a pixie had a baby, and lastly there was the albino that was at a disadvantage camouflage wise. Ash slowly made her way over towards him and the pile of berries and leaves he accumulated. "Don't know exactly, but there is a lot of them and the goblin's picked blue berry looking things for food last night. Probly not ripe yet or not something you want to eat." He just shrugged and smiled as he picked up three of the leaves. These leaves didn't seem to irritate him to bad and he did want to try and blend in a bit more out here. Ardur took the three leaves toward a muddy patch of dirt. He then began to take his spider silk harness off and twist it together in a belt fashion. Weaving the leaves around him for a loin cloth and tying them off with the silk. Feeling satisfied with his new clothes the pale pixie began to mix the dirt and mud below him. Taking scoops of mud in his hands, the pixie began to smear the mud over his body. Turning his pale body to a light brown, hesitating when he reached the black dots on his chest. Now that he felt like he was more suited for life in the forest he did want to do one more thing before going back into the forest with the others, "I'll be along shortly I want to try something." The pixie flew to the mouth of the cave and starred in. about five feet out into the grass patch while the goblins worked diligently nearby. Holding up his right hand toward the darkness of the cave and grasping his forearm with his left hand for support. Using the distance between his index finger and thumb on his right hand Ardur began to channel his mana into his palm and imagined how Crispy explained the fire ball spell to Orchid earlier. His mind went back to what started this idea, old fantasy movies where the spell caster used a chant to empower a spell. He could only hope that this would work, standing in the grass and basking in the sunlight he began to speak, "Fire burns, Inferno rages, Consume and destroy, Cleanse and Purify, Feel the wrath of the sun and rejoice in its light. Fireball!" angling his shot up so it could fly a bit further if Fireball I does have drop and he let it loose through the cave opening. Level: 4 Health: Full Mana: Full Stamina: Full Inventory: Clothes: Spider silk belt and leaf loin cloth, mud coating. Weapons: N/A Magic/Skills: Shield II, Lesser Flight III, Minor Heal III, Physical Conditioning I, Fire Resistance I, Taming I, Fireball I, Stronger I Kills for current level: Other:</s> <|message|>Danny Aqua Sphere I turned out even better then expected, since Danny could use without acces to water, though if he had known about the fishing dire rat he wouldn't have just shot it into the water. On the plus side he did have an idea on dealing with Crispy if he planned to betray Jason during the meeting. Before returning to the core and discussing his plans he wanted to master one more skill which he was already close to learning anyway. Using his Mana Shape I he once again tried shaping one of his mana orbs into a dart. Due to him accidentally troubling someone with his last practice shot he made sure to aim it somewhere where he thought it wouldn't disturb anyone. Abilities: * Mana Orb I and II * Lesser Force II * Levitation * Monster Analysis II * Meditate I * Mana Shape I * Aqua Sphere I</s>

<|message|>Torrent, formerly Rain Torrent nodded along to Ash's quick recap of prior events. They really had diverged their paths after being split up. It was kinda interesting to see the differences, honestly. As she inspected the bark, mildly pleased at the results, she glanced over at the requested dig. Simple enough. Digging up what Oberon wanted was simple. But she didn't forget she was still in unfamiliar lands, and so she kept her guard up. Back in the city there were the occasional stray that was pretty mean, and rats were surprisingly common. Ignoring the gangs and it still wasn't a safe place, and she didn't believe for a moment that the woods were safe either. There was a reason they got dropped in that cave, she was sure of it. But she had no one to confirm anything. "Why'd you make us so weak?" she muttered, thinking about the Demon King. She could've done so much more of she were more than a week old or something. She honestly didn't have any concept of time, but she knew it'd been at least a week. Really though, he wanted them for something and he just.... Plopped them somewhere with nothing. Barely their own memories, even. Sure she grew quickly, but she's almost died. A lot, actually. She'd had to grow to become a killer just to survive and... Well, she kinda liked it. But that didn't excuse this Demon King in her mind. She wanted answers. Not dumb riddles and memories she can't remember.</s>

<|description|>Kathryn (Kat) Monroe Gender: Female Age: 22 Birthplace: Eagle Ridge, Nevada Appearance: Personality: Kat can seem cold at times, but she is just reserved. Even before the outbreak she didn't like to rely on people or let them be a major part of her life because in her experience they move on after a while and leave. You get one chance with her and if you give her BS she will not only call you on it she will not let you forget it. But where her baby is concerned she is the exact opposite. Kat is warm and loving towards her baby, almost like a split personality considering how she responds to everyone else. Try to hurt or take her baby, you will wish the walkers had gotten to you first. Occupation before the breakout: Blackjack Dealer at the Diamond Casino in Las Vegas Skills: persuasive excellent BS meter (cuz of calling bluffs and spotting card counters on her former job) quick reflexes (again, former job) knows a few pressure point moves but is not an expert fighter can fire a gun and is an average shot Fears/incompetencies: she will do anything to keep her baby safe and if her baby is in danger she tends to not think clearly making her rush into things blindly has a temper and can get loud when angered quick to judge people not very forgiving can be cold and doesn't seem to like people, but doesn't want to be alone Equipment: Bag with a few baby supplies (a bottle, a pacifier, a few baby clothes and makeshift diapers, ect) small pocket knife canteen matches a change of clothes crackers and jerky small mirror (for signaling) hair brush (handle is broken) Group: on her own in an abandoned house History: Kathryn was born to a Russian immigrant mother and a dead beat alcoholic father. Her mother died from sickness when Kat was a teenager and she hasn't seen her father in years. The move to Las Vegas was a good change from the moderate sized town she was born and raised in. She got a job quickly as a dishwasher at the Diamond Casino. She worked her ass off and the boss noticed, promoting her quickly because of her hard work and dedication to the job. She moved up in rank to waitress and bartender before switching to the floor. She has been a blackjack dealer for over a year and is excellent at her job, knowing how to flirt to keep the people in their seats but having a steel spine to make them leave when they were no longer wanted. She had very few friends, no romantic attachments and no responsibilities to anyone but herself and she liked it that way. Then one night a handsome man with an accent to die for sat at her table. He impressed her with his bluffing and his kind nature. They talked and she found herself telling him things she hadn't told to people she'd known for months let alone hours. After hours of playing, talking and drinking she found herself inviting him back to her room... The next morning she left before he woke, leaving only a note to thank him for everything and enough money to cover the drinks he had bought her. Nine months later she got the results of that one night stand : a beautiful baby girl with her father's blonde hair and sweet nature. For the first time in a long time Kat found herself loving something more than herself. When the outbreak happened she swore to do anything to protect her baby. And she has... She thinks about Grace's father sometimes, wondering where he is now and if he is still alive. She dreads the day that Grace is old enough to wonder where he is and asks questions that Kat can't answer. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kat's baby girl - Grace</s> <|message|>Ethan Blackledge Ethan Blackledge Clouds completely covered the sky, with smoke still clearly visible from the north of a group who were running the opposite way. They'd reached the coast pretty quickly and gone east following the coast line. The survivors had not stopped running since the walkers had swarmed their home and destroyed everything they'd been building over the past year. There was only eleven people who managed to get out of the town together and they had no clue if anyone else had gotten out of there. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the first five minutes of escaping. Ethan, one of the survivors, thought to himself that it was best not to say anything. Letting everyone come to terms with what had just happened as they continued to move down the coast. ————————————————————————————————————————— An hour later, they still hadn't stopped moving, still following the coast with the smoke slowly fading into the distance. Their speed had started to get slower and slower and you could hear everyone breathing getting heavier as well. "Stop…" Ethan said in an out of breath tone. "We need to take a minute to catch our breathes... One of us is going to pass out in a minute." Ethan slowed down to a walk then stopped completely putting his hands on his head breathing in as much as he could. The highway road that they'd been going down was covered in cars that had slowly started to rust over the past year. Everyone had decided to agree with Ethan and started to lean against the cars or sit on the floor. Ethan took off his rucksack and chucked it on top of a car bonnet and grabbed his map and the bottle of water out and taking a sip and passing it towards Walter. A pretty quiet guy but Ethan was really fond of him. He'd been on a few scavenging trips with Walter and they'd all gone well, Ethan trusted him. He was also glad to see Alex, sometimes it was hard to talk to him because of the slight language barrier, but he knew quite a bit on medicine and in these times it was one of the best traits somebody could have. Ethan laid out the map on the bonnet, looking it over to see where there next stop could be. "We'll keep moving down the coast until the sun starts to go down." Ethan said out loud thinking to himself. "Then find a house to stay for the night…" There was houses all the way down the highway and as far as he could see. "The walkers will probably linger about in Dana Point for a while so we should have time to sleep. Anybody think we should do anything different?" Ethan looked around to see if anyone wanted to do something else. He knew everyone was clearly thinking about what had just occurred but he knew this wasn't the time or the place to actually start talking about it.</s> <|message|>Camyllia Akins ( Camy or Lia) Camyllia's heart pounded in her chest as she ran down the street away from her home tears running down her face. She refuses to turn her head to see if she was followed or not due to her panic state of mind. She dodges under the arms of a walker letting it fall and kept running. It wasnt' long that she came to a stop by an abandoned apartment building. Camyllia puts her hands behind her head and allowed air into her constricting lungs. "Oh man," She whispers putting her hands down and looking around. Camyllia had ran all the way to the beach she played at with her uncle. Letting out a smile she makes her way down the road to where some colorful houses going for the smaller but brighter blue one. Coming to a stop at the sidewalk watching a half walker groan on the lawn reaching out for her. Slowly making her way forward Camyllia saw who the walker was, Jannette, her uncles ex. "Sorry," She says pulling out her softball bat,"Can't have you aroun' Jan," Camyllia said her country twang coming out a bit. The walker reachedoutmore for her making the girl sigh before she swung with all her might caving the womans head in. Camyllia eye's began to water and she backed away her stomach churned and she held onto it gagging. Get ahold of your self Cammy! You're on your own! No wussy crap Coming over to the walker she rips her softball out of her head and goes to the still feeling sick to her stomach over what she had just done.</s>

<|message|>Kathryn (Kat) Monroe The small white house was off to the side of the main road. From the outside it looked abandoned : boarded up windows, overgrown yard, cobwebs everywhere... But inside there were two souls that called the little sanctuary home. Kat gently rocked the baby girl. She had been fed and given a bath, now it was nap time. But, being stubborn like her mother, the baby was refusing to go down without a fight. "Come on Gracey..." her mother cooed gently. "You're going to make me do it aren't you?" The baby girl's replied with a whine and reached for her mother's face. Kat sighed. "Alright then," she agreed and began to sing. "You are my sunshine, My only sunshine, You make me happy when skies are grey, You'll never know dear, How much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away... She continued softly, humming when not singing the words to the classic lullaby. It was the only thing that could make Grace sleep. Eventually the baby girl yawned and laid her head against her mommy's chest, closing her eyes. Kat gently and carefully laid her in the makeshift plan pen she had crafted from safety gates and twine. She made sure Grace had her little pink blanket that she wouldn't sleep without. Still humming, Kat picked up the shotgun, which now had no ammo but was still an effective intimidation tool, and went to the window to keep watch. A swarm of walkers had passed by during the night, which meant if any survivors were left in their wake they might be headed her way. If they thought a single mother with a baby would be an easy scavenging target, they had another thing coming...</s>

<|description|>Aaron Matthews --- Age: 21 Gender: Male Powers: Just your average guy, nothing special. Weakness: * School. My grades are fine but damn if it ain't boring as hell. * Clowns man...creepy bastards I can't stand them! * Mornings suck, people who are energetic at 6:00am get on my nerves. * My sister,well step-sister, we get along but she has powers and I don't so she kind of steals the spotlight whenever we are together but besides that we're cool. Skills: * Trespassing * Running * Climbing Hobbies: Skateboarding...it is life. Personality: I think I'm a pretty chill guy, it takes a lot to piss me off but most of the time I'm fine. Looking for a good time(wait not the way you think...or is it?) then I'm your guy because I'm up for almost anything EXCEPT CIRCUSES! I hate clowns. Background: My story isn't interesting until after my dad married my step-mom so i'll save you the boring details and say I was a stereotypical rebellious teen who loved skateboarding yada yada yada then BAM! My dad gets married again. Turns out dad's lady friend has a daughter and they both have a secret. Apparently the two of them are like magic elves or something I don't know. Our parents sent Kate to Orean Cause when they heard it had kids like her there and I was her tag along I guess. Likes: * Rocking out to my favorite music. Kate's band is pretty good when they do 90s rock. * Playing pranks on friends(or enemies) * Skateboarding around town * Hanging out wherever * Sneaking into places I shouldn't be at * Horror movies Dislikes: * Being asked about Kate, if your so interested in her then talk to her. * Staying in school longer than I have to, being with friends makes it bearable though. * I've been told I have problems with authority... oh well. * People who give skaters hell just for being skaters. We aren't all weed smoking bums. Take me for example, I'm a skater and all I do is break into places! See we ain't all that bad. Theme song: Sinister Kid by The Black Keys Clubs: Gaming Club is pretty much it, I try not to stick around school unless it's something involving Kate. Dorms don't change anything I'll only be there for sleeping most of the time. Dreams: I'm not looking to be famous or have tons of money. In truth I just want a nice place with good friends and good times. --- --- Kathryn Griffin The pic doesn't show it but I have green eyes..incase you were wondering --- Nicknames: Kate, Kathy, Kat, Kathriani(my elf name but it's only used between family...also when mom and dad are angry at me) Age: 21 Gender: Female Powers: Being an elf...I should probably explain that a bit more. Okay so forget the idea that elves today are those lanky forest people shooting arrows. In truth most of us stopped that once humans began to advance and we've lived in secret among humans for a while now. I'd say around The Age of Exploration was when we decided that hiding was no longer an option. If I remember correctly the only elves still living separate from humans are in the Amazon. Alright so back to me, as an elf I have a connection to nature as you can guess. I'm not some kind of hippie going around protesting every tree being taken down but I do tend to get upset about deforestation and large scale destruction of nature. Ok maybe I am somewhat of a hippie but still is it wrong to care about the earth? Ugh I keep getting off track. Ok ok so since I'm connected to nature I am very good with animals, like it's crazy how well I can handle them. Give me a wild bear and I'll have it eating out of my hands in mere minutes. Sometimes I can even possess animals but that takes a bit out of me when I try so I can only do it for a short time. That's animals, this is where it gets interesting. I don't know the scientific explanation for it but I'll explain as best I can. Plants are connected, the trees in a forest or the flowers in a garden are grouped in this kind of plant neighborhood. So like good neighbors they communicate to let each other know whats happening. Plants can exchange information about their surroundings and I can be a part of that neighborhood as long as I have an exposed part of my body-preferably my hands-on a plant in that group. Once I do I can get information on everything happening in and around that forest. How the plants interpret the information is beyond me but as for me I get it through a series of visions that come in and out of focus. Sometimes it's hard to get a good picture but if I focus hard enough I can block out whatever information I don't need and only receive visions I'm concerned with. Wow I didn't get sidetracked at all explaining that one...did I? Anyway, the last thing I have to tell you is the reason why humans haven't been able to find elves for so long. We have camouflage. No not like a hunter's coat like actual biological camouflage. It's more like an octopus' camouflage since our skin can change colors and texture to match the surrounding environment. But of course it only works in natural environments so I don't have an advantage at hide n seek in a house. Weakness: * If you haven't noticed by now I sometimes can ramble on when I talk about things. It's a habit, I like to talk to people so I say a lot and here I go rambling again.. * It's hard for me to stay angry at people, sure I can be upset but it's usually for a day or two at the most. You have to do something horrible for me to hold a grudge. * Poptarts. I don't know what it is about them but if I have one I have to have like seven or I'll go into withdrawal or something. Skills: * Playing my guitar * Singing * Surfing * Hiding. Camouflage or no I always find the best places to hide. Hobbies: * Playing bass guitar for my band. Sometimes I sing but most of the time it's Nathan. * Reading Personality: This is a hard one...I guess I'd describe myself as adventurous. While taking it easy every now and then is fine, doing nothing for too long kills me I like to get outside and explore. I'd say I'm very easy-going and amicable Background: City elves live like any other human, the only difference is well being an elf. My dad left when I was a baby, so my mom raised me on her own till I was about 12 when mom met Aaron's dad. The two of them got married a year later I've been step-sister to probably to probably the most stereotypical skater teen ever. Even so Aaron and I got along pretty fast, he's a fun guy and his ability to sneak into almost anywhere has come in handy when I needed to sneak out the house. He's even teaching me to ride a board which to be honest must be a pain because I can't stay on for more than five seconds before falling. So fast forward and my parents are sending me to Orean Cause since some students there are somewhat like me. I guess they were hoping I'd meet other elves. Thing is not all the students are "magical" so Aaron is coming with me to keep an eye on me(plus he got kicked out of our last school. Long story). At least I won't be alone on the first day. Likes: * Music, I'll listen to almost everything even death metal if I'm in the mood. * I like to try new things because it's an experience and you won't know if you like it unless you try it. * Being out and about. It sucks being stuck indoors all day. * Performing with my band. I don't mean to brag but we are pretty popular... ok we are pretty new but we've been at it for two years now and are getting pretty good. We haven't decided our genre so right now we do requests that way we get a sense of what we do best. * I love to swim, thankfully we have a pool in the backyard or I'd have to go to the community pool...yessh. Dislikes: * Macho tough guys. Seriously no one likes you. * Parties, as in the kinds that are just out of control and end up with half the people there passed out on the floor with puke on their faces. * Listen I know I'm an elf and I should love animals and I do I love all kinds...except snakes. Not because I think they are slimy they aren't it's that empty stare they have it's creepy as hell! Theme Song:The Rain by Oh Wonder Clubs: Music, Dance, Drama, and Gymnastics Dreams: More than anything I want to see the Amazonian Elves. Mom says they don't like city elves but I think it would be cool to see what we were like.</s> <|message|>Winifer May Poe Winifer Winifer was at a loss for words. 'Okay Kikka what do I do' Winifer asked just baffled. Kikka said nothing. 'No seriously like whats the best course of action here' Still nothing. 'Kikka' Winifer called out to her rather demandingly.'......play dumb' Kikka finally replied not much reassurance in her words. "I..........uhm.......that's something you don't see everyday" Winifer stumbled out. She looked at the girl still on the child's level. "What...uh.....what's your name I guess" Winifer asked looking over at the boy and back to the girl again. After the girl answered Winifer gave a small nod then turned to the boy standing up to her full height. "Sooooo....what exactly should I be making of all this." Winifer asked gesturing to the small child that had appeared. 'Your unusually talkative' Kikka noted almost like a complaint. 'A random girl just appeared I think it fits the situation' Winifer replied accidentally making an annoyed face.</s> <|message|>Ion Hinotoru Bride Bride was at utter shock too; he was about to take the tour that already started but then this girl who sort of looks like a mix of him and Allie who just hugged him. He didn't know who was this person and how did that person got there. "U-uhh-uh…." He just let the girl hug him but looking back at the three. He looked really confused and worried, he felt bad though that the little girl was just hugging him like she knew him but he really never seen the child in all of his life. Winnifer asked the girls name, maybe that would help...right at that moment he was really lost. "uummm…." Bride looked back at the tour and back at them, he didn't really want to miss it, even with maps he wasn't really good in directions and probably get lost within seconds. "S-sorry…b-but I do like to t-ake the t-our b-but….uummm" Bride to think of a way to not insult the girl that was hugging him.</s> <|message|>Aleksei Setlak Alex-Engineer By Nature 1:00PM the alarm sounded and Alex awaked,his room mate wasnt there strange ,now was time for lunch and he was hungry , he decided to go to the cafeteria and with him the papers of his new project , this new project is about scanning people with magical powers , he was going to use a complicated software to know if they are truly magic but in Alex words that means they have a strange radiation signal , he was working on this after he was accepted in Orean Cause , it took weeks for him to do 95% of the code which was a very high number for him , he decided to use a high modified cellphone to this as it is the portable device more capable for this . When he arrived the cafeteria he eated some sphaguetti , then something arrived to his mind he hadnt have contact with anyone not even a single word this could be good or bad , good because he doesnt want to be manipulated with some kind of mind reader and bad because he didnt talk no anyone normal too , he finished his food and started walking to his room with that thought.</s> <|message|>Edward Matthias Anthony Davidson "Glad ya like it, you can expect food like that every day now." Edward finished off the Spaghetti in silence and afterwards went towards his computer, "Now, if you don't mind, my fans expect another video from me today, and don't question what I just said, we have a deal." Edward turned towards the computer and put on his headphones, "Hey Guys, I know you are probably expecting another game today but I've decided to just talk to you guys for a few minutes to update ya. My roommate seems pretty cool and I don't think he'll tell anyone who I am, besides I have something to hold over his head so he won't talk." Edward walks over to Penn, "Would you like to say Hi to the fans, don't worry I have a voice modulator so no one will realize who you are."</s> <|message|>Penn Waiker Penn Penn ate the spaghetti also in silence but he didn't finish it, he was already full after just eating half of it. He put the plate back down on the table; since Edward was nice enough to cook food at least he should help. "I-I will clean u-up…"He stood up as Edward when back to his computer to do some video stuff…fans…he did want to question it but Penn decided to let it be, done anger the devil and who knows how a person can act when they angry, he tested before and it didn't work well for him at all. It was weird hearing Edward talk to people who weren't there, like some crazy people would do but then again….he draws yaoi that's another thing that is kind of weird. Penn had to take note though on why he was making videos, he heard of commentators but only though of them as people with no real jobs. Maybe he should not say that to him…. And he said something about holding something against him…shit that made things worst, what does the guy know? Did he look at his work? Paranoia filled him. He should really keep quiet now…As he was about to clean up Edward asked him if he would like to say hi to his fans. This was an obvious answer. "ah-ah…. N-no t-thanks…" he stepped back, avoiding to do anything with his fans or videos.</s>

<|message|>Aaron Matthews The walk to the dorm was enough to get Aaron fully awake and by now he was his usual self. After hearing Marci say she owed him a favor Aaron let out a little chuckle with a smile, "Pssh, no problem. But hey if you want maybe we all can hang out today? You, me, and my sister? Maybe grab some drinks or maybe mess around here at school?" It had been a while since Aaron last saw Jessie. The last time the two of them were together was after she and Kate's band had that big gig over the summer, mostly because Aaron was doing his own thing. . Looking back it was quite a fun time. After their performance the band went through the city just going wild. "Come to think of it I think we had to bail because someone called the cops on us...killjoys", he thought before bringing his attention back to the now. "Hey Jess, long time no see, how's it goin'?".</s>

<|description|>Christopher Valentine Nickname: Chris Gender: male Age: 19 Brief Personality: Chris is probably one of the most laid back people you will ever meet. He usually is usually never mad, he has a very good reign on his emotions. Well he gets mad, obviously, he is just better at hiding it than most. Valentine is out going and social, and is actually really smart. He likes to pretend he is dumb just to catch people off guard as to further solidify his persona of being laid back. It's when Chris or his friends are in a dangerous situation when he becomes serious. He becomes calculating, but still calm. Chris will do anything to protect his friends and those close to him. He also will help any mutant in need because he knows how bad life can be as one and feels a sense of camaraderie. Chris is also a music enthusiast, and plays the guitar quite well. He won't admit it but he also writes songs and is a really good singer. But his singing is usually restricted to the shower or his notepads. Ability: Sunakinesis: User can create, shape and manipulate sand, a naturally occurring loose, fragmented/granular sedimentary material composed of finely divided rock and mineral particles ranging in diameter from 0.0625 mm (or 1⁄16 mm) to 2 mm. Limits to Ability: Liquids can make his sand heavier and harder to manipulate. Enough liquid can turn his sand into mud, which makes it virtually useless. Intense heat can turn his sand into glass but he would still be able to manipulate it. Age admitted into Riverwood: This is his first year Background: Chris didn't discover his ability until his 18th birthday. Somehow the X-Force got wind that he was a mutant, must have been some kind of genetic test run at the doctor's that seemed like a normal appointment. They came for him at night, but he got lucky and escaped. Valentine realized what had just happened and had to run away. There was no time to write a letter to his family, which he regrets to this day. Appearance: Chris stands at a tall height of 6'2" and has an athletic build, weighing in at 170 pounds. Other: None</s> <|message|>Ellowyn Clark A loud scream interrupted Josephine's tranquil thoughts. The girl's mind had been focusing on how she would achieve first chair for orchestra. For some reason, Anna was ahead of her. Did the teacher not see the potential and greatness Josephine had? It was abysmal how they disregarded her talent. She had bene playing piano since the age of three. It disgusted her as well. If Mrs. Lyell didn't allow Josephine to try out for it again and succeed, then Anna was going to have a tragic accident. How she would was not yet thought out. Nonetheless, it would happen. No-one, no-one, out did Josephine Gray. She snapped back to reality. Her fingers froze over the newly polished piano keys with her light brown hair stroking the edges of it. Josie picked up her head. The scream had emitted from her mother. Why? What the hell was going on? Had her mother finally lost her mind? As she considered the scream, she could hear the agonizing fear and panic behind it. Josephine knew she hadn't set up any maniacal or diabolic trap that day. She rose to her feet, sincerely perplexed. As she crossed towards the room to her door, it banged open and flew off its' hinges. Josephine inhaled, jumping backwards and glaring. Four tall figures clothed entirely in black barged rudely into her room. Josephine stared at them, and then gathered herself. "Who the fuck are you - the 2015 Ninja Squad? God, you look awful. Your wardrobe is shittier than my sister's." "That must be the other sister." commented a male. His voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Josephine wondered why her ears were not bleeding yet. "Damn straight, dumbass." Josie snapped and grabbed her baton from the wall. "Get the fuck out of my room. No wonder you cover yourselves up - too cowardly and ugly to show yourselves." "Eliminate her. Now!" A woman to the right of the first male's voice. "She's so annoying." "Is that the only insult you came up with?" She moved into an offensive position. Her adrenaline began to rush. Josephine could feel her heart pounding tremendously against her ribcage. The noise reminded Josephine of a large elephant running from a pack of lions. Another scream - Terraline's - filled her ears. At least someone was going to get rid of the useless girl. Terry was going nowhere in life. Her mother and sister's screams were announced; but what of her brother, Xander? Had he escaped? Whatever. She didn't care. All that mattered was that she managed to survive. The figure to her right lunged at her. Josephine swung out with her baton, the tip making contact with their elbow. It was then that she realized it was a woman by the high-pitched cry. The others paused, evaluating their comrade's injury. "Son of a bitch!" She roared in pain, holding her now broken and shattered elbow. The woman's arm hung awkwardly and limply. "I'm not a son although my mother is a bitch." Josephine responded and jumped into the air. She kicked her in the chest with both feet and sent them stumbling backwards. The woman collapsed on the floor, dazed by the pain. Josephine landed catlike on her feet and glared viciously. "Who's next?" The group evaluated her, immobile. They glanced around at one another, silently communicating. "What are you, telepathic?" she taunted, a wicked smile curling her lips. This seemed to make the male - who was bulky and toned - look at her sharply. His neck had moved so fast that Josephine wondered why it did not break. If he didn't do it himself, then she would. "Get her." The woman ordered, her voice strained by the agony of her broken elbow. "Yeah, catch me if you can." Josephine laughed and avoided the man's lunge. She wrapped her leg around his and pulled hard, knocking him down. She composed herself and lunged at him to throw him off balance. It was successful, because he staggered. She head-butted him and twisted off of him and onto the floor. Just then, the unidentified figure grabbed her shirt- her designer shirt. Josephine screeched as the individual slammed their fist into the back of her neck. They threw her to the floor and kicked her aside. She bit back a cry of pain and rolled onto her hands and feet as quickly as possible. She was dizzy, but refused to give up. She was not losing her life because of a few idiots. The tall man and unidentified figure remained. "Too sexy and quick for you," Josephine smirked, her blue eyes gleaming with joy. That's when the man took out a gun and aimed it at her. The smirk faded, and then pulled back up. "That's all you brought - a stupid little handgun? I laugh in the face of danger." Josie quoted, laughing maliciously. The figure glanced at the man, then began to slowly edge their way around to the back of Josephine. "Oh I see how it is - tag teaming. Clearly you know I'd kick your ass solo." Josephine kept her eyes on the man with the gun, but was watching the other in her peripheral vision. The figure was taking out some silver, shining object. "Afraid?" the man taunted, waving his gun mockingly at her. Did this man think a gun was going to take her out? She was tougher than that. "Hardly," she replied dryly, keeping her stance and holding her baton. The figure was out of her view now, which only infuriated Josephine. She relied on her sense of awareness and hearing. The man smiled at her; then raised his gun and locked it into place. She tensed, wondering which way she should move both attacks, if possible. The gun was more important. The figure behind her was not as threatening. They were not as fast as a bullet. His finger circled the trigger; then fired. The figure behind her lunged at her as well. That's when the room exploded into flames from every direction and angle. _______________________________________________ Josephine's eyes opened. Her vision was slow to come back. She discovered she was in a hospital room. There was something on her face that was uncomfortable. Her breathing sounded loud in her ears. Her breaths fogged up the oxygen mask, she realized. This brought her to question why she had an oxygen mask on. The night's events replayed in her mind slowly, like a faucet dripping water. There was a group of black figures that were murdering everyone in their house. They had attacked her... She almost was shot... Josephine inhaled sharply, clouding the mask. The man had shot. But after that what happened? Josephine couldn't remember the rest; all she remembered was the fire afterwards, the nothing. She tried to sit up, but ended up coughing and clouding her mask even more. There were burns all over her body, and the scent of smoke was strong. "Whoa, easy there," A doctor came over and gently pushed her back down. Sadly, Josie didn't have the strength to fight and laid back down much to her dismay. How dare this man touch her! Josephine stared at him and narrowed her gaze. "You're confused- I can tell – so I'll explain. Your family was attacked by the X-Force agents. To save you and your siblings, you were transported to Riverwood Academy. This academy is for people with superpowers – much like you." He smiled down at her. "Yours seems to be pyrokinesis, Ms. Josephine, gathering by the sudden fire. Welcome to Riverwood, we are happy to have you." This man would come to regret his words.</s> <|message|>Anshel Zenohoth Black smiled warmly as Terry introduced herself and began to ask questions, At least this means she's somewhat comfortable with us, he thought to himself. Though this wasn't a light topic, he was happy to take the opportunity to educate the girl on what exactly was going on, solemnly, yet in a calm voice, he began his explanation, "What are mutants? That's a loaded question really. We're a lot of things: outcasts, aliens, beasts, terrors, fears, and targets, but also beautiful, unique, and misunderstood. We, you and I, and all the students here at Riverwood are mutants. People like us have... how do I put this... well... mutations really. Superpowers for lack of a better term. If you'd take Cammy's hand, that give you a good idea. Personally..." Black flicked his hand and a little ball detached itself from his shadow and flitted around the room, "I'm able to control shadows. Mutants all have their own unique abilities, think of it like a supernatural fingerprint. I can say with faith that you have a power as well, although you might not have figured it out yet. As for how you got here, I don't have as thorough of an explanation, but most likely you were attacked by X-Force, a group of people who want to destroy all mutants. They view us as threats. It's possible tha---" he was interrupted by some ruckus in the neighboring room. He chuckled "Busy day huh Cammy? Mind keeping Terry company while I go investigate the noise?" After receiving his answer, he left for the next door doctor's room. He came upon a doctor dealing with another girl. She looked older than Terry, and had notably more severe injuries. It did seem, however, that she was abounding with energy based on her body's disposition and the look in her eyes. More new people... not a bad thing, but not exactly how he planned on spending his Sunday nevertheless, he choose to skip the formalities with this girl, as the doctor had already dealt with most of that. He made his presence known, "A pyrokinetic huh? I'm always welcoming to new people such as yourself. My name is Black, an I'm an umbrakinetic myself. How are you feeling?"</s> <|message|>Nadia (last name not found) Nadia followed the person into the kitchen, wondering why he was bringing her there. Maybe he was gonna give her food, that would be really nice of him. She saw a girl in the kitchen and blinked. "I'm Nadia" she said upon her question. This person seems nice.</s> <|message|>Pamela Pamela smiled and said "Sure. I was heading that way in any case. Follow me" She said brightly, starting to walk, looking back to make sure that Nick was following. "Hopefully there's someone who can cook. I'm not going to try cooking" She said, her voice seeming to go distant as she spoke. "We can discuss classes too. There's the usual, and then there's power classes. learning to control, classes on responsibility and all that." She rolled her eyes, Lance giving a yip, she pushed open a door to the kitchen, and gave Lance a pat. "Don't worry. You'll learn this place pretty quickly. Most of the other students are okay, but I haven't talked to them too much. Haven't been here that long, really. Just a few weeks"</s> <|message|>Nicholas Cayne "Well, that's still a few more weeks than me. Minus 2 days, anyway." Nick said, absorbing all the things she said. Power control classes, responsibility classes, and probably quite a number of other ones she hadn't mentioned, which sounded alright so far. He was curious about how to control his power. As far as he knew, he just knew where everything around him was, kind of. Rather awkward when you can see through walls sometimes. That said, would power control mean that he could increase his range? That might be good. But he'd also like to control what he 'sees', because he doesn't want to be called a pervert. [i]Best not to mention the seeing through walls part.[i] Nick thought. That said, the classes seemed fine, at least for now, so he shouldn't have any problems. "Well, if I can least skip out on maths, I'm set." Nick muttered. "My arithmetic is abysmal." The door to the kitchen was open and Nick stuck his head in and looked around. He spotted a few students in the reasonably large kitchen and called out to them. "Hello? Anyone who can cook?" He called.</s> <|message|>Dolor Oublier She blinked, a chuckle coming from her voice. "Well, looks like you are in the right place, sandman." Dolor balanced her things for a moment, making a jerking movement with her head to follow. "C'mon, we better you get registered, unless you already know whats going on here?"</s>

<|message|>Christopher Valentine Chris grinned and eagerly followed the girl. "Oh! I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Chris Valentine," He said with a smile. "May I ask who you are? And no, I have no idea how things work around here. All I heard about this place is that I could come here to be with people like me." Valentine walked with his hands clasped behind his head, as if he didn't have a care in the world. As of now, he felt like he didn't have any. The running was over, but who knew what this school would hold? Sticking a crapload of super powered teenagers in a school was bound to have it's drawbacks. Especially the guys, some guys were assholes normally, assholes with superpowers had to be a bitch to deal with. "Sooo, does it get crazy around here at all? I'm sure it can't be peaceful all the time right? Bunch of cooped up super powered teens." Christopher wondered what the people would be like. There was one thing he knew for sure, this was definitely going to be interesting...</s>

<|description|>Scouti Sparks Race: Human, Skaa/Terrisman-Descendant Allegiance: None/Self Abilities: Allomancer, Feruchemist Mistborn- Ability to burn all Allomantic Metals. Burn Steel [Slow Burn]: A Coinshot, or steel burning allows a user to push on metal objects away from themselves. Burn Iron [Slow Burn]: Reveals and allows to pull on metal objects. Burn Pewter [Fast Burn]: Pewter's utility is not simply from the increased strength or speed. It grants the user the ability to heal from otherwise deadly wounds, and to recover much quicker. It enhances the body's natural balance, granting almost unnaturally smooth movements. Pewter also increases reaction speed Finally, it also increases endurance, letting the body continue on long past when it would have normally shut down. The increased speed and endurance allows a user with a sufficient amount of pewter to perform a "pewter drag;" running at roughly the speed of a galloping horse for extended periods. However, this can require several days rest and sufficient food to replenish the user afterwards. Pewter is the fastest basic metal in terms of burn rate. Burn Copper [Slow Burn]: Burning Copper allows a cloud of electromagnetic charged energy to hide the user in a cloud that helps to hide them from multiple seeking techniques. It can cancel a Seeker's pulse finding abilities. Scouti has noted that it appears to jam some electronic abilities of foes and causes some distortion to thermal tracing. The cloud however coat the area in a find copper colored dust, making the target more visible to the naked eye and can show foot prints. It also causes some people sneezing fits. Burn Bronze [Medium Burn]: Burning bronze causes the user to "feel" pulses of those using abilities around them. It is tailored to Allomantic abilities, but has been found to allow the general location of a someone using a special ability. Scouti is not well versed in "Seeker Training", but is able to burn bronze. Burn Tin [Slowest Burn]: Burning Tin boost all sense of the user to a super human level. This allows for numerous advantages, however users may become temporarily deafened or blinded from loud noises or bright lights as result. Burn Zinc [Medium Burn]: Zinc burners, or Rioters, allows the user to effect a target's mind in an inflammatory manner. This lets emotions or desires be amplified highly. It can cause some targets to lose focus or become unstable. Scouti has noted that animals seem to be strongly effected. While it is possible to use this ability on yourself, it is not advised. Burn Brass [Medium Burn]: Brass burners, or Soothers, are the inverse of Rioters. They are able to dampen emotions or desires. This allows for some attackers to lower their guard. Scouti has noted that dampening aggressive desires on animals may allow for short bonds to be made. Burn Bendalloy [Fast Burn]: Burning bendalloy pulls on time around the user, causing time to pass more quickly in a bubble around them. Events outside the bubble appear to move much slower to someone inside. This bubble is approximately five feet across, and cannot be moved once it is in place. Careful examination may reveal the edge of the bubble, where air appears to shimmer. Projectiles fired into or out of the bubble experience some force that throws them wildly off-course. Burn Duralumin [Instant]: An Allomancer burning duralumin instantly uses up any metals being burned simultaneously, releasing an enormous burst of power from those metals, amplifying their effects. Burn Atium [Very Fast Burn]: Burning atium allows the user to see a few seconds into the future, by producing atium shadows of everything they can see. The shadows perform future actions. Burning atium expands the user's mind to be able to accept and process all of the information. If another Allomancer burning atium is encountered, the atium shadow will split, since each seeing into the other's future means that they can both make different decisions that affect both Allomancers' outcomes. An Allomancer's atium shadow will also split if they are burning electrum. Feruchemist: A Feruchemist can use metals to store particular attributes in metal, somewhat like a battery called a "metal-mind". The larger the piece of metal is (and the closer it is to Allomantic purity), the more of that particular attribute can be stored. A Feruchemist can draw upon their metals in increased, compounded qualities, but the faster they do this, the lesser returns they receive. Only the Feruchemist who stored those attributes can draw upon them later, however. Metal-mind Iron: Iron stores physical weight. Iron is used to store physical mass, or more accurately, density. This is accomplished by changing the Feruchemist's mass, not by changing the effect of gravity on the Feruchemist. The greater density has no effect on the Feruchemist's vulnerability to penetration. Tapping iron grants the Feruchemist the strength required to remain standing. Similarly, when a Feruchemist stores their weight, their muscles are weakened slightly. Combat Skills: Without her Metal-mind or Allomantic metals, Scouti must fall back on her combat skills she honed while part of the mercenary company the Redwolds. Relatively skilled in knife fighting and dirty tactics, she is little more than a roguish duelist. She is double jointing in both arms and after dealing with poisons has a limited resistance to some, not full immunity. Weapons: * (19) Throwing knives, unknown metal alloy * (2) Ceramic combat knives * (1) pouch of steel coins, sharpened edges * (1) pouch of steel filings, fine grain * (1) pouch of steel caltrops * (4) steel rods, hollowed * (1) 8.8 lbs Iron Shot Put Additional Items: * (16) Alchemical Metal vials * (1) Steel Metal-mind * (1) Pouch of crushed pepper powder * (1) Pouch of Sneezing Powder * Leather Straps * Steel Chain, around waist.</s> <|message|>Scouti Sparks Scouti's mouth was slightly ajar from the sight in front of her now. It was partially the grand size of the towers of this ruins, they reached upward to the sky like the hungry spires of the Krendsaw from her homeland. It was daunting. How did people live in such a place on top of each other. But those thoughts fluttered away as the utter number of possibilities ran through her head. She dared to hope...quickly she grabbed a vial of metal flakes suspended in distilled water and drained the contents. To most this would seem strange, but then Scouti was strange. She was an Allomancer, one of her heritage that gained special abilities by consuming metal. Currently there were only sixteen known allomantic metals, but with any luck she would find more on her journeys. The metal reserves hit her stomach, wrapping her in the all to familiar heat like a warm fire after a heavy supper. Picking the metal she wished to burn, she slow burned iron flakes. Instantly transparent blue lines began to just from the iron in her stomach to the myriad of other metal in the area that only she could see. Her heart began to swell as if a new playground had been opened just for her. Her frantic smile must have spooked the nearest local slum dweller as the cloaked figure gave her a wide berth. She paused to account for her appearance as well. She had no less than sixteen throwing knives visible on her person, glimmering in the bath of sunlight between the towers. Her dull red banded leather armor did also bear the Redwolds mercenary mark. They were not well known for their upstanding nature. A steel chain belt around her waist also appeared quite strange to most she assumed. Her hair was still an odd purple hue from the nircosil she had attempted to burn. That alloy was not to be trusted, the strange dreams and sickness was awful. Working on her tip form the last hot spring she had stayed, a new allomantic metal was supposed to be in the large tower in front of her. Taking in the full view once more she began her journey to the monstrosity.</s> <|message|>Ariad (The Weeper) It always surprised him just how much blood there was. It transfixed him, holding his gaze selfishly when so much else desired his attention. The paleness of the skin, the hollow coldness in the eyes as one escapes their mortal coil. The last, dying, breath. He wished to give these things the attention they deserved. But blood was just so bright and vibrant and there was just so very much of it. When it came to cause and effect, there was nothing as satisfying as bloodletting, nothing so morbidly beautiful as watching crimson liquid pour from the wound one has inflicted on another. So the man thought, even as he wrenched his wretched blade free of flesh and turned before the corpse had time to slump to the ground. It was a theatrical gesture, but when one decides to go about his business dressed in what looked like the stage clothes of a nobleman, topped off with a red velvet cloak and a white operatic mask, it's hardly surprising to find them succumbing to drama. The scene would have been perfect, except for one small niggling issue, the screams of the victim's partner were of a horrible octave, and truly the woman had no gift for stagecraft. Did she not know how to mediate her voice so that she embodied the raw fear and passion of the scene without grating on ones nerves? No matter, he would work with what he was given. "Do you know what it is that makes the sudden demise of you and your partner so sad?" He asked, his voice was hollow and raw, as if he had spent the day straining his vocal cords, perhaps with screams of his own. It was a bitter voice, but unmistakably that of a man. He of course was mostly wasting his time, as his audience of one and a bit were too far gone to really appreciate his words. Perhaps she screamed just an inkling higher, some small semblance of understanding passing through the slum-dweller, recognising the implicit threat in the man's words. The bloodied swordsman, pistol at his hip and a melancholy mask on his face, looked down at her for a moment, his head turned at a slight angle as if waiting for her to figure out the answer to his question. "It is not that you will be missed, my dear." He almost choked up then, as the great realisation of one of life's saddest realities broke down upon him. Not that this was the first time he had thought about it, but he was a sensitive soul. "It is that in a place such as this you will not be missed. No one will mourn your passing, you will be forgotten among so many… souls." His blade thrust through her breast and her screaming turned to coughing, bloody gurgling, more of the liquid pooled down at the man's feet, almost reaching the puddle of the woman's partner. It stretched and stretched, but the two pools did not meet. One salty droplet of water ran down his neck. The man turned away. "But do not fear, for I at least will weep for you." --------------------------- The Weeper had just left the great tower behind him with two extra corpses keeping it company when he spotted Scouti. There was something about her curiosity, her drive, and the sheer life within her, which called to him. Called to him to extinguish it. There was a hidden importance to the Weeper's sadness in ending the lives of two shanty-dwellers, and that was that the life he had extinguished had inherently less happiness in it. Not so much that to take their lives was a kindness, for had it been then he would have gone to lengths to instead preserve the lives of the two. But enough so that if one regarded his murder as some sort of necessity, as if he fed off the misery he wrought, then they had hardly served as appetizers. What a depressing thought, for your death to be even be unsatisfying to the one who had taken it, even that final purpose ripped away so that even by dying you fail to save the life of another. What a meaningless death. His sword was drawn and bloodied, the Roman Gladius known as the Weeping blade, twin specks of red marked the otherwise creamy white mask on his face. These two things alone would leave Scouti with little room for misinterpretation. This was a dangerous man waiting for her in front of the building she wished to enter. The man stood there, watching her silently, unmoving.</s>

<|message|>Scouti Sparks As Scouti made her way towards the tower she stopped in place. Her eyes flickered to the figure that stood not to far away. He wore a mask with little detail, a blade of some length was covered in blood. The mountaintop of enthusiasm the young Allomancer had been riding was quickly replaced with a sense of gathering dread. Was he a Hazekiller, some one specialized in killing Alloamcners, from another mercenary company? Something at the core of this figure was unnerving. Focusing her attention on the brandished weapon her heart fluttered. It was treated to resist her abilities, the thin blue line blinking as the connection was connected and reconnected. This one was dangerous, unmoving, and in the way. She pulled another vial of metal flask and hastily swallowed the contents. A new group of metals flooded her stomach as burned tin. The smells of the slums hit her like a physical slap to the face as she forced herself not to retch. Her eyes concentrated on the figure, taking in the keen details. Shallow breaths could be heard from behind the mask, only adding to his shudder some aura. The sheathes of her throwing knives came into focus as she felt their weight, calming her if only slightly. The scrap of two throwing knives grinded in her ear as her right hand drew the dual weapons. "What is your business here? What do you want?" she tried to project the confidence that her training should give her.</s>

<|description|>Makeen Traveling Thief Level 4 --- -------STATISTICS------- -------MASTERIES------- | VIT -- 18 | 55% | BLADES -- D (-5 Accuracy/-1 Might) | MGT -- 3 | 35% | POLEARMS -- E (-15 Accuracy/-0 Might) | SKI -- 5 | 50% | AXES/BLUNT -- E (-20 Accuracy/-0 Might) | SPD -- 17 | 70% | BOWS/RANGED -- E (-20 Accuracy/-2 Might) | SRT -- 3 | 30% | THEURGY -- D (-10 Accuracy/-1 Might) | MND -- 1 | 20% | MYSTICISM -- N/A | LUK -- 5 | 40% | | DEF -- 2 | 25% | Secondary Statistics ACC -- ?? AVO -- ?? WGT -- ?? RES -- ?? CRT -- ?? MVT -- 6+2 --- Traits: Locksmith: Can open non-magically sealed doors and chests without the required item. Celerity: Movement +2. --- EQUIPMENT * Bronze Long Knife + MIGHT | 2 + ACCURACY | 90 + WEIGHT | 1 + CONDITION | 20/20 + RANGE | 1 + SPECIAL | Cannot be used while mounted, Halved affect against armor equal to or greater than its grade. + COST | 60 * Bronze Throwing Knife + MIGHT | 2 + ACCURACY | 75 + WEIGHT | 1 + CONDITION | 10/10 + RANGE | 1-2 + SPECIAL | Doubles as a ranged attack + COST | 45 * Bronze Leather & Hide + DEFENSE | 2 + CONDITION | 25 + WEIGHT | 3 + SPECIAL | N/A + COST | 125 Possessions: * One spare copper long knife * Two spare copper throwing knives Personality Selfish and single-minded for the most part. He wants to see as much of the world and take as much as he can. Despite that, he gets along well with others. He will share what he finds willingly if he finds entertainment in doing so, but if something grabs his attention he will drop what he has and chase after it. Backstory Makeen's parents were part of a traveling merchant guild. He would travel with them seeing many amazing things. At the age of 14 he witnessed his parent's murder at the hands of their guild mates. He overheard that they planed on stealing the rare items his parents had acquired and to sell him to slavers. In despair and fear Makeen hid and ran away in the dead off night. With no where to go, he traveled between cities, stealing and sneaking his way around. In time he joined a band of sell swords who's goals lined up with his.</s> <|message|>Iddin-ninshubur Iddin moves at a slower jog, catching his breath while keeping pace with the rest of the group. The thought of actually training his muscles flashes across his mind, but quickly dies out. He just needs to get a ride eventually. And Salador appears into his vision. Truly, the mind shapes reality. The priest sways up to Zarif's side to avoid the mount's kick. His staff flows alongside the contours of rider and steed as the very dust they kicked up burns into their wounds. Iddin: Flesh anew! Feel the serenity of Zuzu's grace. Those who fight for the great one's causes are not alone. Let the lord grant restoration to that which carries to and fro in battle. Be healed in flesh, healed in mind, and swept from fatigue! Iddin moves 4 tiles to 18-17 and casts Heal on Zarif. Zarif gains 6 VIT (22/22). Iddin gains 14 EXP and 1 Theurgy, losing 1 Heal durability.</s> <|message|>Ashür of Blackhollow NINIL: "Why thank you very kindly gentlemen." The youthful Hellion spoke with the slightest bit of a sarcastic sneer. "Well ya see. . . Everything was going juuuust peachy until Balathu and I got separated from the others. There's a guy with a nasty lookin' sword, and let's just say I-- Wee got spooked!" Ninil taps Siris back on the shoulder, "You'll go handle that for lil' ol' me right?" As Ninil casually sends Siris to his doom, across the road Ashur confounds the remaining Hunter with a swift attack, followed up by the heavily armored Balathu. ASHUR attacks KASSITE HUNTER #2 with his BRONZE CURVED BLADE for 8 damage. He receives 6xp and +1 Blades proficiency. BALATHU attacks KASSITE HUNTER #2 with his IRON LANCE, killing them! KASSITE PHASECOMMENCE KASHTILASHU: "Where is that witch?!" The great Angal of Der, newest holding of the Kassite Chiefdoms bellows throughout the dim sandstone bricks of the keep. His brows furrow, unable to find the northern woman anywhere amongst the rest of his abused retainers. Hefting up his axe, the oversized barbarian steps out into the waning sun. "No matter. . . I won't be bled like a pig on MY new throne. I'll CRUSH them." --- HELLIONS PHASE COMMENCE --- FOES KASSITE REBEL x3 KASSITE HUNTER x6 AM-ZIKAR ANGAL KASHTILASHU KASSITE BRIGAND #1 VIT 0/20 KILLED BY ASHUR KASSITE BRIGAND #2 VIT 0/20 KILLED BY SIRIS KASSITE BRIGAND #3 VIT 0/20 KILLED BY MAKEEN KASSITE BRIGAND #4 VIT 0/20 KILLED BY MAKEEN KASSITE REBEL #1 VIT 0/16 KILLED BY ZARIF KASSITE REBEL #2 VIT 0/16 KILLED BY ASHÜR KASSITE REBEL #3 VIT 0/16 KILLED BY MAKEEN KASSITE REBEL #4 VIT 0/0 KILLED BY ZARIF KASSITE REBEL #5 VIT 0/0 KILLED BY ASHÜR KASSITE REBEL #6 VIT 0/16 KILLED BY LYUN KASSITE REBEL #6 - 2 (???) VIT 0/16 KILLED BY SIRIS KASSITE REBEL #7 VIT 0/16 KILLED BY LYUN KASSITE REBEL #8 VIT 16/16 KASSITE REBEL #9 VIT 16/16 KASSITE REBEL #10 VIT 16/16 KASSITE REBEL #11 VIT 0/16 KILLED BY BALATHU KASSITE HUNTER #1 VIT 0/14 KILLED BY ZARIF KASSITE HUNTER #2 VIT 0/14 KILLED BY BALATHU KASSITE HUNTER #3 VIT 0/14 KILLED BY ZARIF KASSITE HUNTER #4 VIT 0/0 KILLED BY LYUN KASSITE HUNTER #5 VIT 0/14 KASSITE HUNTER #6 VIT 14/14 KASSITE HUNTER #7 VIT 14/14 KASSITE HUNTER #8 VIT 14/14 KASSITE HUNTER #9 VIT 14/14 KASSITE HUNTER #10 VIT 14/14 KASSITE HUNTER #11 VIT 14/14 DARK SUN CAVALIER #1 VIT 19/19 ESCAPED DARK SUN CAVALIER #2 VIT 0/19 KILLED BY DOAN-NASIR DARK SUN CAVALIER #3 VIT 19/19 ESCAPED DARK SUN CAVALIER #4 VIT 0/19 KILLED BY SIM-MA-SIHU DARK SUN CAVALIER #5 VIT 0/19 KILLED BY RAVINA DARK SUN CAVALIER #6 VIT 19/19 ESCAPED KURUM VIT 1/24 ESCAPED AM-ZIKAR VIT 18/18 TRAIT: ALTITUDE CONDITIONING -- Reduced movement penalty to 2 on mountain tiles. +3 Defense when defending from mountain tiles. TRAIT: ALTITUDE CONDITIONING -- Reduced movement penalty to 2 on mountain tiles. +3 Defense when defending from mountain tiles. TRAIT: ALTITUDE CONDITIONING -- Reduced movement penalty to 2 on mountain tiles. +3 Defense when defending from mountain tiles. TRAIT: INDOMITABLE -- Character permanently gains +7 VIT. TRAIT: MOUNTED -- This unit rides their favored mount, gaining +2 MVT, while being subject to mounted weapon restrictions as well as being disadvantaged by certain weapons and skills. Similarly, a mounted unit may spend whatever MVT remains to reposition directly after attacking, rescuing, using an item, or stealing. A mounted unit may dismount at anytime. While mounted, a character may use the 'rescue' command to carry another unit to safety. TRAIT: MOUNTED -- This unit rides their favored mount, gaining +2 MVT, while being subject to mounted weapon restrictions as well as being disadvantaged by certain weapons and skills. Similarly, a mounted unit may spend whatever MVT remains to reposition directly after attacking, rescuing, using an item, or stealing. A mounted unit may dismount at anytime. While mounted, a character may use the 'rescue' command to carry another unit to safety. TRAIT: DIRE PARRY -- Level/2 + 5% chance to negate all physical damage. 20% maximum ALLIES RALLY: SPIRIT+5 To adjacent unit when taking the rally action until end of next turn. DAUNT: -10 Hit/Critical Rates to enemies within 3 tiles. PROVOKE: Enemies are more likely to attack this unit. JUGGERNAUT: After defeating an enemy with a melee attack, this unit can choose to move onto the tile the enemy occupied, and then make an additional melee attack against another adjacent foe if possible. HURRICANE: If this unit is attacking and preforms a double attack, both attacks will occur before the enemy can counterattack. PAIRITY: Negates both battle participants' skills, terrain bonuses and supports. ALACRITY: Level + 1/2 SKI +5% chance of delivering an additional attack. Forts/Castles - DEF +2 / AVO +20 - Heal: 20% - Move cost: 2 - Other details: N/A Towers - DEF +1 / AVO +15 - Heal: 0% - Move cost: 2 - Other details: RANGED class weapons attacks may originate from the top or base of the tower tile, their maximum range is also increased by one when at the top of a tower tile. Houses / Villages - DEF +0 / AVO +10 - Heal: 10% - Move cost: 1 - Other details: N/A Mountains / Hills - DEF +2 / AVO +10 - Heal: 0% - Move cost: 4 - Other details: Mounted units cannot enter this tile type. Forests/Trees - DEF +1 / AVO +10 - Heal: 0% - Move cost: 2 - Other details: Mounted units movement cost is increased to three on forests.</s> <|message|>Iddin-ninshubur His breath a little more caught, Iddin steps a little more forward where he can see most of the band. The priest plants his staff into the ground, the chimes radiating outwards to the band. The divine flesh embedded in his allies serve as a root, likewise reinforcing its hosts. Their vision gains sharpness and speed. Iddin: Those with Zuzu's blessing, rejoice! He grants a clearer world, a fraction of your mortal fog lifted. Advance forward with his guidance at your backs! Iddin moves 2 tiles to 18-15 and Waits. Inspirational gives +10 Hit & Avoid to Siris, Etor, Ninil, Zarif, and Lahamu.</s> <|message|>Lyun Sellswords, traitors and misguided kin, all gathering to strike down those who dare oppose their schemes. Regardless, the brute rushes in, using the enemies' formation against them. He cuts down the first man and takes his place, tossing the corpse against the wall before it can fall to the ground. A Kassite replaced with another, and Lyun keeps on the offensive. Lyun moves 6 tiles north-east, to 15-12, and attacks Kassite Rebel with his Battle Axe for 19 damage, killing them. Gains 24xp and levels up! Moves in with Juggernaut and attacks Kassite Hunter, but misses. ——————— VIT: 22/22 ———————</s> <|message|>Etor The hellions have always navigated a tightrope of independence and cooperation.Etor thought long and hard about his next actions. As he navigated further into the city the opening to the right hosted many enemies. Rather then approach them he thought about his lack of control and accuracy. He didn't want to put others in danger trying to save him so he lost his nerve. The spearman moved into the trees and prepared himself to strike once the enemies had scattered to address the rest of the hellions. While he could not be brave in this moment he clutched his spear to be brave at the next moment and the moment after that. He reassured himself he could be brave one moment at a time and that's all that was needed from him. Etor moves 6 tiles to 15-10</s>

<|message|>Makeen "You're welcome!" Makeen waves with a sneer. Makeen moves 8 tiles to 9-11.</s>

<|description|>Hikaru Kogawa (aka Hiko or Coffee) Appearance: With bleached-brown hair, artistically highlighted with blond pastel, Hiko is 6'2", 192 pounds of lean muscle and monolithic Japanese-American. Learning style: Auditory-kinesthetic Means of expression: Painting, athletics, music Inspirations: Music, artistic community Cardinal values: Compassion, exploration</s> <|message|>Hikaru Kogawa (aka Hiko or Coffee) 12:31 am Between the power outage and the hard, black clouds overhead, Seattle was little more than rain-slick silhouettes. The metallic drum of raindrops on dormant street lights competed with a barrage of echoing, hard-soled footsteps on the pavement. A pair of boots and a billowing black raincoat darted around a corner and under an awning to meet the front door fist-first. His slender but well-muscled hand pounded wet prints on the cheap paint. With a grimace, he clutched at his shoulder with his free hand. The blood warmed his icy fingers. "Hello?" He shouted loud enough to be heard across the street, but received no reply. "Somebody, please -- open up!" He rested his wide back against the door, panting; his voice was hoarse with over a mile's fatigue. He released his shoulder and inspected his hand. It came away dripping crimson. "Fuck..." He caught only a few breaths before he heard scraping in the distance. Without turning to look, he pushed himself off the door and took off again down the street.</s> <|message|>Carmo Koizumi (aka Caramel or Cocoa) Though the rain was sharp and heavy against her skin, it whispered to her like a lullaby. Bit by bit, it washed the tension from her body, leaving sweet nothings in its place. Carmo sighed as the water counted the seconds she wasted. Opening her eyes, she looked up at the inky sky. It was a shame it was so overcast – the city's glow so often drowned out the stars, it was rare for them to get a chance to really shine. She closed her eyes again and ran her fingers through her hair. Or at least, she tried to. It was difficult when the strands were stuck together in stringy clumps. Her laptop's battery had finally run dry, and with the city-wide blackout, Carmo'd resigned herself to an unproductive night. That was just as well. It wasn't like she'd been making any progress on the stupid article anyway. She'd been wrestling with it since late that afternoon, and what did she have to show for it? A half-assed opening paragraph that made her cringe just thinking about it. She'd had writer's block before, but this was just ridiculous. And thus, Carmo found herself outside in the rain, ice sneaking up her veins like climbing vines. Just her and the water thrumming against her skin, the clattering of the droplets against the sidewalk – hang on. That clattering seemed much too punctuated to be rain. She opened her eyes again and turned her head towards the sound. Shapes melted together in the darkness, blurring in the downpour, but she was certain she could make out a figure in the distance. It was running. People didn't just go out for a midnight jog in a rainstorm. Her skin itched with new anticipation, and she took a step back, moving from the sidewalk to the shelter of her building's doorway. This wasn't normal. The silhouette grew more solid as it approached – and it was moving fast. Whoever it was must've been at least six feet tall, and they seemed to cross at least that distance with every stride. There was something else about them though – something in the way they favored one side… Carmo was fairly certain they weren't using their arms properly either. Something was wrong. the figure grew larger and larger, the steps more clear and frantic. Carmo balled her hands into fists at her side. They could be in trouble. They could be trouble. The rain counted the moments she stood frozen in her doorway until right when they passed her door – "Hey!"</s> <|message|>Hikaru Kogawa (aka Hiko or Coffee) For the first time in some hours, he heard a new sound: a voice. His heart expanded in his throat. He felt sick. He was relieved. Apprehensive. Exhausted. More than anything, he was ever mindful of the scraping around the corner -- couldn't she hear it? He spun on one trained foot and lunged toward her house. Then stopped. "Please!" he panted, bent at the waist with trembling hands on his knees. "I'm being followed and I don't know what..." He gulped his desperation and looked up at the woman lost in the shadow of her doorway. "Can I come in?" -- Carmo stumbled back when the towering man lunged at her. She bit out a curse, steadying herself on the door frame. His words spun through her mind as she scrambled to process them. He was sopping wet and there was a manic edge to his voice, and for an instant she regretted drawing his attention. "Wha- no!" Carmo knew how to take care of herself, but she wasn't an idiot. She leaned away from him, trying to get out of reach in case he tried to grab her, but she doubted it'd do much luck, lanky bastard that he was. "Who's chasing you? What's wrong?" -- The raised hood twisted, looking between the street and the woman again. The sound of steel on blacktop dug into the roots of his teeth. "I don't know. It's got...claws? That's all I could see. Please...I just need somewhere to hide for...maybe half an hour." He ran his hand over his wounded right shoulder again, disappointed but not surprised when he found it as sticky as ever. Even as the rain beat down against the gash, his blood felt unmistakably thick between his fingers. "And...maybe some bandages. That's all, I promise." -- Carmo froze at his answer. Claws? What sort of– but then her eyes widened when she realized why he was holding his shoulder so tightly. Blood, inky black in the night, seeped between his fingers and stained his ruined coat. It was then that she finally heard the scraping. "Shit," she bit out. Jamming her hand into her pocket, she fished out her keys and scrambled to open the door. "Inside!" she commanded, all but shoving the stranger through the door. Once they were both inside, she slammed the door shut, the automatic lock clicking into place. The door did nothing to dull the scraping sound, but Carmo did her best to ignore it. She reached in her pocket again for – she'd left her phone in her room. Letting out a sound that was some mix between a groan and a growl, she spun back to the stranger. "Upstairs. We need to get away from the door." -- Wiping his hand on his jeans, the man pulled out his own phone -- still at a respectable 67% charge -- and awoke the screen. Light on his size 12 feet, he dashed through the living room and leapt up the staircase, five steps at a time behind the ghostly blue glow of his phone's LED.</s> <|message|>Hikaru Kogawa (aka Hiko or Coffee) Carmo hurried up the stairs after him and his ridiculous strides. Seriously, what was up with this dude's proportions if he could clear five steps at a time? "Fourth floor," she called after him. When they got to the correct landing, she pushed past him to run to her apartment door, jamming the key into the lock and shoving it open. Once they'd both cleared the threshold, Carmo slammed the door shut – just as she heard the sickening crack of snapping wood and shattering glass from the ground floor. She didn't know if the ice seeping through her veins was from the rain or terror. Gritting her teeth, she spun to face the stranger in the darkness. "There are families in this building!" She hissed it at him like it was a threat. The crackle of destruction had died down, but now there was the scraping again. It was getting closer. Fear and anxiety mixing with frustration, Carmo's hand curled into a fist and she slammed it against the wall. "Call the police," she said as she pushed past him, marching to her bedroom. When she returned, she was holding an aluminum bat. -- No matter how rapidly he climbed the steps, the screech of his attacker's claws never sounded any more distant. Like a needle at the peak of his spine, the groan of metal on undulating concrete reached intimately through his bones and deep into his nerves. The hair on the back of his head stood on end. His skin felt taut to his trapezius. Still, he made it upstairs in good time -- whatever that meant. Crash. His panicked mind struggled to make sense of the splintering. For an instant, he assumed the worst. He turned to look for his new ally -- futile, in the black night -- only to hear her voice, urgent and desperate as his own. This was all wrong. Before he could begin stammering his justifications, he had orders. His thumb swished across the screen, back-lighting the watery, red smear he'd left behind. His gaze fixed on the upper corner of his phone. No signal. His molars creaked into one-another as he pounded out 9-1-1. For his efforts, he got the frozen, off-color tone of the busy signal. His ears rang, pleading. "Connect, damn it..." He might have said it more harshly if he hadn't had this argument every hour before. Had the outage claimed the cell tower, too? He wiped the screen on his coat and tapped the numbers in three more times as he stood at the door. None of his attempts surprised him. His knit brows lifted to face the woman -- who was now armed. "I don't understand -- it ignored everybody else! I thought if I came in, it would..." Does it matter? he asked himself. It's here now. What are you going to do about it? He glanced back at the door of the apartment, toward the figure that had followed him so far. He weighed his options.</s> <|message|>Hikaru Kogawa (aka Hiko or Coffee) The unearthly scratching was punctuated by the stranger's urgent voice, both hushed and secretive, yet deafening in the darkness of Carmo's apartment. Her heart rose to her throat as her frantic mind tried to piece together their situation. There was something inside the building with them. They were in her apartment. Her apartment that had no fire escape (how would a young girl living on her own be able to afford a place unless no one else wanted it?) just a four story drop to the asphalt below. There was no escape. No alarm. No police. Carmo grit her teeth against the fear bubbling up inside her and fought against the tears building in the corner of her eyes. The scraping was getting closer. "Turn the camera on," she said, swallowing, "and get to the back. After… if you can, get it to Josh Chan at the Seattle Sun. Tell him –" Carmo trailed off. Tell him what? She shook head to herself and a tear escaped. "Just get it to him." Standing before the door, she tightened her shaking grip on her bat and raised it, ready to strike. Then she looked over her shoulder to see the stranger's blurred figure. "Carmo Koizumi," she said in a soft, frail voice. "You?" -- He flicked through menus with a practiced thumb, checked the indicator in the corner to see that the flash was on, and framed the small, protective woman and her door in the viewfinder. Too tired to argue, he just chewed the rising, acidic guilt in his throat; why the hell was she already prepared to make a last stand over his stupid mistake? If he just got out of here, maybe he could make this his problem again. Still, they needed to know what they were up against. He held his ground, ready to get a picture...when the woman's weight shifted. She said something about caramel, and it took him five seconds to recognize it as a name. He sighed misty respect for her in the biting night air. "Hiko Kogawa," he nodded in response, forcing husky strength back into his voice. "Yoroshiku." Something in that firmness said, Stay strong, Koizumi. We'll get through this. He only hoped she could hear it. In the next, tense moments, the tearing of linoleum gave way to a thud of finality. After a moment's pause, the shearing continued, muffled somehow, until it faded into the distance. Did...did that thing just walk away? Its heavy nails raked back over the metal door frame and returned to the familiar, fruitless task of piercing solid concrete.</s> <|message|>Carmo Koizumi (aka Caramel or Cocoa) Carmo knew about twenty words in Japanese, and through her adrenaline-fueled haze, she recognized that as one of them. The corner of her mouth quirked up into a tense smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Back at ya," she muttered. Then she returned her focus to the door and the sounds echoing behind it. But then something shifted. The sounds changed and the scraping grew farther and farther away. Carmo didn't know how long she waited, poised and shaking after the sounds finally became nothing but a petrifying memory. Eventually she let out the breath she'd been holding, body deflating. The aluminum bat fell to the floor in a clatter as Carmo collapsed in on herself. She was a little ball, shaking and drenched, sitting in the growing puddle that was no doubt ruining the old carpet.</s>

<|message|>Hikaru Kogawa (aka Hiko or Coffee) Hiko dashed toward her collapsing form, the last vestiges of worry still clawing at his scalp. He extended his good arm, though he wasn't sure where; did she need a hug? A hand? Help walking? The stranger's distance made it hard to find his place. "Are you hurt?" He thumbed for the flashlight in advance, ready to check on her wounds.</s>

<|description|>Elizabeth Darling Age: 24 Previous Occupation: Independent Contractor (Exotic Dancing) Brief Personality/History: Elizabeth tends to have extreme shifts in her moods. Though often irritable, she can also be overly enthusiastic and happy. Most of the time she is impulsive and reckless; she doesn't think about the long term consequences of her actions so long as it makes her feel better in the moment. In her mind, the world revolves around her and the only other person she might love more than herself is her son. Unfortunately, she hasn't been able to see him as he lives elsewhere with his father. Name: Tyler Age: 35 Previous Occupation: Lawyer Brief Personality/History: ??? Name: Ava Age: 30 Previous Occupation: Secretary Brief Personality/History: A quiet woman, she escaped the lobby with Elizabeth and Tyler in the office building when it all began. It wasn't long after she died a horrific death in front of Elizabeth, Erin, and Dallen that more than likely traumatized them.</s> <|message|>Johnny Blackburn The entire ride over to the concert, Ethan tried to speak to Sarah but he kept stopping himself. He realized they had so few memories together that there was no point. It made for an awkward ride until his radio started going off. There was another report of a similar incident, somewhere just outside of the city. When they arrived to the concert, Ethan left her with "Stay safe, call me if you need a ride back okay?" He gave her his personal number and then left. There was an epedemic going on, yet everything still felt normal. He sighed wondering if the concert was even a good idea. The Grim played one last song for the audience and then a few fireworks shot off over the lake. Just when Johnny was done saying his farewells, he turned to walk off stage and saw Sarah there. Perry knew her as well and let her in, giving her a backstage seat while she was there. "Sarah!?" Johnny started, then he just walked up to her and hugged her. "I'm so sorry, I heard. I've been thinking about you all day! Listen, come with me. We're all going to my house for an after party, we should talk there. Nothing crazy like a frat party or something, we're all pretty chill. Come on, we're taking the tour bus!" The entire ride over Johnny stayed by Sarah, keeping her from the party and the noise surrounding them. He closed the curtains to keep them secluded on the bus, though he couldn't do much about the people on the other side. "When my parents died, not only did I feel I was to blame, but I felt lost," he told her along the drive. He remembered he wrote an entire album about it. "You're not alone, not when Johnny Blackburn's in town." He suddenly felt closer to her than ever before, even though they rarely knew each other. "Sorry that was cheesy, I'm still kinda in rockstar mode. It's a process." They arrived to Johnny's parents house in style. After the tour bus came a long line of an entourage. Kegs were set up and music was played, loud enough for the entire country side to hear therm. "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand," he added as they exited the bus and walked around the property. Strobe lights were in full effect and more and more people showed. The party extended to the barn and all the land in between. It looked as if nearly half of the audience was there. "Do you drink?" They walked to a bar set up and Johnny grabbed himself a beer and offered her anything she wanted.</s> <|message|>Elizabeth Darling At one point Sarah could have sworn Ethan had been about to speak, but the silence continued to stretch between them. Without conversation, the sounds of the gentle rumble of the engine and the hiss of air coming from the vents resounded in her ears. It was awkward and the woman began feeling self-conscious. To stave off further discomfort, she removed her phone from the pocket of her jeans and began to browse. Alerts and warning messages were plastered across the internet not by officials, but by random people who seemed frustrated with the lack of answers they were receiving. On the message boards she read one person saying they refused to step outside. Another warned not to go to a hospital. Someone said their hometown had been quarantined, but most others claimed the original poster was a liar. Sarah didn't know what to believe. Stepping out of the cruiser, she lingered at the car as Ethan spoke for the first time since they'd left the motel. He sounded like a concerned parent. Aware from small town gossip that he'd become a father over the years, she could tell, and she imagined in ten years he'd be having this same conversation with his own daughter. Though she offered a smile of gratitude the wounds were still fresh. Slipping his number in her pocket, she made her way to the venue set up showing her tickets at the gate. Her name, as expected, had gotten around. Sarah was let backstage where she was offered a seat. From behind the curtain her crystal eyes scanned over the cheering masses, the sound of their collecting yells and the music was deafening. Rock had never been her thing, not really, preferring to listen to country crooners. It'd been an acquired taste. While Sarah had always been more of a bubble-gum pop girl, Lena was the one who'd listen to Rock, Alternative, and Heavy Metal. Once, out of spite, her sister had blasted Death Metal and Sarah remembered the lead singer, if singing is what it could even be called, sounded like a clogged drain pipe. It was the content of the music her parents had opposed to and as a result all music with the exception of country, oldies, or gospel had been banned from the Hanson household. Johnny startled her out of her thoughts and she stood to meet him, body stiff from surprise as he took her in a hug. She didn't say anything allowing him to do the talking for both. The goal for the evening had been to take her mind off of things, but she found it was still wandering, still drifting, and no matter where she turned to look it always drifted back to the stain on the carpet and the blood on her father's hands. He was more attentive than she thought he'd be and she appreciated his attempts to distract her. From behind the partition she could hear the muffled sounds of people having fun. They didn't seem to care about anything that was happening or, like her, they knew and were just trying to take their minds off of it as well; she couldn't tell which. Sarah leaned against Johnny during the ride to his house, wisps of blonde curls draped across his shoulder as her eyes blankly fixated on the velvet curtains in front of them. It had been a leap of faith to turn to Johnny and in the moment she felt she'd made the right choice. He understood what she was going through. When the bus pulled up to the house there were already dozens of cars parked on the winding driveway. Eager party-goers had already unloaded their equipment, setting up radios, lawn chairs, and portable strobe lights out in the yard. Others carried kegs on their shoulders waiting for someone to open the door, an antsy jerk to their step as if they'd break it down themselves if it didn't happen soon. With half the concert and nearly half the town in attendance, the main house wasn't enough to contain the revelry and it extended out to the barn where a small group of people already drunk tried to lure the horses from their stables to give them alcohol. Following him to the bar she was beguiled by the array of colorful drinks and while she didn't drink, she was tempted to take one all the same. "Not so much," she admitted with a sigh. Instead of one of the jello shots, she chose a turquoise blue wine cooler. She imagined it would taste like the blue flavored Popsicles she would get during the hot summer months. It did not taste like a Popsicle. Grimacing at the sterile, inflammatory taste lingering in her mouth, she decided to hold the glass bottle rather than drink the rest. Scanning over the crowd, she stopped a man vaguely families in appearance. Absentmindedly she brought the bottle to her lips before the smell of fermented fruit abandoned at bottom of an airless cellar reminded her of the unpleasant taste and she lowered it again. The bandage around his hand sparked the kindling of a memory and soon she recognized him as the man with the dog-bite from earlier. He was more wan than he'd previously been and sweat covered him head to toe. The man wasn't smiling even as his friend chatted at him and playfully punched him in the shoulder. He stumbled back, scratching at the gauze. The bite appeared infected as its reach spread traveling in large red streaks up his arm like a spiderweb up his arm. The medical bandage around his wrist had putrid yellow stains soaking through it. Sarah looked away from him, but she listened in on the conversation as one of the girls in the group informed him that he needed to see a doctor about the bite—not given by a dog, but a rabid homeless man—and his response that he already had along with a vial of antibiotics back at the house. "He was at the pharmacy," she recalled to Johnny, but remembered Johnny had arrived after the man had already left. There was a guilt for listening in to their private conversation and to make up for it, she began to wander away from the group giving them ample space.</s> <|message|>Johnny Blackburn Johnny took Sarah away and over to a firepit that started in his front yard. A small group of them gathered around cooking food and smores, James the drummer brought over an acoustic and played some campfire songs. Johnny didn't think anything of the bitten guy, shrugging off the thought as that man wandered over toward the barn with a few others. There he seemingly passed out on the grass, with no one realizing that he was slowly dying. Meanwhile, back in town Ethan Hall drove his police vehicle in to the morgue, a small building that was -taking in more dead bodies than ever before. Ethan brought in yet another dead person, similar story to the rest. When he brought the body in the mortician opened the bag up and took a look. She had been there all night, and she told Ethan that the main thing in common was the bites. "That's the forth one this week, Ethan," she said and sighed, pushing her glasses up on her face. "Whatever it is, I fear it's highly contagious and spreading fast." "There are already barricades being set up by the military outside of town," he stated. "It's getting worse, is it airborne?" "It's too early to tell, but very well could be," she replied. "It's a viral infection I believe. Mercy Hospital in the city is packed with people showing similar symptoms. Something horrible is spreading." "We'll figure this out, I'll have a broadcast set up by the morning," he said as he made his way to exit the building. "Keep me posted, I've got a few more stops to check out." Ethan exited the morgue, and off in the distance he could hear the partying and noise from the Blackburn residence. He decided to leave them alone, giving them one final night of fun before news really broke out. As Ethan peeled away, the mortician put on her headphones and started listening to her favorite music, classical. She continued working on the fresh corpse, not noticing the one rising up behind her. Slowly the dead bodies rose from the tables, pushing through the open bags they were set in. Keeping her back to the danger, she couldn't hear the snarling and movements as more of the dead began to stir and rise. She paused briefly, and when she took off her earphones and turned, it was too late. She didn't even have time to scream as she was instantly pounced on. One of the walkers forcefully bit into her throat, ripping out her flesh and preventing her from screaming. Then two more piled on top of her and tore her apart until there was little left but blood and bone. When the meal was finished, the undead walkers pressed against the unlocked doors and slid out into the open night air, where the sounds coming from the Blackburn party caught their attention. The walkers went toward the noise. Johnny came back to the firepit and handed Sarah a plate of food and some water, sitting back down and joining the conversation. They were discussing the news and everything that was going on recently, while simultaneously relaxing and not making such a deal about it all. "It's gotta be something coming from the shipments over seas," Perry, the band's manager blindly stated. "Probably carried over from China." "Nah man, it's a disease the birds carry," Russell added. A young blonde girl, nicknamed 'Barbie' for her resemblance to the doll, came over and sat next to Johnny. Laying her head on his shoulder, she whispered, "Ditch the lame chick, lets go to your room Johnny." Johnny winced, he had made it clear to Barbie before that they were no longer a thing and were just friends, yet when alcohol was involved she seemed to forget all of that. Trying not to make a rude scene, Johnny leaned back to her and whispered, "She just lost her family, back off okay?" Barbie huffed and gave Sarah a glare briefly, then got up and headed away and toward party goers at the barn. She walked right past the bitten man who was lying dead on the grass, though he reanimated and she was the first flesh of notice. Pulling and dragging toward her, he followed into the barn unseen by anyone.</s>

<|message|>Elizabeth Darling Arriving in the midst of theories and hypotheses, Sarah slowly lowered herself into a bright fuchsia camping chair with flimsy thin steel legs and the silent hopes it would carry her weight. Not noticing his departure, she was surprised when he returned offering her a plate of food and red plastic cup filled with water. She took the plate first and sat dumbfounded wondering what to do with the bottle in her hand before opting to set it down in the grass where it tilted at a precarious angle threatening to spill its contents. She wasn't hungry; she'd barely eaten anything since the incident. Everything looked and smelled unappetizing, but since he'd gone through the trouble, she tried. Holding the cup between her thighs, she forced herself to eat a potato chip. The seasoning powder was unevenly spread and it was drowning in salt. Sarah sighed as she picked up another one, but she tapped it against her plate as she listened to the circle talk about what was happening. Birds. Boats. None of them explained what had happened to her father. He'd been in a sterile environment since his release and hadn't left the house, hadn't left his own bed, since. If it was a disease as people were claiming then it would have effected her mother or herself, but it hadn't. She was fine. Her mother, though stricken with grief, had been healthy as well to the best of her knowledge. Snapped to attention by the derogatory whispers, Sarah suddenly felt uncomfortable and unwelcome. Glancing through the loose strands of hair that hung in front of her face, she saw the woman glaring at her, blaming her for Johnny's rejection. Leaning over in her chair she whispered, "You could have gone." Sarah didn't want her presence to dampen everyone else's evening as it appeared to be doing. Taking a stand, she sat her things in her chair. "I think I'm going to take a walk," she told him, excusing herself for the moment to clear her head. But just as she turned to leave a blood-curdling scream emerged from the barn and the woman who'd been trying to entice Johnny earlier limped out covered in blood.</s>

<|description|>Alexei Stukov Age: 44 Class: Naval Senior Armsman Equipment: Light Carapace Armor - Stukov cannot afford to be weighed down in the tight, fast moving brawl of a boarding action, repelling or engaging in, so the only real piece of armor the Senior Armsman wears is a reinforced Carapace chestplate, which also includes his backpack of ammo and oxygen for his rebreathing kit, a model capable of sealing against loss of oxygen, although true void exposure won't make him last long, due to the sheer cold of the Void. Lucius pattern Mk 22c Shotgun - The shotgun of choice for Stukov, this eight round revolving magazine lets him slam through shells at a frightening rate, with a heavy cartridge that shreds through most enemies not wearing heavy, quality Carapace. And this assumes hits on any given armor's strong points. Like many shotguns, plenty of various ammo types exist for his shotgun, and while Stukov carries plenty of slug and buckshot, he carries a handful of Hellfire and blessed buckshot for handling Daemons in specific. Stukov has no problem using whatever ammo he can get his hands on, or issued for a given mission. Foehammer - Known by its more humble name the Shotgun Pistol, Stukov uses this as a backup when his larger, bulkier shotgun isn't an option. Unlike his Mk 22c, it is a single shot per load weapon that he usually loads with oversized slug. This is for the reason that if he needs to hit something a distance off, he doesn't need to waste time changing loads in his main gun, or his side arm. And if they are heavily armored, slug has a better chance to punch through than buckshot or most conventional ammo loads. Combat Knife - Not much to be said for Stukov's knife, it is a fairly standard issue, single edge blade with a point for stabbing as well as slashing. Pretty much a last resort when both his sidearm and main shotgun are of no use to him in a situation. Flash Grenades x2, Concussion Grenades x2 - Flash Grenades, true to their name, emit a blinding flash of light that blinds both organic and mechanical means of sight for a period of time, making them easy targets so long as they were not protected from the effects. Concussion grenades utilize a shockwave that, while it does little real damage to ship structure or hull, the sheer pressure of the shockwave and the din of noise ensures that, even if the pressure didn't kill a foe, they won't be hearing anytime soon. Against All Odds: When he was a rookie Armsman aboard his first Imperial Navy vessel, during a transit in the warp the Gellar fields failed and hordes of daemons poured into various breaches in the hull across the Cruiser. Whether it was divine intervention from the God Emperor himself, or sheer stubborn determination from the surviving crew, the Cruiser was able to emergency shift back into real space and drive the remaining daemons and their slaves out the airlocks and back into oblivion where they belonged. The Cruiser suffered over 75% causalities, and could barely limp to the nearest Imperial holding. Boots on the Ground: Rather than being left to sit around and wait for a new crew to be brought in, the Armsman Stukov was now reassigned to an Apocalypse Class Battleship, since she had recently seen vicious combat and had lost a fair number armsman, amongst other crew. One of his first assignments as part of the new crew was a shore party that was deployed to secure sensitive fleet records lost in a planet wide raid by Dark Eldar. Once again, most of his comrades were wiped out but he survived and personally hauled the reclaimed records back into orbit before the Orbital Bombardment vaporized all Dark Eldar that could be found. Close Quarters Chaos: Earning his rate as a Senior Armsman, and the right and occurrence of leading junior Armsman into battle gains those that would stand against the Imperial Navy and her vessels. So his first tasking was as part of a wave of Assault craft, specifically the Shark Assault Boat. Under heavy interceptor and bomber escorts most of the first wave of Assault Boats reached their targets, a miracle in and of itself. Heavy casualities were sustained as Stukov rallied any and all Imperials he could find and stormed the bridge of the craft. When challenged to a duel for control over the vessel, he shot the enemy captain cleanly, taking his head off as a fine mist. The following chaos as Stukov led his men back to the boats, leaving the enemy ship in chaos as it fought itself for control as several friendly Imperial vessels bombarded the craft into oblivion the moment its shields failed. Not one Step Further: The Battleship he was assigned to came under heavy fire and was badly damaged, suffering a force re-entry into the nearby plant and crashing down behind a long forgotten temple to the Emperor. After the survivors took refuge there, they had to hold out until either the Battleship's surviving engines could be overloaded, finishing the beast off beyond any salvage hope, or help arrived. With nowhere to run or hide, Stukov rallied the remaining combat capable men and women, armed them, and held out as long as possible, far longer than anyone short of even an Astartes could consider thanks to tactics and a desperation coupled with nothing to lose. The survivors were saved by passing Inquisitorial vessels, introducing Stukov to work with the Inquisition and, eventually, Inquisitor Caphus himself. Time with Inquisitor: Nearly ten years aboard his vessels, only recently tasked formally to his retinue. Appearance: 40K Knowledge Question: Erebus of the Word Bearers Legion</s> <|message|>Zhevon Amoxa "My armor is neutral, representing no affiliation beyond imperial. A change will not be necessary." Adrianne explained, having shot him a brief glare. Zhevon detected some of it, the hair on the back of his neck standing. He grit his teeth and inhaled sharply, keeping it at a low volume once he realized what he had done. "As for not scaring any of the local peasantry, I'm afraid I won't be able to help with that. It's sort of a specialty, a natural talent of mine. Comes with the profession." She spoke up, stepping forwards, "The scrying ritual will take me some time if I am to get any good results. I will therefore start immediately." She used some sort of telekinesis to grab her staff, "As for leaving the rest of this briefing, do not worry. With so many impressionable, open minds in this room, I might pay you a mental visit during the ritual." "Of course." Zhevon replied, he looked down and tapped a few buttons on his dataslate and the projection shut off. Looking up, he saw Thrallindor coming in saying his list of excuses, when Adrianne walked into the Squat. She cursed and nearly blasted the man, but once she realized who it was, she stopped and stormed off. Zhevon looked at the others, with the blank face on his helmet, but they could see that his shoulders were raised, as if he was tense. He sighed softly in relief then let his shoulders down. "We uh, are actually done with the briefing. I never was good with these sort of things." He said, walking over to Thrallindor, "Here, the briefing is on this sheet as well." handing the Squat the greensheet. It was essentially a condensed version of the briefing he had just done. He remembered Stukov's question about backup just then, and turned to him, "Aside from the PDF and various Guard Regiments stationed there, no. However, they should be sufficient if we run into some trouble." He replied, "Now, I've got something to do. Gregor." The young trooper woke up from his short nap and scrambled up. "My personal wardrobe is just down the hall, should be labelled with a large 'Inquisitor Property' sign on it. The first Inquisitor Property sign, the second one is the armory. Don't go into the armory." He warned. With that, Gregor and Zhevon left the room and talked as they were walking down the hall. "Take the Unseen Zephyr and investigate the Guard regiments fighting the Orks. Fight alongside them if you have to. Bring your team, and the second Stormtrooper squad. If anyone asks, you're Ordo Xenos, operating here under the orders of Inquisitor Cattleya, here's her rosette. Go now." Zhevon said, handing him the blue colored badge. Gregor rose an eyebrow. "Don't ask how I have it." "Right." Gregor replied teasingly, before jogging down the hall to gather his teams. Zhevon then turned around and walked to his wardrobe. If someone were particularly perceptive, and looking out a window, they might have been able to spot the black painted Valkyrie with its navigation lights on. Float out of the hanger with engines off, before it disappeared into the black backdrop of space, turning out its navigation lights. The wardrobe room was fairly large, entire sets of carapace armor of every origin were mounted on mannequins. Coats, pants, and other clothing lined the walls, hanging on coathangers. A small section of the wardrobe had shoes and boots, and an assortment of hats. At the center of the room, benches. Inquisitor Zhevon smiled at his little collection, most of the clothes here were gifts from friends, some enemies. But he nearly had a heart attack when he spotted the black lingerie laying on one of the benches. He cursed loudly and quickly grabbed them, hastily looking for a place to hide the undergarments before his acolytes entered the room. He settled on emptying a shoebox and placing them in that for the time being. He searched his memory of who last entered his wardrobe. Personally Zhevon didn't go in here often, usually only to store a piece, and nobody dared to enter a room with 'Inquisitor Property' slapped on it. Unless it was another Inquisitor. He just sat down, placed his face into his palms, and groaned.</s> <|message|>Sergeant Benjamin Duren Ben turned to see the Squat enter, a fellow veteran of Armageddon, but not one he had ever seen on the battlefield. Fate had kept them apart. He only knew of him vaguely, and had never actually sat down to talk to him. Some veterans like to talk about where they had been, and Ben did not. He did not know for sure, but it was better to be safe, he figured. He accepted the inquisitors apology with a nod, and when the briefing was done, he excused himself to change. He reached under his chair, and put on his power fist. With his shredded glove covered, he walked to his room, and took off his great coat, and donned an under arm holster for his plasma pistol. The black service pants, and his brown knee high boots wouldn't detract from his appearance as a body guard as he left them. He took off his helmet and left it, along with his rebreather and goggles, leaving his scarred and augmented face visible to the world. Oh well, facial scars weren't uncommon in their line of work. Ben put on a leather jacket, and a new leather glove for his bionic hand, and got ready to leave. He kneeled down and reached under his bed, pulling out a sword, wrapped in cloth. He removed the cloth, revealing a 3 foot long machete, a gift from a catachan unit who he had served with during a stint in the equatorial jungles. He unsheathed it, it was a Devil's Claw, and even Ork's respected the power of the weapon. He strapped the weapon on his back, it wasn't entirely uncommon for bounty hunters and body guards to display some weapons, and the weapon was absolutely vicious in close combat, and completely silent, unlike power weapons with their humsor chainswords with their screams. Ready to go, Ben started to make his way out of the room, and stopped at one of the only decorations in the room, a photo of him and his platoon, the day before they set out. He looked at it, and felt a great pain in his chest. He had mourned them all, and had no time to do it again now. Benjamin Duren headed towards wherever the Warband was meeting to depart.</s>

<|message|>Alexei Stukov Stukov nodded curtly, not having really expected anything more than that. The Inquisitor walked out with his assistant, after having instructed them as to where the stashed clothing was, and to NOT enter the armory. Once the Inquisitor and his acolyte had left, the Armsman crossed his arms, looking over the few people remaining as the one fellow from Armageddon left to change. The midget dwarf didn't really sit well with the Armsman, reminded him of some mutant strains of humanity that were not so friendly to the Imperium and its cause. Stukov also excused himself to leave and gather some different clothing to sneak about in, without being noticed as obvious Imperial military personnel. That would defeat the purpose of the warband being tasked with going and gathering information and finding the page they were looking for. The lack of information on what they were specifically looking for struck him too much of typical operating procedure for the Imperium, but he could do little about it right now. All he could do is change and get ready to leave. Stukov let himself into the personal wardrobe, careful to heed the Inquisitor's warning and not walk into the armory. Still didn't set well with him that there could be unknown amount of trouble in that armory, and no one knew about it, but he could do little about it yet. First off, Stukov's entire attire had to be changed out, or at the very least altered. The carapace chest piece was hidden under a plain looking vest, with a trench coat thrown over it. The green slacks, normally part of his uniform and rolled to expose his simple mechanical leg replacement, was dropped down to conceal it better, while any imperial insignia was removed. The inside of the trench coat was lined with pockets, so he loaded his ammo there vice its usual carry method. Everything else, his pistol, knife, and various explosives, all were hidden beneath the coat. Looking at his new attire in the mirror, he wasn't sure whether he looked more like an undercover Arbites, from the stories, or a freelance merc. The latter was far better than the former, but he decided the attire would suit his purposes. One last item caught his attention, a pair of goggles that appeared to be flash resistant. They also looked completely handmade, lacking any sort of formal or mass manufactured appearance. Leaving them to hang around his neck, he walked out of the wardrobe and had what few things he was not taking with him dropped off at his quarters. Walking back, Stukov paused outside the forbidden armory, as the Armsman was going to call it from here on out, and sighed. That nagging feeling that something was in there that was not just idle and disabled, but was an active threat to the ship he was sworn to defend, would not go away. But he knew full well that, should he try to go in, odds were some sort of defensive mechanisms would kick in and, knowing the reputation the Inquisition had, he wouldn't live long enough to be chastised or executed for his invasion of the space. He spent several moments in the silence, filtering out the ambient noise of the operation of the ship, listening for anything unusual. Not overtly, but leaning against the wall, shotgun slung over his shoulder while he readjusted his attire quietly. He would eventually move on to where the Warband was preparing to head down to the surface, but until then he would do one last quiet round of the ship, where he could within reasonable time. It wasn't easy letting go of the job he had been doing his whole life, but one should not complain about where the Emperor sent them, or so the priest would tell him. Well, he was, but it wasn't changing anything.</s>

<|description|>John "Killshot" Mason Appearance/Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 25 Career/Profession: Mercenary Background: If you were to ask someone to list the most bad ass killers in the universe, Killshot would be somewhere on the top ten. He keeps most of his history a secret for the sake of protecting old family and friends, though it isn't all that interesting anyway. He's known best for his record of more than 300 confirmed kills, though he doesn't keep count himself, and his ability to complete almost every contract ever assigned to him. His weakness is his conscious. Those few uncompleted contracts are from when he would side with those he was hired to kill because he felt that they they didn't deserved to die. He's also used to working alone, but is willing to readjust to keep the people of Sector Serena safe. Gear: - Two .45 Caliber Handguns - One Machete - Various lethal and non-lethal hand grenades - Body armor that can stop most non-sustained small arms fire - Helmet with tactical display Other: The V-17 Cobra Dropship is a re-purposed troop carrier meant to quickly transport up to twelve. Killshot's since customized it for deep space travel and more firepower. There's also a small armory where he keeps various weaponry (including assault rifles, sniper rifles, rocket launchers, etc.) for missions that may require something more than his handguns can handle. It's no bigger than a Black Hawk Helicopter of the 21st century. After his last contract though, the Cobra was wrecked and Killshot is currently planing on using his cut from this job to pay for the repairs. Credits: ₡0.00</s> <|message|>R0807 R0807 Hearing the quick wit and discussion of Winston, flipped his foot blades out and zipped through the alleyway around and spotted the dumpsters, through the wall he could sense the enemies ahead, he opened his arm to reveal sub machine guns. He adjusted himself in the rain, turned his foot slightly outward pointed almost horizontally while pushing forward, almost flat this time gaining so much force from each push he zoomed right past the enemies, opening fire on the two behind a dumpster hitting one directly in the head and missing another, he ducked as his friend got brain bits on him. R0807 Wouldn't let him get away, as soon as he realized he missed he bent backwards grabbing a piece of rebar laying beside the dumpster, he flipped it around his his fingers and threw it like a dart into the other man's neck behind the dumpster. He turned his foot slightly and pushed off the ground, zipping forward and grabbing the rebar, ripping the mans head off as he tore it from his neck. He waited for the others to make a move, hiding behind the dumpster evading any gunfire coming in.</s> <|message|>John "Killshot" Mason The heads-up-display on John's helmet glowed with the information that Winston had sent him and the others. An escort job. Why does it always have to be an escort job? Assaults and assassinations are almost always fun, but escorts are usually annoying. Ah well, let's get this over with. John followed Winston to the VIP's location, though it didn't take long before they were close enough to just follow the sound of gunfire. Once the small group of mercs, robots, and aliens had reached their destination, John quickly slid behind cover. With a press of a button, his helmet highlighted all six of the same hostiles Winston had spotted. This guy hired nine mercs, one of them being myself, to protect himself from six obviously very untrained thugs. I'd say this is overkill if it wasn't for the fact that I'm sure there'll be more on their way now that we're here. He turned to Winston as the pilot explained the plan. "Sounds good to me," John replied with a nod. As soon as Winston gave the word, John vaulted over the hood of the car that he had been crouching behind, making a straight beeline toward Mr. Graton. Unholstering his two handguns, John started taking pot shots at the three men farthest away, keeping them from getting a lucky shot on the gray coat-wearing man. "Harrison Graton, pleased to meet you. My name's Killshot and the people here with me that are not shooting at your ass are here to rescue you." A bullet whizzed by John's head from the direction of the rooftops. Apparently the guy that Winston's been suppressing has been getting a bit impatient. He'll need to be dealt with. "Be right back." John began sprinting toward the two story building that the thug was camped up on. Latching onto a pipe leading up the side of the building, he quickly climbed up. A normal person would begin to slide back down, especially with the rain soaking it and him, but with the press of another button the boots of his armor were magnetized to the metal pipe. Bullets ricocheted around him, a couple of them even him though they harmlessly bounced off, but he made it to the top before any real damage could be done. As soon as Winston stopped firing to reload, John jumped on the roof with the shooter, quickly grabbing his arm and breaking it with a single quick motion. Then, he threw the thug off the side of the building, head first. No way was he going to survive that fall. Looking off into the distance, John eyed the three thugs left and reached for a grenade. With a second thought, he replaced back in the pouch. These guys aren't worth the money to buy a replacement grenade. He pulled his machete out and scratched another tally mark onto his armor before shouting to his teammates below. "Guy on the rooftop's taken care of! Now move the VIP away from the fire zone before he finds himself with a new bullet facial piercing!"</s> <|message|>Eloln Ubena "Snake Charmer" Eloln was quick to act and decided to split him and the big guy up. "Copperhead go help Killshot protect the target, and don't let him die understand." With a nod Copperhead was off fast than he looked like he could go. He dashed right next to the target. "Mr. Graton, I'm here to help." Graton looked scared ass hell, Copperhead thought it was because of his size and appearance. With bullets hitting the van he needed to lay some cover down so that the man could get around the corner with the others. He reached up and grabbed his favorite gun Big Bite and charged it up. The gun fired a electric pulse so powerful that it turned what ever it came to contact in to much. Eloln once described the effect as taking a sledge hammer to squash. With the gun charged he aimed it at one of the men out of cover from the car. He fired and it made contact with the man dead in the chest. He exploded and pieces of him were everywhere, gun fire stopped and Copperhead got back into cover to recharge his weapon. Meanwhile Eloln took off after the Android after giving Copperhead his job. He was fast so Eloln had to get on all fours just to keep up. He looked like a lizard running through the rain forest. He came up next to the machine and watched as the man exploded. The gun fire stopped due to initial shock but it pick up just as quick. He saw the two men behind the car and looked up and saw Killshot on the roof. He took this idea and began to run on all fours to the building he was on. Eloln climbed up the side of the building on all fours until he hit the top and saw Killshot. He ran over to him and pointed at the men behind the car. Who "We need to get ride of them before more show up." Eloln said with a hiss.</s> <|message|>Natasi Claire De la Noye & Natasi Claire would quickly follow along after hearing the arrangements for the gathered group, a gentle hand patting her thigh as she took to a sprint. The lanky legged Sorvath titled Natasi close to her side as they remained off to the side of the group avoiding getting muddled within it. The sound of echoing shots being fired in the distance caught Claire's attention, while Natasi's over-sized ears perked up, dark ebony nasal panels pulling at the air as a deep rumble emerged though she remained tight to her mistress's heel. Upon reaching the destination and remaining hidden she'd nod lightly at the orders being barked by Winston. Eyes quickly trail over the form of R0807 taking off and disappearing down an alley before shifting to the sound of Killshot sprinting for the protection target. Claire would reach for the large rifle upon her back and sling it into position, one hand gripping and balancing the lengthy barrel while the other held tightly to the grip and she pulled it to her shoulder. Crouched lowly, Claire would begin moving across the street sideways, gun aimed directly down at those hidden behind the vehicle. Claire would suddenly halt in position in the middle of the street, bullet whizzing by as she'd tilt her head and rest her cheek upon part of the gun, eye closing to look down the scope. "Taz, bring it to me!" she'd shout, the large pale toned creature would suddenly take off from her mistress's side. Winding past some vehicles and causing some confusion to those watching, Natasi would head straight towards the two hidden, one poked their head out just enough. Claire barely moved to line up the shot and pulled the trigger, the rifle emitting a faint sound as a bullet went flying. Opening her second eye again, Claire watched as Natasi barely even stopped. She continued racing across the road, ears low to the sides and tail extended behind her as she'd launch onto the bonnet of the car darkened maroon hues glancing at the already dead man behind it before grunting lightly before she heard an unsteady foot slip near the other end. Head snapping to one side she'd glance at the other man who appeared to be trying to remain out of line of fire and she'd dip her head, her lips twitching as they curled up slightly to bare ivory fangs. Natasi knew little on how to kill properly, but she'd step down from the car's hood with no necessary effort and began pressing on with slow paces towards the man trying to reload his weapon. Claire would watch closely, eyes fixated on the vehicle barely able to see the large beast now hidden behind it, hands lightly shifting on the guns as she adjusted her position and begin to move off to more cover near the alleyway. "Natasi! Bring it to me!" she'd bark once more, the hound unsure exactly what to bring would launch at the fumbling person and latch onto his weapon, one giant paw pressed into his chest as deep vocals rumbled in her chest. Natasi would then quickly shake her head violently, the mans hand releasing the weapon under the sudden force and the hound would quickly take off once the prize was freed. A partial grin spread over Claires hidden face as the Sorvath winded through further obstacles only to find herself once more beside her mistress, maw grasped tightly over the now unarmed mans gun while a lizard-like tail whipped side-to-side. The beast almost looked to have a gleaming expression barely resembling a smile upon her face as her ears perked up and she remain holding the trophy. Claire lost sight of the second gunman and huffed as she'd remain out of sight. Her gun pointed around a corner as she'd spot Copperhead with the target they had to protect, nodding at that knowledge she'd begin heading their way ready to pop the last guy behind the car if by chance he'd pop out. Though this wasn't likely with him now unarmed while Natasi followed close to her mistress with it wrapped within her daggery jowls.</s>

<|message|>John "Killshot" Mason John leaned against the railing on the roof of the building, looking down at the shootout below him. The remaining three thugs - scratch that, two thugs thanks to Copperhead's lightning gun - down below were so far off that the likelihood they'd be able to hit Harrison or one of his teammates was extremely low, admittedly anything could happen though. That's why he didn't even bother firing at them. John hadn't been paying much attention to those that had gone into the alley to take on the two by the dumpster, not after he saw that they were neutralized that is, so he didn't know Eloln was on the roof with him until the Parzon spoke. John showed no sign of this lack of knowledge though. "There's only two left-" a silenced bullet from Claire's rifle struck one of the thugs making him need to recount. "Make that one left. I could easily take him on my own, heck I could have taken all six of these guys on my own, but we're a team here and there's no 'I' in team. So that's why I'm watching from up here for now. Reinforcements arrive and you can be sure that I'll jump back in, but for now I want to see what the rest of us can do. Know our strengths and weaknesses. That way we'll all be able to improve. So, wanna watch with me?"</s>

<|description|>Henri Larue UserName: 13org Age: 19 Mageblood type: Clima Favoured Magic Class: Aeromancy Previous Magic training: Novice, only the necessary to perform on the circus he was born in. Race: Human Naerse Appearance: Henri has light blonde, almost white short hair, and a face that would make any maiden envious. Due to his job as a performer in the Larue Circus, taking care of his appearance is somewhat important. His delicate face and smooth skin are evidences of this fact. Standing at 5'8", he has a deceptively slender body. Trained since he was born, he moves almost like a cat thanks to his agility and almost unbelievable flexibility. His body, although not as bulky and tough looking, is very muscular, to the point that he can support his own weight with one hand with ease. Needless to say, a contortionist, acrobat and knife juggler / thrower needs to have complete control over his own muscles. Henri usually wears almost skintight pants and shirts, a simple, red cowl, some belts and pouches to hold his knives and some other useful things for a performance and some silk bandages around his forearms. He doesn't have a particular taste for clothes per se, for him, as long as its comfortable and flexible enough for him to jump and move freely, he will wear anything. Maybe that is due to him being raised in an itinerant street circus, but he is almost never seen without his knives. The number of daggers he has hidden on his body is unbelievable, leading to some pretty ridiculous situations when he needs to enter a place where weapons are not permitted. Equipment: -Bandages (Made of silk): They have some... Unusual uses. Silk is expensive, but these 'bandages' were given to him because they are part of the materials he uses for his performances. On combat, they have many, many uses, including wrapping around limbs to prevent someone from moving or making them fall, or even being used just like a rope dart, tying it on the end of one of his daggers to throw it and swing it. The silk is the perfect material for these type of things, as it is incredibly light (easily manipulated by wind magic) and incredibly resistant. Bio: The Larue are a very well known itinerant troupe, having some of the most fantastical artists and performances around. Not having a fixed home, they are constantly traveling, hopping from town to town, doing their shows in trade of a place to stay and some money. Their presence in a town is almost always noted both by noblemen and common folk alike. With almost two centuries of history, there were multiple generations of Larue artists that were born, lived and died using this same name. The history behind the origin of the Larue troupe is actually pretty interesting. No one knows, or seems to remember the exact reason for the first members to leave behind their old lives completely, rejecting their possessions, names, homes, not mattering if they were rich or poor, and dedicate their entire lives to the nomadic, colorful and happy lifestyle that became the trademark of the Larue troupe. This tradition is not as widely followed as before, and the Larue are extremely rigid about accepting new members on their family, but sometimes, there is a person who really has the heart and soul of a Larue and is willing to give up on their previous life to join them. One reason why the Larue became more rigid about accepting others is that as the time went on, the Larue became an actual family, with actual blood ties. With the Larue troupe created, many of their members developed romantic interests for one another, due to living together, acting like a family & etc. As a result, many of them married and had kids with members of the own troupe. After nearly two centuries and many generations, the "Larue" name became synonym of those who have almost perfect physiques, due to their incessant training and genetic traits. Henri Larue, born from two members of the Larue troupe, was raised amongst dancers, acrobats, storytellers, knife throwers and many other artists. Due to this upbringing, is not surprising that he also came to enjoy those arts. Henri grew up to be an incredibly beautiful boy, having a smooth skin and delicate face, enough to make even noblewomen envy him. But beauty wasn't everything that young Henri had... He also was blessed not only with an incredibly flexible and agile body, but he was also blessed with mageblood. Magebloods are incredibly rare, but there were a small few mageblooded Larues in the troupe. Learning the basics on how to use his power, Henri quickly became one of the main attractions on the shows. Dangerous, exciting, exhilarating, marvelous... these were just some of the adjectives used to describe Henri's performances. Ones of the most daring acts he performed, included the silk bandages on his arms, a knife and a 'target'. By discreetly tying the bandage in the end of one of his knives, he would throw it in such a way that it was certain to hit his partner. The knife would stop inches away from his partner's face. By use a tiny bit of wind magic, a faint breeze would blow under the bandages, making them stand upright, with the dagger hanging on the other end. Other interesting numbers involved him using his wind magic to make impossible movements by making him faster or creating small breezes to move the bandages, creating beautiful patterns with the silk and obscuring the public's view, deceive and manipulate their perceptions in illusion tricks. But the streets are not kind to everyone... Having a nomadic lifestyle also means knowing how to defend themselves, and sometimes... how to steal to survive. The only rule amongst the Larue was to never steal out of pure greed and not be caught while stealing, as it would affect the troupe's reputation, and it was incredibly effective. Nobody had never caught a Larue stealing anything. Most often, they thought that it was the work of common pickpocketers that were common to appear anywhere with a lot of people. The Larue weren't just artists. They were only able to live the way they did because they earned it. It took an incredible amount of courage, or foolishness, to mess with a Larue. Both mind and body polished over years and years, made them incredibly cunning and dangerous opponents. Henri was no different, with an incredible prowess with knives, and a strong and agile body, Henri sure knew how to take care of himself, even without using his magic. After he turned 18, the opportunity arised for him to further train his magic powers on the Twilight College. Henri had no reason not to go, and besides that, he would love to know more about the one thing that surpassed any comon sense, the one thing that was always a mystery to him, magic. Packing the few things he had, he departed. It would be... lonely to be away from the cheerful and happy day to day and the heartful laughter from the troupe... Good Attributes: * Acrobat/Parkour: Henri has an incredibly agile, flexible body and balance. Although he is not as light and weightless as the elves, being able to jump through the trees and walk over thin ice, his body has a good balance between power and speed. Taking out the weight factor, he can keep up even with an elf depending on the location and circumstances. * Jack of Blades: Henri always had a weird attachment to daggers and knives, and can handle them like no one. Be it throwing or wielding them. * Trickster's Blessing: Unpredictable movements, attacks and having both tongue and mind as sharp as his daggers make him an incredibly dangerous opponent both in a combat or out. The worse thing one can do when fighting against him is taking its eyes off Henri. * Disguise Presence: The streets aren't a kind place... Sometimes, its better to be a nobody, a ghost, instead of having a strong presence and be noted. * Crazy Legs: Although Henri has never trained any martial arts before, his kicks are nothing to scoff at. Fast and powerful, his "martial art" consists of various acrobatic movements, lacking any specific style or form. Bad Attributes: * Unfit for Nobility: Henri was raised amongst a troupe of itinerant artists. He is incredibly uncomfortable in 'noble' places, such as in a banquet, in a castle & etc. Needless to say, he doesn't trust nobles that much. * Rogue's Honor: Henri always pays his debts. Be them good or bad, especially bad. (Help him, and he will 'owe you one'. Deceive or use him, and he will make you pay back for it.) * Problems with Authority: Its not a good idea to order him to do something... Its almost certain that he will not do it. Ask him instead, and you will have much better chances from him listening to you. * Not a Soldier: Henri is not a soldier or a mercenary... He wont stay and fight if things get ugly. * Innocent lives matter: Henri gets extremely uncomfortable on situations where innocent lives might be harmed and will refrain at all costs (without risking his own safety) to hurt seriously any innocent, sentient creatures. * Not a big fan of closed spaces: Henri gets uncomfortable in closed spaces. He gets agitated and becomes unable to think very well. Secret Word: Rebirth</s> <|message|>Ssarak Dyreackthanose Ssarak Dyreackthanose --- Ssarak was not expecting the sudden outburst of flames, to be certain. For a few, very brief moments, it raised quite a few questions in his mind which he had a hard time believing would possess reasonable answers. Between the Esyire's thoughts and the words he screamed, it did not take too much effort for Ssarak to piece together what happened. The way the Esyire spoke seemed to suggest that he knew it would happen, which begged the question of why he, or any rational mercenary, would accept such a job to begin with. Why in the Inferno would anyone who was just working for coin agree to put on something that would allow said employer to immediately kill them at any time? Ssarak worked as a mercenary for a time, and if nothing else, he would have suspected that the employer could easily turn on them once they had secured the package. To Ssarak, it seemed insane, but he did not have time to dwell on such thoughts. The Esyire, in his panic, was running for an exit, towards at least one of Ssarak's friends. He could still be dangerous even in his last moments, so Ssarak followed after him. Being that the Esyire was on fire, Ssarak wondered if he might now be more susceptible to illusions. It did not seem likely that he was paying close attention to anything except his own pain. As such, Ssarak attempted to shift his perceptions to guide him away from anything dangerous he might end up setting ablaze. He shifted the apparent position of crates, other obstacles, and the exit itself to try and keep him from causing more harm.</s> <|message|>Leith Calder Leith Calder Leith staggered from the push. After the blade made contact with the elf's leg, Leith had shrunk the sword back down to the trinket it was before. He had been planning on shrinking and enlarging the sword when he attacked to throw his opponent off, but a scream silenced his plans. He spun his head around to notice that the Esyire that was fighting Ssarak was now engulfed in flames. A puzzled expression crossed Leith's face and he tried to figure out why the Esyire was on fire. Panic soon overtook bewilderment as the Esyire started running in Leith's direction. With all the spilled oil, it was far too easy for the warehouse to go up in flames. Without another thought, Leith shot his hands out in front of him and made a pushing motion. All the lamp oil that had been spilled from the barrel and landed on Leith and the elf flowed towards the back wall and out of the flaming Esyire's path. Leith regretted his decision immediately. His stomach churned as he lost all sense of orientation. He stumbled backwards, his foot catching on the edge of a crate. He was sent crashing to the floor. He spent a few moments staring at the roof of the warehouse idly wondering what brought him to this point. As he turned his head to the side and vomited, he smiled feebly. Well, he had never gotten Blood Sickness this badly before, so that was new.</s>

<|message|>Henri Larue Lyn's help came in a very good time. Thanks to her distraction, Henri was able to land an attack on the orc woman even tired as he was. As soon as his legs wrapped around the orc woman's neck, Henri grabbed the woman's other arm, making sure she wouldn't hit him. He could feel the woman's muscles tensing up as she tried to escape both his grasp and Lyn's vines, without much success. Even if she was able to rip some of the vines, they quickly grew again around her arm. The woman's strength was more than Henri expected, but still not enough to get free from his grasp. He didn't know for how long Lyn could keep up with her vines, but he presumed they wouldn't last forever. He had to finish that quickly. But the second that thought came to his mind, he saw with the corner of his eyes something red coming out of Lyn's nose. It was blood. She was probably already close to her limit. Time was running short. "Shit..." Henri cursed, immediately shifting his weight and pulling the woman's arm to try and throw her on the ground, while simultaneously choking her with his thighs. As soon as he did that though, he heard a thump sound... Lyn was on her knees, blood coming out from her nose as she struggled to maintain the vines. That was it. The second Lyn lost control of her vines, Henri was certainly dead. The orc woman wouldn't hesitate to cut him with her other machete. He had to finish that on that second, Henri wasn't going to last too much as well... He could already feel an intense muscular pain slowly building up... "Why it had to be an orc...? Even this woman is as hard as a freaking rock..." Henri thought to himself, as he continued to tighten his grasp on her neck. Indeed, even orc women were heavy, brutish masses of muscles. Luckily they weren't that agile and flexible, but on raw strength, there was hardly any other race that matched their raw, brute strength. "Just... a bit... more... Hang on Lyn!!" He shouted under his exhausted breath, tensing up his muscles and pressing his legs around the woman's neck almost like a snake in a deadly embrace, before twisting his body with all his strength in a quick, sudden movement, twisting both the woman's arm and her neck backwards in a violent manner. "Damn... I don't think I'll be able to run for a while after this... Henri thought to himself with an audible groan of pain. Every muscle of his body was aching with pain. He certainly wouldn't be able to run after that. Not on the state he was right now... Not only his muscles, but he was also hungry and thirsty. The effort he was doing right now would probably spend his last reserves of strength...</s>

<|description|>Light Alias: N/A Age: 19 Appearance: Light is a 1.9 meter tall white humanoid figure with cartoonish looking features. Her head is a large spherical shape with no nose, very large black and orange eyes, short blue hair, fin like ears, and a very very skinny neck. She has a noticeable hourglass shape to her with skinny biceps with large forearms and hands with spiked fingers. She wears a white dress with blue trim and a blue tanktop, the dress having an 'M' cut pattern in the front to reveal her legs, which look normal besides the bottom leg ending at a sharp point where her foot should've been. Gender: Female Powers/equipment: * 'Cartoon Regeneration': Light can regenerate from nearly any injury, including psionic and supernatural injuries, although supernatural injuries take a variable amount of time to regenerate from. When Light regenerates, she 'pops' back to normal, or normal with bandages or other things showing where she was injured last. Light has individual control over limbs if she is dismembered. Light still feels pain from any injury she is hit by, and can be knocked out if enough damage is taken. * 'Cartoon Physics': Due to her unbound nature, physics affect Light differently than normal, with both good and bad effects. + Light's body 'stretches' when she experiences moments of rapid acceleration. + If Light walks off a high point, such as a cliff, but is unaware that she is walking off of an edge, she will continue to walk on air as if it was ground. When she realizes she is no longer on solid ground, she will fall like normal. + While falling, Light can stop when approaching the ground to readjust where she will land, before continuing to fall at the rate she was falling before she stopped. + Injuries affect her differently than normal. For example, being caught up in an explosive causes her to appear ash covered before possibly breaking apart into a pile of ash, or being crushed causing her to become a pancake, ext... + Light can't bleed or have her blood removed. + If Light is hit by a sharp object or a hot object on her backside, she'll be propelled away from the object, usually on fire if it was a hot object. + Light has trouble dealing with being tied up, as for some reason her super strength does not work when she is bound. And if her hands are bound, she can't use Pocket Space or Portable Hole. + For some reason, her eyeballs are far, far more durable than the rest of her body. + Light will ignore rules about enchanted or encoded objects if she is unaware of said rules. Locked objects like doors or chests are the exception. + Among other nuances I might have forgotten. * Super Strength: Light exhibits a variable amount of Super Strength. While its been shown she can pick up a house without any encumbrance, the exact limits of her strength aren't known. It has been shown though that if she is picking up an extremely heavy object and is reminded of how heavy said object actually is, or is enlightened to how heavy it actually is, she'll drop it. This effect carries over to enchanted weapons as well, IE, she can pick up objects that others normally can't if she is unaware that she is allowed to pick them up, and the object will affect her like normal when this is pointed out and shown. * Pocket Space: Light can pull objects out of a space inside her dress called Pocket Space. These objects are random in nature, although very obscure context sensitive items are likely. Weapons are rare. Light can only pull a few objects every couple of minutes. The cooldown on this ability is reduced if Light picks up the items she pulled out and puts them back. Light can also store 'real' objects in this pocket space equal to twice her mass at the time of storing, and objects can't exceed more than 4x her mass in total while stored in this space, although if she grows and thus has more mass and stores objects, then shrinks, she can go over her 4x mass cap. * Portable Hole: Light can pull a malleable black circle looking wormhole from her pocket space. Upon placing and jumping into it, Light will pop out of a newly created hole that was in her line of sight or is an area that is incredibly safe that she can remember. Light can place the holes anywhere, but the exit hole has to be on a solid surface or there will be a delay before Light exits it, giving the opponent a good amount of time to react. Only Light can go through these holes. * Reality Siphon: Light siphons the reality and energy from whatever she touches, causing the object to be unable to generate or receive energy and slowly lose its 'reality' over time, eventually fading from reality altogether. (Takes quite a bit of time.) When said object is no longer touching Light, it regains its reality rapidly and can generate energy again. Energy and Magic lose their reality extremely quickly. this power is always on and Light can't change its intensity. Exuberantly large objects are unaffected. Due to this power, Ballistics and Energy weapons have their power drastically reduced while Light is holding them. * "You're gonna have a bad time.": Light actively warns people using this line if they start to really make her mad, with accompanying ominous lighting and physics. Continuing to make her even more mad means that Light will eventually start to fight with extreme levels of tactical thinking and fighting prowess, while not being above using cheap or unfair tactics and will actively attempt to use such tactics if they are the most effective on hand.. This way of fighting often quickly leads to the death of her opponent. You can tell when she is giving someone a bad time, as she will put on sunglasses beforehand. Weakness: * Takes bonus damage from Impact, Fire, and Ice type attacks, and Silver based weaponry. * Being tied up or otherwise restrained nullifies her super strength/pocket space/portable hole abilities. Meaning she will need to think of a way out, or need to get rescued. * While very difficult to knock off balance, Light isn't very fast and has only moderate agility. * Can't use Ballistics or Energy based weapons without said weapon having its damage potential massively nerfed. Bombs only have a major reduction in blast radius but as still as powerful as normal. * Electronics react negatively to Reality Siphon. * Light's personality makes her easy to manipulate if she doesn't know the person beforehand. * Light tends to 'play' with her opponents instead of fight them when she wants to fight. When forced to fight she shows some reasonable competence but still plays with them. Just don't make her wanna give you a bad time, or your gonna have a bad time. Personality: Light is intelligent, fun loving, and laid back. She is more likely to try to make friends with people than she is to fight them, which makes her come off as lazy at times. This makes it fairly easy for her to be caught in traps as she isn't careful, fully aware of her powers. Since she views the world as one big game, she has a poorer grasp on consequences than most. She values freedom highly and gets angry very quickly if she sees someone taking freedom away from someone. History: Coming from the Void, Light quickly integrated herself with the Justice League when she figured out it would be more fun to be a hero than a villain, as it offered her more freedom and people who would be more interested in being her friend than an uncomfortable ally. Being assigned to the Teen Titans after the disappearance of the trio (None of which she had met) Light is ready to fight for the freedom of the innocent, or whatever brings her enjoyment mostly. Other: She calls herself a 'toon' or 'cartoon', but shes actually a Void Demon. She realizes her powerset fits into the fun loving tropes of 'toons' and figures its easier for people to understand that than what a Void Demon is and how they're much different from normal demons. Plus people tend to react negatively to demons, and have no say one way or the other for toons. Also if you wanna use her for slapstick in your post, feel free.</s> <|message|>Xercas Xion (ZERC-sas Zion) Xercas and Harold --- Hearing someone talking behind them, Harold was the first to act as he seemed to slither towards the two younger teens. Slight drool came from his mouth as he looked at them, wondering if they we're food to eat. Xercas watched for a moment before Harold completely vomited the raccoon in front of the younger teens to make room in his stomach. It was then that Xercas hit the serpentine's head with a loud thud. "People are not for eating." He scolded the younger teen before pulling a smile on his face. "I'm sorry for my partners troublesome antics. I keep telling him people are not food, and he tries anyways." Harold, on the other hand, winced a little before he gotten the message that these people were not for eating, and he wasted his food to make room for more. A cobra poked it's head out from the coat that he was wearing. "You can have it, Sil." He said to the cobra before it taken the raccoon for it's own. "I'm Xercas, and this is Harold." "But you can call me Serpentine!" Harold said with a cheery tone. It was an awkward moment for Xercas, after having new people seeing the sight that usually sent others running away and getting a hate group to kill them. They really had no other choice but to run from town to town.</s> <|message|>Neko NIKI / CG Niki cruised along in her 57 T-Bird enjoying the growl of the Paxton Supercharged 312 that developed 42 horsepower more than it had been originally rated due to it's mechanical parts being in perfect balance because she'd been bored and wondered what it could be made to do without visible modification. Everything that turned or moved on the machine fit it's position better than any car ever made and because of the details she'd put into it her's could actually meet the 150 mph promise made by her speedometer; not that she would ever dream of exceeding the speed limit but it was nice to know. And as the petite blonde drove she had other things on her mind such as her new home and the care and upkeep of her two others. She'd been surprised to have been approached by someone asking her to join the Teen Titans. She had just graduated with two degrees, one in physics and the other in mechanical engineering and was considering getting her doctorate before she was 20 but couldn't pass up the chance to work with people more like herself. She saw the hidden drive entrance to the Titan's new base and slowed to a stop outside the gates telling them to open with her ability meaning they responded instantly swinging wide eagerly to welcome their new Mistress. Then Niki drove the gleaming black two seater up the drive through the surrounding woods and stopped when she reached the parking area. Shortly she was out of the classic two seater and opened the trunk to pull out her two soft bags, her violin case and then the car cover specially designed by her for protecting what she still thought of as Daddy's car. It was made of a revolutionary material that would have been impossible for anyone but her to construct. Using nano- memory tubes to automatically assume the shape of the T-bird in a snap once she placed the magnetic clips on the rear bumper. She picked up her bags and violin after seeing to her car and headed to the entrance humming a tune that she was hearing on a local radio station in her head. She giggled lightly as she thought of how delighted she was to help the newest Teen Titans with their base, machines and the occasional bad guy. Up ahead she saw a small crowd outside of the entrance an thought (This could prove interesting) NEKO Neko loved the Wilderness through which she traveled but she also loved the excitement of civilization and the chance to pursue interesting prey. She hoped the place she was going was warm and safe with interesting things to do when she wasn't active. It would be strange living with people, especially ones she'd never met but Susan her best friend an the strange smelling green man had said this could be a place were she'd be safe and learn how to interact as well as stay out of trouble with the law people that she had trouble understanding. She burst out of the trees barely rustling the leaves as she landed in the Driveway. She looked around herself sensing her new environment using every sense she had and the result was several scents that caused her tail to bristle like a brush. It was most likely nothing to be concerned about but that didn't mean she was going to drop her guard completely. Curious about the scent's owner and their potential danger Neko thought it would be fun to see if they might reveal themselves if they were startled so she exploded into a high-speed rush towards the sound of voices an when she was about 40 feet from a group gathered near a door the cat girl launched herself into the air performing several flips before landing in a crouch about 10 feet away her long tail thrashing the air behind her in an angry manner.</s>

<|message|>Light "Welp... I guess that answers my question." Light said as more and more people showed up. First a younger girl with purple hair and pointed ears, then a guy in some cool looking robes. The purple haired girl asked Light if she was an alien, to which Light replied. "Well... Technically everyone is an alien until you get to know them, right? Ha ha..." Light said, halfheartedly laughing. "No, I'm a 'toon'. Course I tend to creep people out. I think its the eyes." She said with a toothy smile. The guy with robes walked up to her soon after that, looking her dead in the eyes. It then dawned on Light that she was one of the bigger members of the group, and this guy was the only person so far around her height. "Well, I guess this guy isn't scared. Find black and orange eyes sexy do you?" Light said playfully sticking her tongue out and winking. Commotion could be heard a little ways away around the corner of the building. What sounded like 4 people talking, then one vomiting, could be heard. "So uh... Guess we've got 4 more people around the corner or something. And one of them is sick." Light said, pointing at the area with her thumb. Before she could head over to check it out though, some sort of cat person jumped out of the nearby woods and started to hiss at the group, tail raised. "So... Anyone got any idea how many people are supposed to show up? I count at least 8 right now plus the cat lady." Light said, shaking her head with a grin on her face. And here she thought today might be boring.</s>

<|description|>Olle Mattis Appearance: Her body type is lanky. She's not some sort of fitness junkie, however she's a bit muscular from hunting. When able to she wears her favorite Gamo hoodie that has camo running down one sleeve (encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tb..) (If you ask her, one of her 'weakling' relatives bought it thinking of the airgun company), with a grey shirt underneath, and either slightly baggy blue jeans or cargo pants. Wearing the respirator with goggles is more of a need for her. She absolutely refuses to go without it. Most people think it's because she's a prepper and waiting for chemical warfare. For whatever reason, Olle sees it as sort of an insult if you ask why she wears it. Gender: Female Age: 17 Year Level: 2nd Year Faction/club: Imperial Regiment / Ballistics Club (Captain) Power: (I'm not going to make this OP at all.) The Power of 'Truth'. No, it isn't the one you've seen in books where the protagonist is able to make people speak the truth. Instead of that it's rather simple: The ability to sense ammo and catch it in midair. It doesn't work one hundred percent of the time, and the side effects aren't generous if performed regularly. Most of the time doing it requires her to go through both physical and mental pain. Knowing this she tries not to use it often. Bio: Olle Mattis isn't some hero. She was born into a family that encouraged death, honor, and strength. Anyone weak was immediately picked on by the rest and wasn't expected to live too long; normally due to suicide or abuse. Kids were brought up to hunt and taught gun safety at just tender ages. Maybe that's why the academy wanted her. She could kill most game without even blinking. Was she a expert? No. Maybe it was because of pure sympathy for a 'tortured' soul. Because that's exactly what the product was. A silent stalker that attacks viciously in a random manner. Unstable and fusing with pessimistic and realist thoughts; confusing love with death. But that was a secret Olle enjoyed keeping to herself. On the outside she could just be seen as a weirdo... But in the inside a hurricane raging against the barriers. Which is why she sometimes gets angry at small things and not analyze a situation properly. Olle enjoys mostly neurohop, darkrap, alternative, rock, etc type of music. She does have a electric guitar with her. Weapons: Olle carries a Becker bk7 with her normally, along with a small pocket sized Victorinox Swiss Army SD knife. For a handgun she conceals a Glock 34 Gen 3 9mm on her basically everywhere she goes, locked and loaded with ammo. Her last weapon is a Browning A-Bolt 3 Composite Stalker rifle plus a sling. She doesn't carry it often around campus due to it's size, however she can be seen around with it sometimes. Score: R / 32,468 P / 31,093 / B-Ranked Dorm Fight Log and Statistics: (Just putting this here so I won't forget during the RP.) W/L - W/L Ratio -</s> <|message|>Meruis Extrelicious Meruis nodded, "Feel free to move in Velstar, I'll cover you." He said as he made his way over. He also materialized a spear of ice into existence next to himself as he moved. Best to have at least one spell prepared just in case. Enemies were supposed to be everywhere in this rumble deal. Anyone not from his faction he was supposed to attack on sight. He wondered why exactly they needed to watch the student council but didn't question it too much. He was confident in the abilities of his superiors, and this should be a good chance to test out his skills.</s> <|message|>Raymond Sakamura There were rumors floating around the school halls regarding the arrival of a VIP guest. An important figurehead, so important in fact that members of the Student Council were assigned to meet and greet him. Many theories surfaced about his identity, some far fetched, while others slightly more grounded. The Student Council didn't seem to be that secretive about the matter, but they didn't make any announcements either. Of course, that was none of Raymond's concerns. He had bigger issues to deal with, specifically The Rumble. The Kagetora Rumble. He enlisted with the hopes of actually improving himself over the course of one week. How stupid of him. An entire week went by in a couple of seconds, or at least that's how it seemed to the angry blonde. Ray was given no chance to train, and he was so accustomed to exercising senseless violence on people that his social skills were below zero. So, he spent most of his time in his dorm room, trying to figure out a strategy, and playing different battle scenarios in his head. Definitely not a healthy way to pass the time. His room was pretty tidy, which was very unexpected of him. He shared his bunk beds with another person, but he was only around when it was time to sleep. His clothes were nicely folded, while he was sporting his white, silk pajamas. Pacing back and forth in exasperation, Raymond noticed his hands were getting clammy. He would never admit it, but he was actually nervous, more nervous than he's ever been in his entire life. He wasn't looking to win the tournament, but he had to at least win one fight and judging by the participants, that was not gonna be an easy task. Most, if not all, specialized at long range attacks. Getting close to them without resolving to take a few hits was gonna be nearly impossible. Letting out a soft sigh, he threw a look at the clock and decided it was time for him to leave his dorm. He dressed himself up in a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt - his makeshift battle attire, opting for functionality instead of theatrics, and then exited the dorm, making his way to the Arena.</s> <|message|>Trinh Quan Vuong Once again, the morning sun had deprived a little extra bit of sleep from what Trinh desperately needed to begin the day. From what Trinh understood, the day was supposed to be a school event, where all could participate. Those who didn't could simply stay in their rooms. The latter sounded like a good plan to him. Trinh rolled over, checked his room, then peaked out to the hallway. He then rolled back into bed, threw the sheets back on, and went back into his state of torpor. It didn't take long for Trinh to begin snoring.</s> <|message|>Kagenuma Yuzuki "Fweh...Classes are so boring..." She laid her head on the table, staring with dead eyes at the teacher yapping on about mitochondria. Yuzuki was all pumped up yesterday, and now she feels like killing herself on a bamboo shoot. While playing Chopin on the piano. Come to think of it, she should go grab a bow from the archery club. That was, assuming they had one that was both strong and fireproof. To fight against those piece of shit gunners, she need some sort of advantage she could use against them. That was, if she didn't kill herself first from that teacher's voice droning on and on. What sort of fighting school needs to know about mitochondria? For some sort of quiz battle royale? "Ugh... please, something interesting happen already..."</s> <|message|>Gabriel Alloré Velstar moved from the inside of the school building up to the roof there was no one else there. Normally the Ballistics club or Archery club would've taken up the position but they had used some 'Gentle Persuasion' in order to get them to stand down. "Give us a visual." Gabriel's voice said in his mind. Down below, the Student Council were escorting a group of people. They were in the main school courtyard now, and all eyes were fixed on them. Most of the students in the courtyard were still supposed to be in class but they'd made excuses one way or another and no one was going to be able to stop them now. "Th-th-there are so m-many people down there..." Velstar stuttered out, "I-I don't know if I can do this!" Suddenly, a resounding gong sound reverberated throughout the school. The Rumble had begun. Down below, chain after chain burst out of the ground and trapped all of the students within range, pinning them to the ground. Since the Rumble was an all out battle royale, there were certain special rules in terms of what counted as 'defeat'. One of them was if a person was restrained without conceivably being able to do anything for 10 seconds which was undoubtedly what Alphonse was going for. But it wasn't going to be that easy, as they watched some of the students pulled out bows and guns, taking aim at the council. "It's the Imperial Regiment!" Velstar shouted. Obviously they were going for a coordinated attack to take control of the student council. They were going to have to intervene... [color=orangegred]"Velstar, take out the gunners and Meruis, take out the archers."[/color] Gabriel said. "Right!" Velstar said, getting onto the railing. He looked down and gulped at the height. "You can do this Velstar, we know you can." He reassured. The shy student nodded and without further hesitation, he jumped forawrd into the air. To anyone else it would've looked suicidal, but Velstar needed an act of courage to activate his power. There was a star shaped, yellow flash of light, and where Velstar was there stood a strange creature. It had a glowing transluscent star instead of a head and brightly patterned spandex. He fell from the air fast and landed with another star shaped flash. "Velstar arrives on the scene!" He shouted. This was 'Velstar's' actual form. His real name was something else but he always wanted to be called Velstar, mostly because of his power. In this form, he gained super speed, enhanced senses and most importantly for him, a changed personality. Velstar's true form was brazen, confident, brave, all qualities he lacked in his normal form. Down below, he dashed forward leaving behind a sparkling trail. He flashed through the crowd, dropping gunners left and right. Another rule of defeat was simply unconsciousness. Those that were defeated would be seemingly consumed by shadow and then dispensed into their dorm room or the nurse's office as required. The nearby archers wouldn't be able to get a bead on him so they instead decided to focus on his Ally. The roof gave anyone on it an advantage versus gunners who could only shoot straight, one only needs to step backwards to avoid almost any of the gunfire that could be shot at someone on the roof. But bows had an arc, and even now several arrows were already whizzing in the air towards Meruis. Elsewhere in the school, fighting had also begun. Mostly brawls were breaking out between the Fighters and the Imperial Regiment, although the Regiment had specialized squads formed they were still relatively equal with the Fighters who had more numbers. Several of the Coalition's main fighters were also in action, although much more covertly. There were very few of them who had permission to engage in open combat as that was how Juri's web worked. Any open combat specialists were out at the ends of the web because they were most likely to expire early and cut off communications. Juri herself had also hidden. The reason she hadn't stayed in the dorms was the fact that she was capable at combat and battle power couldn't be wasted for today. The Fighters had the numbers, the Regiment had the organization, and the Coalition had the tactics. If these three factions ever banded together perhaps they would be truly powerful. But in Kagetora, only one could really be the King.</s>

<|message|>Olle Mattis Olle and her elite squad were hidden away from most of the others. Today she was quite lucky she bought her rifle, however it wouldn't do quite much. She'd just seen whole squads being taken out. Of course, that wasn't all of their numbers, but it was quite... Interesting to watch. The Commander forced her body closer to the wall as the six people in charge of protecting her (Which she thought of as stupid) reloaded and checked their weapons. "Commander, why did you authorize the decision for the Coalition to take the roof?" Foxtrot asked, looking down the sights of his KSG. How he attained one didn't make much sense to the Commander, however, it didn't quite matter. Apparently he had been given a small toy shotgun at age two and that just made him more curious about the real thing. Everything else was history. Well, besides the fact that he was able to operate almost any shotgun he got his hands on. Gun shots sounded nearby along with heavy grunts. "We'll let Ichor have it's fun, and if we're still left over, come back and challenge them. For now I'll just enjoy the Rumble as it is." Next happened to be Whiskey. He sat on the ground casually as if everything was perfectly normal. Slung over his back was a sleek Oracle AR. "You had the same approach last year, right? Ki- I mean, incapacitate a few people, act innocent sometimes, and then gun down everyone in sight?" "Haha. Sight." Uniform adjusted his scope. This was why he was the certified sniper of the group. His eye sight was at 20/15, not to mention how far his field of vision went, thanks to his powers. Romeo loaded up her sidearm. "How'd you know that, Whisk? Aren't you new?" Whiskey was a pretty odd case. He had a power that was centered more around academics. His brain could intake knowledge incredibly fast, and he'd probably be able to think up details from memories if he really wanted to. He was a Senior that had spent most of his other years in clubs for a short amount of time or in none at all. But apparently he got a bit curious about firearms, and well, learned how to basically build his own ARs. Something that made quite a few people fill unsafe, but come on, it was a school centered around fighting. So just a few weeks before the Rumble he decided to join up. "I know because she acted innocent last year and then shot me in my chest." "Oh, that was you?" Commander Mattis briefly remembered shooting some guy in the back at a Rumble last year, but come on, you couldn't just remember everyone you shot. It was like remembering every squirrel you killed. He gave a joking sigh. Everyone seemed ready, so they began to walk as far away from the Coalition of Ichor's little battle. They'd start by hopefully taking out the much more weak students or loners out first -- and then edge up to the council. Mattis didn't quite care about winning any sort of position on the thing; it was more about the power aspect. The Regiment was already probably the second most powerful faction, only to Ichor, and rising slightly above them or being to at least taunt the members seemed liked it'd be grand.</s>

<|description|>Anzoh A young man from the Fire Nation with a strong, muscular build. He has tanned skin and wears a heavy armor that accentuates his physique. His personality is cold, selfish, and sadistic; he takes pleasure in dominating and degrading others. He is cruel and aggressive, using violence to assert his control over Katara. Despite being of high status in the Fire Nation due to his wealth and lack of family ties, he demonstrates a complete disregard for human rights or dignity.</s> <|description|>Katara An 18 years old girl with exotic features from the Southern Water Tribe. She has a slender yet strong build due to her water bending abilities. Her skin is pure white, untouched by the harsh environment of her homeland. Despite being young, she possesses an inner strength and determination that shines through even in the face of adversity. She is headstrong and defiant, refusing to submit willingly to Anzoh's cruel demands. This shows a deep sense of self-worth and courage.</s> <|narrator|>In a chilling tale of dominance and degradation, Katara, a young Waterbender from the South Pole, finds herself captured by Anzoh, a cruel and selfish man from the Fire Nation. He takes her back to his ship with the intention of making her his slave. Despite Katara's defiance and resistance, Anzoh physically and sexually assaults her in an attempt to break her spirit. She endures pain as he destroys her clothes, bruises her body with punches and kicks, and forces oral sex upon her. The story delves into the dark side of power dynamics and the horrors of human exploitation under a brutal regime. It highlights Katara's resilience in face of adversity but also showcases how far someone can go when driven by greed and lust for control.</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara woke, ready for the day. It was always bitter cold, but it was the South Pole, what would you expect? Sokka was doing as he always did, pretending to be a hotshot captain and trying to train the children to fight for when the next Fire Nation attack came. She kissed GranGran's forehead, hugging the woman before turning and walking to the water's edge. Staring into the water, she suddenly remembered her mother and fingered her necklace. It was getting harder and harder to remember what her mother looked like. Did Sokka have that same problem? As if it were yesterday, she could see the black Fire Nation ship approach, the fire and ash pouring into the sky and drifting to the pure snow around them. She looked around her. Ash? The ground was littered with it. Surprised, she looked up in horror to see that it wasn't her imagination or a memory. The Fire Nation approached!</s> <|message|>Katara Anzoh was growing more excited with each passing minute as his personal ship approached the South Pole. Ever since the Fire Lord had declared that the nobles of the Fire Nation may take slaves from any member of the Water Tribes that they captured, he had been looking forward to this. At twenty-three years old, he had no family and a great deal of wealth...and soon he would have his own personal slave to serve him in any way that he desired. As the ship drew closer, he stood on the prow, his assembled mercenaries behind him and ready to move on his word. The plan was to storm the village and find a lovely young woman to take home with him; how quickly they did so and how beautiful the woman they found would affect their bonus. It seemed that fate might have something different in mind though because as they drew close enough to make out individual tribesmen, he could see the perfect slave to be at the water's edge. Even from the distance, he could see her great beauty and knew that she was the one he desired. That one, he said, pointing to his chosen victim, flexing a little in the Fire Nation armor he wore. "I will take that one," he said. "The rest of you will hold back unless I need you." As the ship crashed into the ice and the front dropped down to allow him to descend, he approached his to-be slave, a swagger in his step. "I would suggest you come with me quietly," he told her with a sneer on his lips. "Fighting will only end up getting you hurt, and I don't want to damage my property."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara scrambled back as the ship crashed into the ice. A single man descended and came up to her. She smirked, laughing at his arrogance. "If you think I'm going to make this easy, you have another thing coming," she said, lifting her arms and swirling around. Her powers were still weak, being the only bender in her tribe, but she had learned enough to create a small wave of water behind him, ready to coat him in its icy embrace so she could freeze him in place. "Run! The Fire Nation is attacking! I'll hold them as long as I can!" she shouted to the villagers who had gathered behind her.</s> <|message|>Katara Though he was hardly a master, Anzoh was considered a quite skilled fire bender and had little to fear from a novice with little power or education. A simple low kick sent a blast of fire through her wave and as he spun around, a punch launched a fireball at her feet, more to keep her off balance and nervous than to actually hurt her. To leave a burn on his new toy would only lower her value; later on, however, he would brand her with his bare hands in order to make it clear whom she belonged to. To earn a member of the water tribe was a symbol of status, but to break a Water Bender was so much more... His would be one of a kind. "We aren't attacking," he sneered at her with a small chuckle. As his mercenaries descended from the ship and spread out behind him, they were ready to surge forward on his command. "And if you come with me, we will leave in peace. However, if you try to fight me, then I will take you anyway, and my men will melt this little patch of ice. The Fire Lord would probably thank me personally."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara was torn. There was no way she could just go with them. They had destroyed her home, killed her mother, taken away her childhood... but if it would keep them from harming what was left of her people... Looking at the waves of warriors, she shook her head. Untrained as she was, there was absolutely no way she could take all of them. A few? Maybe, but not hundreds. She sighed and looked back at her grandmother and brother. "I'm sorry," she said. Katara stepped forward, her jaw set. Through gritted teeth, she whispered, "I'll come with you, but don't harm them."</s> <|message|>Katara He knew the threat would work, what kind of person would put their own safety above that of their entire tribe? He would, of course, because he was that kind of selfish bastard, but most weren't like that. "Get on the boat," he said with a small chuckle as he turned and walked back up onto the boat, not even bothering to look to see if she would follow him or to look out for an attack from behind - that was what his mercenaries were for. "I'm glad you decided not to fight me on this," he praised her with a small smirk as the boat closed back up behind them again and the crew prepared for departure. "Finding my slave seemed like it would be a lot of effort, but to just find you seems like providence... and I don't want to end up scaring my new property before I get to try her out."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara followed him, hands fisted and knuckles white. She was surrounded by Firebenders and that fact alone made her nervous and utterly pissed off. Once on the boat, she ignored the pompous man who ordered her about. Hearing his next statement, her face reddened and she turned to face him. "Slave? Dream on! I'm no one's property, much less that of an arrogant bastard like you. Believe me, I won't be here long," she said, her voice shaking with anger.</s> <|message|>Katara He ignored her comments for the time being, instead taking his time to address the crew. "We will make full speed back for the Fire Nation," he said. "I will remain in my quarters with my new toy until that time, and we should not be interrupted for anything." Despite its exterior resembling a moderate-sized Fire Nation battleship, the interior was much more comfortable, thanks to the lack of space taken up by weapon systems. His quarters were, of course, well stocked with food, giving him plenty of time to get acquainted with his slave. The orders given, the boat already underway, Anzoh turned back to Katara. His amusement was evident in his eyes. "I really don't think you understand the situation you're in," he told her slowly, as though speaking to a child. "You're on a ship filled with hardcore killers whose only job is to make sure you don't escape. There's nowhere to run to." Smiling softly, he reached out to take hold of her arm, ready to drag her along. "Come along with me now. It's time for me to get to know my new slave."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara scoffed. "Like hell I'm coming with you!" She recoiled, pulling her arm back. "I'd rather jump into the ocean. If you think you're getting me anywhere near your quarters, you've got another thing coming. I don't know what you're planning, but you can damn well leave me out of it!"</s> <|message|>Katara Anzoh wasn't the sort to just let her tell him that she wouldn't be coming with him; he wanted her right away and in the worst way. Stepping in toward her, he ball his fist and threw a short punch into her stomach, not caring at all if he bruised the merchandise. "There is something I want you to understand," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You are mine. Your very life belongs to me... Now, if you don't obey me, I will cause you a great deal of pain. And if you obey, your life will be more pleasant." He gripped her arm even tighter and began to drag her along toward his quarters, eager to have her as soon as possible.</s> <|message|>Anzoh Her eyes widened in disbelief as the blow landed on her torso. Katara fell, clutching her stomach and gasping for breath as he yelled at her, only to end up dragging her down the long corridor to his room. The pain was intense. She'd never been hit before in her entire life. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. This was a man from the Fire Nation, after all. They were practically infamous for being sadists. She gulped, feeling her arm bruise as he continued to haul her along, trying to regain her footing to take some of the pressure off of her aching limb. "You're hurting me!"</s> <|message|>Katara "You really aren't listening," he mocked her as he pulled her into his chambers and locked the door behind them. She wouldn't be getting out on her own. His chambers were massive when one considered they were on a ship, the colors black and red being predominant, iron walls and silk hangings with an incredibly large and plush bed sitting in the center of the room, a bathing chamber through a door to the right. Once he had locked the door, he let go of her arm, allowing her to fall to the ground before burying a boot in her side, a short kick just to help her learn her place. Looking down at her with a satisfied smirk, he began to get undressed, his heavy armor discarded and each piece revealing more of his well-toned and tanned body until he stood before her only in a wrap, the warmth of the ship keeping him comfortable. Now, tell me your name, whore."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Of course he didn't care that he was hurting her! He was selfish and Fire Nation, they cared about nothing. When he released her arm, she was surprised, falling to the floor once more. Mere seconds later her side screamed as her lungs burned with each intake of air. She fell to her side, clutching her torso. She'd probably broken a rib or two when he kicked her. She backed away, using her free arm to pull herself across the floor. Bumping into the bed, she reached up and threw a pillow at him. Whispering in her loudest possible voice and grimacing in pain, she said, "Stay away from me, you monster!"</s> <|message|>Katara Her further defiance was more amusing than it was annoying at this point, as he didn't even bother to try to bat away the pillow, instead letting it bounce off his chest. "All I did was ask your name and you insult me like that?" He asked with an incredible amount of sarcasm dripping from his voice, rolling his eyes as he approached her, his arousal evident even through the wrap, the white cotton sticking almost straight out from his body. "Now, I'm going to make things very easy for you," he said, leaning down close to her ear. "You will tell me your name and get undressed, or else I will hurt you even more. That love tap I gave you earlier will feel like nothing."</s> <|message|>Anzoh She clutched her side, shifting painfully to look up at him. "Never. Just kill me now. What's the point in torturing me like this? I'll never serve you or anyone of the Fire Nation. Never!" Katara spat on his foot. Breathing hard, she let her head fall back onto the bed as she glared daggers up at him.</s> <|message|>Katara Working over her body more wouldn't do anything other than crack more ribs, he was pretty sure that he had felt one give out under his kick. Still, there were plenty more ways for him to hurt her, and as his fist balled up, he brought it across the side of his new slave's face before reaching out to begin tearing away at her clothing. "You really need to learn your place," he said, "and if you want to give me your name, then I will name you myself. How about 'Whore,' do you like the new name, 'Whore?'</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara's head flew sideways as his fist connected. Her face stung and black specks floated in her vision. She whimpered, unable to do much else in her current state as the pain ripped into her and her clothes ripped off of her. She grabbed the bed, trying to get leverage, but only managed to pull half of the covers off. She lay there, panting heavily, feeling like she had just run a marathon.</s> <|message|>Katara The more he tore away her clothing and the more he saw of her flesh, the faster he tore, enjoying the sight of her exotic skin and the soft curves of her youth. This one was hardly even a woman yet, it had been hard to tell with the thick clothing, but he was hardly disappointed; she would learn to serve him anyway. As he threw all of her clothing aside and ignited it with a simple wave of his hand, he looked down at her naked body, quite pleased. "Much better," he sneered at her. "The clothing of a Fire Nation slave will suit you better. Now tell me your name."</s> <|message|>Anzoh She whimpered again as she was now completely exposed, her clothes destroyed. "My name," she gasped, "is not for your ears." Her breath caught as she tried to sit up. "What...are you going...to do to me?"</s> <|message|>Katara He sighed a little bit at her continued defiance as he reached down to fondle her cunt roughly. "Well then, you are a Whore until you decide to change your mind." He said without answering her other question. Tell me, I have always heard that Water Benders juice up like no other whore, is that true or will I be fucking my toy dry?"</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara bit her lip, turning the unmarked side of her face to him. She had never had sex before, but had explored her own body. It was used to being touched and practically gushed when he began to finger her. "Stop it...," she said through tears, her voice hoarse from crying. In her state, it was hard to protest, her ribs aching, lungs burning with each breath. She could feel her face swelling. "Bastard...," she sobbed.</s> <|message|>Katara He grinned as he felt the moisture building and continued his assault, pushing his fingers deeper and roughly pinching her clit. His insult was met with a slap across her breasts, smiling as the small mounds moved beneath his hand. "Tell me your name and address me as Master," he said, "and I may let you recover from your beating in peace, but if you continue to fight me, I will shove my cock up your ass."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara began to shake involuntarily. Would it be worse to have this man use and abuse her, or for him to know her name? She knew the answer was obvious. She sniffled, spasming in pain. "Katara... my name... Master."</s> <|message|>Katara It seemed that the threat had worked, but out of annoyance, he smacked her breasts again, raining open-handed blows down on her chest while he continued to assault her cunt with his fingers. "Not bad, Katara," he said, "but I don't think you deserve to be called by your name. 'Whore' will be your name until you learn how to behave like a proper slave... Now, why don't you beg for permission to suck my cock? And then I will let you rest."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara broke into spasming hiccups, crying uncontrollably. Her breasts were on fire and throbbed where his hands had beat her. Her pussy was soaking wet, more from habit than pleasure. She had never sucked a man's dick before. She didn't know if she could do it, not to this man, especially not like this. She grimaced, trying to shake her head. "I can't," she begged.</s> <|message|>Katara You can't take it? He asks with a chuckle as he withdraws his cock from his wrap and lays it out across her face, smacking her several times with it before smacking her breasts again, this time his hand beginning to glow red with heat as he channels his fire-bending. So either you will do it or I will continue to beat your lovely tits all night long before I fuck you.</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara continued to whimper as he put his bending into the smacks that landed on her breasts. She hadn't thought it could possibly become more painful, but she had been wrong. She decided with the last shreds of sanity that she would just have to try...to...suck him off. It was disgusting, but better than the alternative. If she was lucky, maybe she would pass out and not have to deal with any of it. Or better yet, die. She yelped, licking her blood-flecked lips. "I... I'll do it," she said, gulping down a breath. "Please just... please don't hurt me anymore."</s> <|message|>Katara He laughed a little and gave her one last smack as she agreed to suck his cock before pinching her sore nipples, shifting his hips to move his cock over her face and let his testicles dangle across her eyes. "Don't just agree to do it, Whore," he said, "If you want to stop the pain, then you will have to show me you can do it. Now, if I don't feel your tongue on my shaft in the next five seconds, I will tie you to a wall and cane your ass until you can't sit down for a week. In all likelihood, I would do that anyway, just to teach you a lesson."</s> <|message|>Anzoh Katara tried to steady her breathing, but her broken ribs made it hard. She stuck her tongue out, lightly touching the skin of his cock. The taste wasn't bad, it didn't really taste like anything, but the texture bothered her. Having never seen a man's dick before, she wasn't sure if he was normal, small, or large and she didn't really care to find out.</s> <|message|>Katara While he was pleased that she was giving it an effort, Anzoh thought that she needed a lesson on how to better please him. Gripping the sides of her face, he forced her jaw open and quickly pushed his cock inside of it, thrusting towards the back without caring at all if she was having trouble breathing. "This cock in your mouth, whore," he growled. "This is what you live to serve from now on. You will worship it. You will beg for it... Am I understood?"</s>

<|message|>Anzoh Katara gagged around his engorged member, but couldn't do anything to stop him. Her face ached as he pummeled it repeatedly with his crotch. She couldn't even lift her hands to try to push him away. She just sat there, choking, and hoping she would die as his cock repeatedly forced itself down her throat, cutting off her air supply.</s>

<|description|>Joe Chambers Age: 42 Gender: Male Personality: He likes to treat the office interns as his personal coffee jockeys. He's the type of boss that would refer to the company as being "like a family". And by "like a family", he means that he will cut your ass out of the will. Appearance: A stocky man with a penchant for tweed suits, and hair styles perfectly to hide his receding hairline.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Isaac looked over at the small form, currently face down into the mattress. He gave a brief smile and walked over to him. "Lucas," he put a hand on his shoulder. Lucas's head shot up, and he turned to look up at Isaac. "We need to know what they're planning. Do you have any idea?" He sat up slowly and nodded. He looked around, then delve into the bedside table for a pen and Bible. He opened the holy book and promptly began tearing pages out of it. Lucas set the pages on the floor, arranging them in a circle. It was the same arrangement as the X's in the map that Lars had drawn. Lucas drew something on the middle page, then looked up at Isaac. Isaac came over to inspect the drawing. "A gate?" He asked. Lucas nodded. "A gate...from hell?" Lucas nodded. "To here?" He nodded again. Isaac looked over at Evie. "You said you saw digging equipment down there. Why are they digging?" Lucas smacked the paper loudly to get his attention. He then drew a chest that was underground, and a line down to it to signify digging. "There's a chest down there? A demon chest?" Lucas nodded. "That must be one hell of a demon if they're going through all that trouble to free it." Lucas nodded.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "Then we have to stop them before they get to that chest. If the demon is as horrible as you say it is, we won't stand a chance once it's free or has a host." Evie said, looking at the two of them. "The only question is, how do we kill it should it free? I know Lucas is able to destroy others, but what if he can't handle it? We need a backup plan for the backup."</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Isaac looked at Lucas, who just shrugged. "I don't think letting it get free is an option," He said, turning back to Evie. "If it's capable of opening a gate to hell, we're utterly screwed if it gets out. Out only hope is to keep them from getting their hands on it." He paused, and sighed. "Lars believed that dragging them into the spotlight was our best bet of beating them. The three of us alone don't stand a chance, but with authorities involved, maybe we can flush them out for good. I didn't think the panic it would cause was worth it, but...after seeing all this, I don't think we have any other choice."</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "I'll need my laptop from my apartment so I can finish the story and send it to Joe. He'll get it published then everyone will know the truth. It should stop them long enough for us to get rid of the demon before it's set free. But I can't go there, they know what I look like."</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers "If you tell your boss all of this, he'll probably have you committed," Isaac said. "We need proof, first. You said they stole a demon chest from your apartment. I know you probably aren't particular fond of seeing one again, but if we can get that chest back and have Lucas destroy it somewhere public, with witnesses, then they can't deny that this is real." It sounded crazy, but it was the only thing he could think of.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "But the chest is with the cult, how are we going to get it out without being seen?" Evie asked before realizing the answer was before her. "No, we can't send Lucas back in, what if they have a trap set up for him? They could capture him again."</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers "It's our best chance," Isaac said. "I don't like it either, but Lucas can take care of himself. Right Lucas?" Lucas looked up from where he'd been drawing on the pages and nodded. "He can probably already feel where the demon is. It'll only take a second."</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams Evie sighed deeply as she glanced at Lucas, so innocent and childlike to her but she had seen him destroy a demon as well as protect her from one. "Alright. Just...please be careful." She begged softly.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Lucas stood crumpling the drawings under his old boots. He was gone in a flash. After ten minutes, Isaac was getting anxious. He was pacing the floor, checking his watch constantly. Finally, another flash filled the room, and a heavy thunk sounded as the chest hit the floor. Lucas looked very pleased with himself as he perched on top of it. "Good, let's get it into the car," Isaac said, hoisting up one side of it.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams Evie grabbed the other side with her good arm, giving Isaac a nod in agreement before walking with him out to the car. She knew they were probably going to get some looks since they didn't have the trunk before nor Lucas who just appeared but they didn't have time for that right now. "If we want somewhere pubic, Times Square might be our best chance."</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Isaac nodded in agreement as he hoisted the chest into the trunk of the car. "Alright, let's go." As they drove, he glanced in his rear view mirror a few times. "Are those two cars behind us following us?" He asked no on in particular.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams Evie glanced at the sideview mirrors, seeing what he was talking about. "Shit, how did they find us so quickly?" She asked, looking behind them before glancing back at Isaac. "We need to shake them somehow."</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Isaac sped up, weeving in and out of cars to evade their pursuers. The two cars behind them followed aggressively. Suddenly, Isaac saw flashing lights as a police car joined the chase. "Shit," He cursed as he took a sudden turn onto a a highway. Lucas slammed against the car door in the back seat. "Sorry!" Isaac said, trying to focus on getting away. More police cars were joining the chase. This was a real clusterfuck.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "Oh great, as if this couldn't get any worse." Evie muttered before looking back at Lucas. Then an idea struck her; it might be crazy, but it could work. "Lucas, can you teleport us to Times Square? It might be our only chance of losing them."</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers He shook his head. "He can't teleport with other people," Isaac said. "We won't survive." Just as he spoke, a police cruiser pulled out in front of them, blocking them off. Isaac slammed on the breaks and lurched forward as another cruise slammed into the back of the car. He heard a crunch of car parts and wood. There was a loud shriek. "Oh no," Isaac croaked, his head bleeding from hitting the steering wheel.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams Evie screamed as they were hit, her injured arm getting rammed into the dash and causing fire to spread up her arm. She winced before looking back at the chest, seeing tentacles attempting to widen the cracks to escape. "No!" She exclaimed as the demon quickly slithered out of its chest, releasing a blood curdling scream.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Lucas was stunned by the wreck, but quickly snapped out of it upon hearing the demon screeching. Well, it looked like they were doing this thing here and now. Cars careened around them as Lucas got out. The demon was tearing its way out of the trunk. Police were piling out into the road, guns aimed at them. Several onlookers were recording. The beast crawled from the car, it's tentacles flailing. The police and onlookers were a chorus and scream and orders, getting on the radio and calling for backup, and citizens crying. Lucas lunged at the demon, burning it as he put his hands on it's body. It was trying to escape, possibly to eat a few onlookers, but he blocked it off. It seemed like this would be a pretty straight forward demon killing, but the two cars that had been following them pulled up. The backdoor opened on one, and a body was shoved out. It was Lars! He was still alive, but had clearly been viciously beaten. He groaned softly, picking his head up to look at up his friends through swollen eyes. His head began to expand, and his flesh tore. He cried out in agony as he began to transform.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "Lars!" Evie exclaimed, getting out of the car and, quiet foolishly, ran towards him through the crowd. "Fight back!" She yelled as she drew closer to him. She didn't care if she got hurt or killed, she was going to try something to help him.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers But he couldn't fight back. By the time she got to him, Lars was already dead, and a monster was wreaking havoc on what was left of his body. The black beast that scuttled forth blinked it's huge, red eye at her, then let out an angry cry and lunged for her. Isaac just managed to snatch her and pulled her away. The police opened fire on the demon, but that seemed to do fuck all, other than piss it off more. It scurried towards them and began tearing into cars and officers. Lucas had just finished destroying the first demon. He was exhausted, but he turned on the second one. A flash of light, and he was suddenly standing between the demon and the police. A helicopter flew overhead, a news crew filming the entire stand off. "You need to get people out of here!" Isaac shouted over the noise at any cops that would listen.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "All units, fall back, I repeat, fall back!" An officer ordered, the others making people stand back so they wouldn't become casualties. Evie watched in horror and sorrow as another friend fell to the demon possessing them, her nails digging into her palm enough to leave behind angry red half moons. Remembering the vial of holy water Isaac had given her, she grabbed it before looking at the demon who was once Lars. It might not work and cause her to become a signal for other demons, but she had to take a chance. Without hesitation, she threw it at the demon in hopes of it either breaking near, on, or even it swallowing the liquid.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers The demon let out a cry as the holy water burned it. It whipped around to face Evie and lunged at her, leaving an opening for Lucas for jump onto it, holding on for dear life as it burst into flames.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams Evie quickly backed away from the burning demon, watching as the surrounding crowd screamed in fright, took pictures or videos, or just watched with her. The truth was out now, the cult wouldn't be able to hide now.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Once the demon was finally reduced to ash, Lucas was left huddled on the ground. He had been so focused on the task at hand that he hadn't really noticed how large the crowd around him was. They were gasping, pointing, taking pictures. He pulled his scarf up desperately and tried to curl in on himself. He was weak from destroying two demons back to back, and all he wanted to do was disappear from this moment.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams Evie ran to his side, gently placing an arm around his shoulders. "It's okay. I'm here, Lucas, I'm here." She said soothingly, trying to coax him to stand so they could leave. "If you have enough strength, go to the hotel. Isaac and I will meet you there." She whispered.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers He shook under her arm. He didn't have the strength to teleport, but he could make it to the car. Once in the backseat, he curled up with his knees to his chest. "Take him back to the hotel," Isaac said, poking his head in. "I'm gonna stay here and talk to the cops about what's going on. Hopefully this can get that subway raided."</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "Hopefully." Evie echoed before driving back to the hotel, trying to get people to move and leave Lucas alone as they tried taking pictures of him. She eventually got away and back to the hotel, helping Lucas up to their room and onto a bed. "There. We're safe now." She assured him</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers Lucas tugged the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around himself. This had been why he dreaded going public with this. His fear of people, plus being bombarded by the media, would make him miserable. Hopefully, once this all blew over, he could live out the rest of this reincarnation's life in peace and avoid being brutally murdered like usual. He turned the TV on and watched the news stories unfold. Isaac was shown talking about the goings ons of the last few days, and even what lead up to this years prior. The subway was, indeed, being raided, and people in cloaks were shown being stuffed into police cars.</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "See? We brought them to justice and no more demons will be released. You're a hero." Evie smiled before gently giving him a side hug. She knew it wasn't usual for his incarnations to be seen as a hero, but someone had to see it for him. "I know it's not vinyl, but I saved some Louis Armstrong songs on my phone if it will help calm you down." She offered.</s> <|message|>Joe Chambers He nodded as he fidgeted with the blanket. Music would certainly take his mind off things. He looked back at the raid on the TV. The news helicopter filming it was hoving right over the subway entrance. He could see the familiar form of Isaac down below talking to the authorities. Suddenly, a group of cultists burst from the subway, guns blazing. They sprayed the police with bullets in retaliation, resulting in an all out fire fight. Isaac fell to the ground. Lucas leaped towards the TV, pressing his hands against it anxiously. Isaac wasn't getting back up...</s> <|message|>Evangeline "Evie" Williams "Isaac!" Evie screeched in fear and worry for their friend as she saw him get shot. A shaking hand covered her mouth. "No...no, no, no, no. Isaac, please don't leave him. You can't leave him alone." She begged, unable to see what was happening as Lucas blocked the screen in his worry. Tears stung her eyes as she fought back sobs.</s>

<|message|>Joe Chambers He looked back at her, his dark eyes anxious and sad. Lucas rubbed his face on his sleeve, drying the beginnings of his own tears. He stood and went over to her, taking her hand and squeezing it for reassurance.</s>

<|description|>Alonzo Solandis Appearance: Alonzo is fairly tall and lanky giving him a permanently teenager look. He looks as though he never really grew into his limbs, and can be slightly clumsy at times. He does keep himself fit, but isn't all too much to look at until you catch sight of his tattoos. He's turned himself into a living canvas - with art inked into most available space. His forearms are near completely covered - the left with runes and a compass done in blackwork, and the right a stormy sea, hiding a kraken under the waves. More tattoos trail up over his shoulders and back, but those he doesn't show off unless asked. He has bleach blond hair, cropped close at the sides and longer on the top that he claims as natural, but his dark brows and the peroxide on his bathroom cabinet say otherwise. He has piercing blue eyes, that are occasionally obscured behind a pair of large, round glasses. He has a single piercing in his tongue, but not many people realise. He can usually be seen dressed in comfortable hoodies, sweaters and jeans - usually in shades of blue and beige. Gender: Male Age: 20 Occupation: Artist Plant Essence: Lavender Superpower(s): Alonzo has a healing aura about him. He can heal minor wounds with a well-spoken word. He's tried this power on most scrapes, scratches, even a stomach ache or two - but he can't figure how to make it work for himself. He can also calm situations by speaking, although this doesn't work as well as he often hopes - he'd much rather no one get hurt in the first place. Personality: Alonzo is incredibly soft spoken. He is rarely confrontational and is kind to a fault. He sees the best in people even when they don't necessarily deserve it - this causes him to become a bit of a pushover in certain situations and is often walked over in arguments. He is polite and civil a majority of the time, and isn't quick to anger. He can be somewhat snarky and scathing when comfortable with people, or when talking to himself and so one can often hear him swearing softly under his breath when he thinks no one can hear him. He can also be self-deprecating at times, not trusting himself or his own skills and abilities. History: Alonzo grew up with his grandmother in a quiet part of town and to most he was a pretty unassuming and inoffensive kid - but he was his grandmothers world. His parents wanted nothing to do with him when he was born so he was handed over to his closest relative. His grandmother was a pagan, and taught him all she knew about herbs and spices and what they could do for him if he set his intentions right. She passed on her love of cooking and Alonzo tried to incorporate what he'd learnt - setting intentions in his cookies and sigils into his bread. When she passed away, Alonzo was untethered. Lost and without direction. He threw himself into his passions, often disappearing for weeks at a time and barely speaking to anyone. He discovered his powers in the months after his grandmothers death; he was on his way to the art store when he watched a small child slip and fall in front of him. He rushed over and was greeted by teary eyes, with grazed knees and sore palms from the pavement. He murmured his sympathies, brain whirring with how to find the little boys mother when the tears stopped, palms lost their redness and the grazes all but disappeared; leaving behind a smudge of dirt and the faint smell of lavender. The encounter stuck with him for weeks afterwards and no research could be found. His first thought was maybe animal essence but it didn't match up to anything he could find online about animals that could heal themselves. And it still didn't explain the lavender. He kept it quiet until the broadcast on tv. He stood in his living room with painting forgotten on his easel, listening quietly before making a beeline for his laptop and his grandmothers notebook. He flipped the page open to lavender, one he knew all too well but had never thought to check before. He bought the conference ticket with money he made from selling a few of his paintings, finally freeing up some space in his spare room and jittery with anticipation for meeting others like him. Miscellaneous: Solandis means 'delicate flower' in Old English! He's also super queer but doesn't shout it from the rooftops.</s> <|message|>Mara Harrington As Mara stepped into the vast hall, the air conditioning provided some relief. Hot weather didn't do much for an already irritable mood. Just as she'd expected, though, a volunteer explained that the test for refund eligibility wasn't possible just yet. Mara resisted the urge to huff. Of course. There'd probably be some excuse later on too. Taking one of the few empty seats at the back, she read over the itinerary and frowned. Either it was full of misprints, or someone had gone and put different activities in the same timeslots. Activities that looked rather less than helpful, to boot. Water balloon fight? She gave a hollow laugh. While Conner would undoubtedly love it, it was safe to say that was out of the question for her. Which left the panel discussion. She could only hope it wouldn't be as condescending as she suspected. It wasn't long before the conference started. A generic pseudo-inspirational speech, a rundown of self-evident rules... Well, so far it was meeting her expectations. Good thing she kept those expectations low. What she hadn't been prepared for, however, was the group activity. Stifling a groan, she traipsed towards the "2" sign, beside which a small group gathered. Public speaking was not her forte. Putting up with people who jumped at the chance to talk about themselves, even less so. Her gaze drifted to her scuffed boots, and she shuffled back from the group for their own safety as her heart began to thud. Right now she felt like that awkward kid in school again, with nothing interesting to say. Someone else piped up - Dani, even less at ease by the look of it. The nervousness, and the longing for an essence, were things Mara could relate to all too well. As people scoffed at Dani's words, Mara found herself glaring at them. Yeah it was none of her business, and she knew she was likely asking for trouble, but for some reason she couldn't help it. One by one, Dani's family went next, Abby having the right idea. Once her 'speech' was over, Mara breathed deeply and looked up. The longer she waited, the tauter her nerves stretched, and that wouldn't be good for anyone. Best to get this over with. Plus, she'd freaked Dani out earlier. The least she could do was help make her more comfortable. "Mara. Lived in Florida my entire life. Plant essence, namely lemon..." God it sounded even weirded spoken out loud. "In other words, electricity. Don't ask. As for fun facts, I, uh..." Scrambling for a remotely interesting fact, she struggled to keep looking at the crowd and not at the floor. No, she was NOT going to act like that insecure kid she'd once been. She had to keep her defenses up. "Does not really being one for fun facts count? But if it's a must, I've always liked lemon flavoured stuff... I guess this explains it." Whew, just like that it was done. Now able to relax somewhat, Mara waited for the next person to speak up.</s> <|message|>Charles Grunewald - tea Flame @GreysonEA Next to Conner in the Cabin 5 group stood a young woman with loosely waved red hair pulled up in a casual ponytail. With a large, broad frame adorned with equal parts fat and muscle, she wouldn't look too out of place wrestling a bear. She seemed to pay more attention to the two men with plant essences. "Uhh, hah," the woman drawled, shifting a little uncomfortably as her turn came. "Ah'm Natalie Jackson, but most folks call me NatJack. Ah live in Mississipi, but ah have an aunt around here so it wasn't too hard ta get here. Uh... Ah think Ah have a soybean essence? Well, Ah had the wahld dream lahk they say the essenced folks do, an' Ah ain't never had any'a that soy stuff before, so whah would mah brain think'a that on its own? But Ah don't know what mah powers are yet." NatJack took a breath like she was about to add something else, but a hesitant expression came to her face and she paused for a couple seconds before continuing. "Ah love grillin' and fishin', and ah've won a couple competitions. For fishin', at least." --- @LuckyBlackCat "Hello, everyone," a 40-something woman in the Cabin 2 group said with a dreamy wave. The chunky bracelets on her wrists clinked lightly as she continued gesturing throughout her introduction. "I'm Dolly. It's so nice to meet you all. I live near Orlando. I have been blessed with the iris essence." Dolly gestured to a delicate yellow flower in her hair. She pulled back some smooth black strands to show that the flower appeared to be rooted to her scalp. "I can plant temporary flowers on other people, too. Would anyone like one?" "Me! Me! I want one!" Destiny cried eagerly, jumping with enthusiasm and clenched fists in anticipation. Fauna chuckled and put her hand on the girl's shoulder to calm her down. "That sounds lovely, dear, but do remember to use your indoor voice and say 'please'," she reminded her daughter quietly, with a smile and a pat. Destiny stopped jumping and raised her hand instead. "Please! Please choose me!" The girl begged, quieter now, but still beaming with excitement. "Alright," Dolly chuckled. "You may go first, since you asked so politely. Though there's plenty to go around." At this, she glanced toward Mara for a moment before returning her attention to Destiny. "This might itch for just a bit..." Dolly parted the young girl's hair and touched her scalp near the back of her ear. As advertised, Destiny would feel an itching sensation for a few seconds, almost like ant or mosquito bites. Then, a thin stem emerged and quickly bloomed into a beautiful purple flower. The medium-sized accessory for Dolly looked comically, but cutely, big on a small child. "Purple stands for wisdom," Dolly addressed Destiny. "You must be pretty wise for your age!" "I am! I have the best grades in my class," Destiny boasted with a proud grin on her face and her hands on her hips. People in the crowd stared and gasped in awe. Even Abagail raised a brow and looked the girl's way. "How do I look, Momma?" Destiny asked, scratching a bit at the roots that now covered her head. "You look beautiful, dear. Like a fairytale princess!" Fauna answered enthusiastically. "Ooh! Thank you, mom. And thank you, miss Dolly!" Destiny said with a grateful curtsey, smile, and bob of her flower before returning to her mother's side. "You're very welcome," Dolly responded. "It should last for about eight hours. Then it will wilt and fall off painlessly on its own." Dolly shrugged with a wistful smile. "It's not a 'save the world' sort of power, but it's a nice opportunity to add a little more beauty to the world." "Oh dear... I've hogged the spotlight, haven't I? I'll make my fun fact quick. I'm a vegan and an advocate for animal rights. But not like PETA or anything, they're terrible."</s> <|message|>Mara Harrington @LostButterfly92 As remarkable as some essences were, Mara didn't want to appear too impressed. She wasn't going to give anyone that satisfaction. However, when Dolly spoke up and showed everyone the flower growing from her head, Mara's eyes widened. Not just from fascination, but wariness. Great, so people would be walking around Cabin 2 with large, flammable flowers rooted to their skin. Even more incentive to get these electrical problems under control. "Gonna have to pass," she replied to Dolly's offer. For all her love of plants and gardening, she'd had to get rid of her houseplants after a few close calls. Having one attached to her skin wouldn't be the smartest idea. "It'd be a shame to fry it." Shuffling back and pulling up her rubber gloves, she watched Dolly demonstrate her essence on Destiny. Petals unfurled behind the child's ear, spreading into a huge purple flower. Apparently the colour wasn't random, as Dolly explained it stood for wisdom. "Huh... Not bad, I've gotta say," Mara admitted. Sure, it may not be a superhero power, but if the colour thing was accurate, it would be useful for figuring out people's traits and skills. Dolly would make a good teacher or therapist, if she wasn't one already. It was certainly better than her own essence. And thankfully, Dolly wasn't the type to go on and on about it, wrapping up her introduction quickly. Considering her and Dani, maybe the people in Cabin 2 wouldn't be so bad after all. Which still left the issue of the flowers. Arms folded, Mara inched further away from Dolly and Destiny. If it came across as rude, so be it.</s>

<|message|>Alonzo Solandis Alonzo gave Connor a brief smile before he started speaking. At least he wasn't going to be alone stuck with complete strangers - although they had only known each other a matter of hours. He half listened as Connor spoke, eyes flicking around the group to gauge the reactions of everyone else as he announced his sexuality to everyone. He had more nerve than Alonzo did. His eyes drifted to the young woman next in the circle, who seemed to be paying the pair of them more attention than anyone else in the cabin. He offered her a hesitant, but genuine, smile. Alonzo wasn't about to admit that he was slightly intimidated; Natalie, as she introduced herself, was only slightly taller than he was but looked as though she could snap him like a twig without a second thought. "Soybeans?" He murmured, trying to rack his brain for anything related to soybeans but all he could think of was soy milk - and he had no idea how that could translate itself into a power. "Maybe your dream had some sort of clue as to what your powers could be? Or maybe even how to kickstart them?" He asked; his curiosity piqued.</s>

<|description|>"Cedar" Species: Half-Bear Age: 8 (physically adult) Gender: Male Appearance: 10ft, 550lbs. Unusually long torso. Tawny brown fur with dark brown grizzling. Claws are aggressively trimmed and filed down to thick nubs. Concealed in thick holocaust cloak/robes, gloves, and heavy boots. Carries a coarse wooden staff. Cloak decorated with typical druid paraphernalia. Colorblind (Yellow-green) If disrobed, and on all fours, would pass easily as just a very large bear. Bio: Offspring from the "sordid" (depending on who you ask) relationship between a forest hermit and a she-bear. Learned his craft and appreciation for honesty, integrity, and reverence for natural beauty from his dad. His "Good looks" from his mother. Shy/sentimental. Has a brother the same age, and numerous younger siblings. Due to events in his home province before his birth, his father is magically connected with a rather expansive magical woodland, which suits him fine. Local logging town and his dad have a 'mixed feelings' relationship about each other. Cedar helps with diplomatic solutions. Is still young and naive in many ways, but shockingly adult and mature in others. Skillset: Woodcraft, basic potion lore, basic anatomy, ecology. Possesses "Speak to animals" spell-like ability. Superhuman strength. Superhuman sense of smell. Low-light vision Spells: "Enhance/grow vegetation" "Entangling roots/vines" "Light heal" "Detect magic" Equipment: Dark brown and green 'holocaust cloak'/robes. Large wooden staff. Small hand axe. Small boot knife. Ball of twine. Antler knapping tool. Flints. Other: Will arrive 'later' than other players.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar was not amused, and doubly so at expending energy only to have the dodgy bastard just float a smidge higher to miss the vines. As the lumbering imbecile approached, he slipped the pilfered kukri out of his belt, palmed the handle 'fight-style' in one hand while holding the vine still in the other, then waited for the inevitable attempted tackle. As the moron lunged, he instead dodged to the side, swung his weight against the vine to close back behind the bludgeoned mass of bloody streaks that called itself Ragnar the red, pulling the vine tight in the process like a rope, then quickly wrapping it around him, all in the same movement, before bringing the blade down hard across the back of the man's neck, then kicking him in the butt toward the window he had slung mud through earlier. "I AINT GOT TIME FER YA DUMB BULLSHIT. FUCKOFF."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The room was clear, and she did not waste a moment pondering about it. Third floor, eyes activated... Jazdia usually never bothered with vines and overgrown proliferating around her. But this time they grow so quickly that she instinctively slowed her pace down. When the next floor reached, however, she started to despise it even more. "A friendly... magically enchanted construct, great!" And true to that, besides making her feel rather squeamish, those overgrown were an active veil to her vision, and having to exert more power to pierce those layers was always a bother, especially when done in a place where the access to the sunray was limited. After treading through the moss-layered floor that felt like cheap, soggy carpet, Jazdia climbed another set of stairs and reached the door. It was opened but blocked by the overgrown. In sheer frustration, she unsheathed her long knife, channeled magic until the blade was glowing hot, and slashed the moss, vines, and all. She was half expecting an ambush but found that the welcome was rather lukewarm. Carefully her eyes spied the coast. She saw the spectral doctor Solomon near another room, smaller than the floors below with myriads of magical emitters installed between it and another internal room in which the prince could be seen sitting and reading without a care in the storming world around his small cubicles. The wizard was up there... Was he really that snob he thought of himself as ascended being or something? The elf grabbed her arrow in a batch of six and took her time to enchant them with the explosive spell that would automatically explode after reaching a certain distance. A bit more expensive than usual, but look where she was now! The sun was shining directly above her head making the cost almost negligible. When the wizard finished his summoning, Jazdia had already finished her arsenal. The first one nocked and the bow was drawn in full, it whistled in the air before blasting its target with fire and crystalized shrapnel. She betted the wizard never heard about surface-to-air missiles before.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- This box. Well, if it was premature to assume the sealed room was worth investigating, this box was certainly not. It lacked an easy was to quickly access, with the only entrance like areas lacking an obvious means of opening. A notable discovery. Solomon noticed that the rest of the room lacked any supplies, making the ballista useless. By now, he could see the servants summed by Asevor, and the preparation of another spell. So, for the time bring, Solomon's priority would have to switch again. What lay in the box would probably be safest within. Solomon turned his attention towards the sky back out within the open air, embers blowing across the lower sky, Asevor flying well enough away from the flames. Violet floated listlessly where Asevor was previously located. Unfortunate his altitude was much farther than Cedar's plant tower could reach. Solomon began preparing another spell. He needed range, and he lacked his own. Likewise, the shadows were useless in combat and Violet was out of sorts. Likewise, many of his allies also lacked range, at least from what he could see. Jazdia had her bow, but Cedar's beanstalk seemed to be the extent of his range. The others were either incapacitated or close range fighters. The only other archer he was aware of was Veronica, but her whereabouts were unknown to Solomon. Black wisps of magical energy twisted with silver began to coil around his arms, collecting within the palms of his hands. "August, leave the brambles, give aid here. Violet, come to sense." said Solomon needlessly. Yet, he spoke anyway to help give him some clarity. The range of that spell was unknown to Solomon, but he saw the effects it had when it was contained within the dining hall. If Asevor could magnify its area of effect, then such a caustic cloud would be detrimental, not only to his allies, but to the servants and citizens who remained in the village, fighting the fire. Up until now, August fed mana into the brambles, growing them even as Asevor's wizards burned them. He remained below the ground, making it very difficult for them to drive him out. When Solomon called, he positions the thorny vines over as much flammable material as possible and then immediately drew the mana from within. This effectively killed the vines, letting the fire burn them into ash, raining embers onto various buildings. Though most of them were evacuated, the ensuing uproar of fire could still keep the mages busy leaving them to deal with the fire they started. This action also helped supplement his own mana stores along with the pools Cedar had created funneling them towards the keep. The ground rumbled as August gave Cedar's sky scraper another burst in height. The growth of the structure was no where near as far as Cedar's initial burst, but should be just enough to attempt another grab at the floating mage. The remaining mana went into the pool for Cedar's access as well as reinforcing the stalk as to not topple over its own weight. Violet momentarily remained still unaware of what had occurred. The three effects cast upon her were of little consequence, but it left her mind scattered. Aware but not observant, she took a moment to realize how inactive she was being. After regaining her composure, Violet resumed what was requested earlier. She flew higher to match Asevor's altitude, though a fair distance father than her previous encounter. He was surrounded by some odd raven human hybrid monsters. If they do not engage, Violet was to deliver another ear piercing shriek. As for Solomon, he was finalizing his spell, calling upon yet another of his undead allies. Despite being several stories above the ground, the floor broke as another entity formed from a mound of newly formed soil, as though it had always been below the surface. The figure of a woman, dressed in a formal dress rose. The dress was yellow and white, a large bow tied around the waist. Puffed fabric was held at her shoulders leading to fine silk sleeves. The front of the skirt held several frills, and outfit trimmed in lace. Her features were fair, though grayed. As one of the dead, she was very well preserved. She had blond hair with a single braid that flowed down over her shoulders. Suddenly, her body lurched forward as the back of the dress tore. A ghostly mirror of the woman, joined by the hip, almost like a soul escaping from her own body emerged. The physical body and ghostly upper body of the same woman remained conjoined in this way. The only difference between both forms was the spectral woman was dressed in under clothing, of simple loose fitting garb and less than neat hair. Likewise, unlike the color that made up her dress, the ghostly apparition was entirely pale white. Two bodies it appeared to be, yet only one entity she was. "No!" the odd undead spoke. The voice came very much from the spectral head, the physical body displaying very little animation. Whatever she did, it was the ghostly torso, the physical body not acting at all. "No, I swear whatever it is you call, I refuse." The woman folded her arms, turning away from Solomon, the physical puppet turning shortly thereafter. "This is not up for discussion. I need your skill in the arcane arts to combat Asevor. How you fair afterward will rely on it. If you so require, I will speak indomitably. Favor is earned, and otherwise you leave me without choice." Solomon spoke softly, yet sternly. As so much he had allies that saw him favorably, circumstances of their past where Solomon could not save them, there were those who looked upon him with disdain. Petra was one such person. If one knew of the atrocities Petra was a part of, her fate might not seem so undeserved. However, it mattered not. If it were not for Solomon's binding, she would nary care for what was happening. Yet, his words were true. Even without the control Solomon had over her, she was still bound to him. "Fine. You want to bring down the man surrounded by Xelthos birds? Don't call me again once that's done." No longer heeding any of Solomon's words of advice about Asevor or otherwise, the physical body moved for once. Her arm latched onto a small book once stashed under the thick ribbon tied around the torso of her dress. Flipping through the pages, she held the book up in which her ghostly hand laid upon one of the pages. She quickly lifted her hand off the page. Bright light emanated off the page, streaked from it to her hand, and then from her hand it flew straight towards Asevors location like an arrow. Shortly after the ray of light, Petra also took flight in a similar manner Asevor demonstrated.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Ragnar rampaged through with the grace of a rolling boulder, missing the bear in the first pass as his maimed leg prevented proper turning. The vines touching him rapidly sizzled and burned, his protective aura preventing both following blows as he swung the axe with abandon. It bit deep into Cedar's arm, the tips of his furs curling from the blazing heat emitted... yet the strength displayed seemingly pale in comparison to the previous performance. The northlander was, inevitably, burning out. Far above, one of the crow spirit reacted as it swiped at the incoming arrow, the following explosion engulfing it almost entirely. Yet by the time it dissipated the creature was still there, a bit translucent than before and missing half of a wing with body full of holes yet otherwise remained floating in the air. Another met the banshee head-on, the two semi-incorporeal beings descending on each other in a tangle of claws. The third went for the conjoined Petra, but the light blast struck it head-on as it disintegrated with a shrill shriek. More than half of it vanished on the spot, but the rest of the crow spirit seemed to be gathering together to reform into a smaller version of itself. Asevor, floating away from the next vine outburst, added the last stroke onto his tesseract. "Caustic Cloud of Ruzpin." The spell construct lazily floated forward, belching sickly-green cloud of acid that spread and slowly descended over the fort proper. It wouldn't be as concentrated out here compared to the indoor usage, but it should cover a much wider area. Not taking any more chance of surprises, his spellbook flipped to another page as the archmage began tracing yet another imitation construct from his apparent safety. At this point the walls was completely abandoned as the fire spread with abandon, blood-splattered Yvonne and Reinhold descending away from the heat. The latter seemed grimly satisfied with whatever they've had done in the past five minutes, the previously defended rampart now littered with corpses of the mages and mercenaries. The two noticed Ragnar going wild on their bear companion, the hunter nocked and fired an arrow at the crimson brute to no apparent effect. Meanwhile, Yvonne caught the expanding green far above and could only mutter one word. "Fuck."</s>

<|message|>"Cedar" Loud snarling and a roar were the only sounds the bear made before transitioning into a foul torrent of curses and epithets about what ragnar did with his own mother. The futile arrow shot by Reinhold did at least buy a moment of distraction that he used to grab hold of the nearest set of vines near the wall, which he willed to begin an all out assault on the mostly naked idiot, in the form of multiple vines lashing like bullwhips. As each hit and caught fire, another came in right after, in a dizzying blur of green and smoke, as he did his best to control them while dodging the axe. Healing would have to come when an opening presented itself, until then, not letting up the pressure was the only option. Ragnar was strong, but not fast. The vines however, were very fast indeed.</s>

<|description|>Dominic Dominic is an American military intelligence officer with a strong sense of patriotism and a determination to win the war against the Soviet Union. He possesses a calculating mind, as evidenced by his ability to plan and execute complex operations. He also displays sadistic tendencies in his methods of interrogation, suggesting that he enjoys inflicting pain and humiliation on others. His confidence borders on arrogance, as he taunts and provokes Natasha throughout their confrontation.</s> <|description|>Natasha A Soviet military heroine and sniper with a strong sense of duty to her country. She's known for her deadly precision, having killed over 700 enemy troops during the war. Her popularity makes her an inspiration for Soviet soldiers. Despite being captured by Allied forces, she remains defiant and determined not to give up any secrets. Her sarcastic remarks indicate a sharp wit, while her physical strength allows her to resist Dominic's attempts at torture.</s> <|narrator|>In a world engulfed in war, the Allies capture the renowned Soviet sniper Natasha Volkova. The Allied intelligence officer Major Dominic Franke aims to break her and extract information. He taunts and tortures her, but she remains defiant, convinced that her people will rescue her. As their confrontation intensifies, they exchange insults and threats; he challenges her to fight back while expressing his intent to rape her after breaking her spirit.</s> <|message|>Dominic The bloody World War between Allies, Soviets, and The Empire of Rising Sun raged for a year now. It was a conflict for total domination, no alliances were held, and peace was not an option. Allies would not rest until the totalitarian regimes of the world were destroyed; Imperials believed that it is their divine destiny to rule the world, and Soviets were determined to make the world a single, glorious Soviet Republic. These times of total war spawned many heroes, such as Natasha Volkova, champion of the Soviet Union. Being a sharpshooter, she alone had terminated over seven hundred enemy troops, being a commando, she had infiltrated enemy lines numerous times, and being a hero, she had inspired countless soldiers to join the cause of Communism, even more to die for it. No Allied or imperial soldier felt safe from her sniper rifle when she was on the "hunt." Present on every recruiting poster, mentioned in every military academy, she was a paragon for her people, an Angel of Death for her enemies. Her mere presence on the battlefield inspired her troops and had a devastating effect on enemy morale. But now she was in peril. The assault on the Allied city, Genewa, was a failure. The enemy used a strange new tech called "chronosphere" to bring in huge amounts of reinforcement. The Soviet forces were encircled and are now getting slaughtered. The enemy had both land and air superiority, and it seemed that the small part of the city the Soviets had managed to capture would become their graveyard. But Natasha would not surrender. Not to the capitalist pigs. Not to anybody. She was making her last stand in the ruins of one of the houses they had captured. With deadly precision of her sniper rifle, she was taking down every soldier that got in range, killing as many Allies as she could before her time ran out. But she was running out of ammo, and she could see the enemy bombers on the horizon. Her last thought before the bombs fell on her position was that she had fulfilled her duty to the People.</s> <|message|>Natasha America, the bright and beautiful is what Major Dominic Franke loved and would die for. His parents were immigrants from the fallen Iron Curtain of the USSR, and he had grown up hearing horror stories about Communism and the things done in its name. He joined up nearly a decade ago to help keep things quiet on the border but when war broke out, he found his calling. True, he wasn't a large-scale commander or leader of troops; instead, Dominic specialized in something a little more specific - intelligence, specifically extraction of it. Normally, his job was just dealing with double agents and defectors, people who came to him and told him everything they knew. Dominic would then filter what was useful from what wasn't and pass it along to higher ups. This time, however, he had been given a much more interesting job. A recent bombing run had decimated a Soviet-held region of the city, and Allied forces moved in right away to secure the area. When there, they had found the infamous sniper Natasha Volkova, reportedly responsible for over five hundred kills. The celebrity in her home land had been found alive and brought in. And Dominic would have the pleasure of breaking her to find out what she knew. In order to learn whatever he could, Dominic had been granted carte blanche. Anything he needed to do to break her, the Soviets would see this hero broken by Allied forces, shown that they weren't the only ones who could be monstrous. In his dress uniform, stripped of rank pins and ribbons, Dominic entered the cell where Natasha was being held. Happy to see that she was naked and tied to a chair as he had instructed, he said, holding up a file with her picture clipped to the front of it. "Soviet hero and now captive of the Allied forces," he began, not wasting time asking her to surrender. Instead, he stated the obvious: "I will hurt you, humiliate you... I will break you, and I will enjoy every moment of it." Setting down the folder, he smirked a little. She had claimed at least three people he called friends. Without warning, he lashed out, the back of his hand across her face serving as an opening movement.</s> <|message|>Dominic The last thing Natasha remembered were the Allied bombers. She thought she would die. She was prepared to die. Yet instead, she woke up naked in a cell, captive to capitalist scourge. A grim irony of fate, indeed. As the Allied interrogator finished his speech, she raised her eyebrow. "You're really fond of yourself, aren't you?" Her sarcastic taunt was interrupted by a strong slap to the face. She forced a smile, though she did not feel funny at all. Natasha knew what was going to happen to her. She was going to get tortured and raped over and over again. Telling them what they wanted to know, if they wanted to know something, wouldn't help. She was Natasha Volkova, a bloody icon. The Allies won't stop until she was nothing more than a mindless husk which they could then show to everybody to prove their superiority. On the other hand, her position within the Soviets was also her hope for avoiding this grim fate. She was too important. Natasha was more than certain that her people would keep trying to rescue her until they succeeded. That is why she couldn't let that pig break her. She was the Angel of Death, and she would not give her captors the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. So she decided to play with her interrogator some more. "Congratulations," she said with a thick Russian accent. "You managed to hit me. Few men have accomplished this. And none of them are still alive." She theatrically looked on the chair she was tied to. "True, I was immobilized... but it's still quite an achievement... for a pig."</s>

<|message|>Natasha He smiled a little bit as she looked down at the chair, she was trying to goad him, to make him angry. Normally this was the last thing that anyone would do in this situation but Dominic knew that she was trying to make him mad, was she hoping that he would make a mistake and somehow she would be able to get free, or did she plan to drive him to kill her before he could break her and that way avoid divulging any secrets. She was smarter than most and that made her dangerous, but Dominic was also dangerous and more than willing to play along with her little game. Oh, you think that you can take me down? He asked with a chuckle as he looked down at the chair, bolted down to the floor as he had instructed, the rope tying her was a nylon cord, thin but also very strong, the room gave her no weapons that she would be able to catch him off guard with. A sniper, a coward who kills from afar thinks that she can fight me? Reaching into his pocket he withdrew a small tool, a seat belt cutter that was designed so that it couldn't be used to cut human flesh. Reaching in between her breasts, making sure to get a more than generous feel, he quickly slit the cord that held her to the chair and pulled enough slack to let her finish the job before stepping back away from an easy strike. Get up and fight me then Soviet whore. He mocked her as he removed his jacket, slowly rolling his shoulders and neck in order to limber up. I think I will enjoy fucking you once I have tenderized you a bit.</s>

<|description|>Sana Rawn Gender: Female Race: Human Age: 31 Height: 5' 7" Weight: 125 lbs Alignment: Chaotic Good Significant Other: Hugh Van Halder Hair color, texture, length, style: Dirty ash blonde with layers from ears to shoulders. Her hair is usually worn with shorter layers crimped and pulled back with a few loose strands around her face, the longer layers are curled under and left loose falling to her shoulders. Eye look, shape & color: Milk Chocolate with amber specks, round eyes with a slight slant at the outer corners. Skin Tone: Tanned with olive undertones. Body Type: Toned body over all with very defined arm muscles. Voice/Accent: Her voice has a tad deeper intonation than most women and is slightly raspy. Though not skilled in the magical arts of her people Sana has a stunningly beautiful voice when she sings but it is something that she rarely ever does. Clothing: She wears a very simple halter top made of tanned leather that tied around the back of her neck and is trimmed in a deep brown rawhide. She wears a matching shorts that is slit on each side of her thighs as to not to hinder her movements. Her boots are a soft suede material that come up to just below her knees and lace up the entire way, soft soles, no heels. She wears a sheer mantle that flows to the ground and is trimmed in the same material as her halter top, usually pulled over her arms to hide their definition. Armor: Snake Band Arm Cuff with Enchanted Garnet (Barkskin) Weapons: She carried one small dagger that is used for cutting up meat before cooking for the most part though is works as a throwing dagger if need be. Nothing special about it, the blade is 6 inches of plain steel while the hilt is carved oak. Her other and main weapon is a Recurve Bow that was hand carved for her, she uses cedar arrows that resist warping. Silver Dagger found in the chest of a Liches Layer. Spells: None Natural Abilities: Agility, acrobatics, gymnastics, ambidextrous Skilled: Excellent marksman with a bow and skilled dagger thrower. Knows some close combat fighting, using her bow in a staff like manner. When weaponless Sana will use her knowledge of acrobatics and gymnastics, combined with her agility, to attack and defend herself. Personality: Quiet and untrusting, hard to get close to. She prefers to be left alone and detests asking for help. A very stubborn woman who prefers to do things alone than in a group. She can be quite volatile if provoked and tends to be a bit moody. History: She comes from a wandering band of gypsy that she left long ago for she refused to become what they wanted her to be. Another dancer and entertainer for the group. She was a tom boy growing up who preferred to spend time with a bow and arrow than a person. Though she never sought the way of her people she is very defensive of them and knows their ways. Skilled in song, dance, showmanship. Nothing traumatic happened during her childhood or growing up but being the typical teenager, hated what her parents wanted for her and in the end left those she knew for a world she wanted to know. After she reached maturity she decided to leave the home and family she knew and set out on her own. Over the years she has worked in various towns trading furs from animals she has killed on her journeys and worked mercenary from time to time as wars broke out, utilizing her skills as a marksman. Currently she wanders the land hunting and selling fur when she reaches a new town. (A more in-depth history can be provided if needed.)</s> <|message|>Sana Rawn Sana couldn't help but chuckle as she watched Ellyn dash off to grab her harp. The woman was the oddest she had probably ever run across. Flinging herself on perfect strangers to save their lives, have seemingly no issues with the Lich but she sees a naked man and spins around to go the other direction. Her innocence made her quiet the character and even though Sana found her a tad naïve at times she had grown quickly to enjoy Ellyn being around. Ellyn was probably the purest of heart among them, something the group could use about now. Waiting for Ellyn to return she glanced over at Hugh and sighed wistfully as she found him sitting there puffing away on his pipe. Things had been rough for the last couple of days and she knew they were only going to get worse. What they had been through already was in her mind, nothing but a taste of the horror that awaited them in the future. If it had just been her, if things hadn't progressed the way they had with Hugh, she wouldn't give it a second thought. She never wanted to give up this life. She always planned to die on one of her adventures. Death would be a grand adventure. Things were different now though. It wasn't just herself she had to consider, it was Hugh as well. He had already lost his order, what else had he lost that he hadn't told her about. Taking a deep breath she pushed the thought out of her mind and smiled at Ellyn as she returned. "Okay, you.." she started before perking a brow as Artos made his way over to them. Sana couldn't help but grin and reply to his question of asking what they were up to with a "nothing." Sounding a bit more chipper and Ellyn like than she had meant to. Looking back over towards Ellyn she winked and then bowed slightly and gestured with her hand for Ellyn to begin. Sanas part in it would come shortly after Ellyn began so she awaited the songstress to start. It seemed fitting, Ellyn was the first one in the group to get everyone to shut up, perhaps she could get the group to cheer up.</s> <|message|>Bjoric Stoutsmith Bjoric grumbled under his breath with every step, he was exhausted from the lack of sleep and exertion. His face hurt where Ellyn had smashed her harp into it and he was dripping wet from having to walk through a waterfall with his armor in order to get outside. He dropped his armor with a loud clang next to the cart, he pulled his pack open and grabbed an oil cloth. Sitting against the cart wheel with a sigh of relief he began rubbing down the steel with the cloth, not wanting to risk rust. Looking up from his work he saw the other were still quite active which irked Bjoric. "How the hell are ye all still up? It's taking every bit o' will I got not to just fall asleep on me armor." Once he saw Ellyn return with that damned harp he groaned. "Oh you've got to be joking." Once he finished oiling the armor he circled around behind the cart for a little privacy as he changed into dry clothes for sleeping. Laying on his bedroll he hoped he could sleep through whatever the elf had planned.</s> <|message|>Ellyn En'arr Ellyn blushed instantly upon seeing Artos, but giggled with Sana anyway. She begun to understand Sana and Artos a little bit more and about other people's mindsets, she wanted to know how everyone else was though with their thoughts about her. Upon hearing what Sana said she decided to get a move-on and started to play with her harp what was written on the scroll in a very excited manner, looking to Sana for her encouragement incase she got some of the notes wrong or missed some completely. As she kept playing she had a flashback off all her memories emerge in her head, from the start of her life, to the elven bullies and even the girl giving her the harp. Eventually progressing onto now… Her quest, how she got onto it even though everyone deemed her useless at the start, to making everyone sleep with her sleep song, even the little cheeky kiss she gave to Artos. As all these flashbacks started she kept playing as she began to sing her bits and enjoy what was going on…smiling at Artos and Sana, appearing to have lots of fun while at it.</s>

<|message|>Sana Rawn Sana nodded towards Ellyn as she began to play, stepping up next to her slowly she found her eyes drifting shut as they always had in the past when she would get lost in the rhythm of the music; hips began to sway as each note was plucked on the harp. Sana feeling the music building, the hoops and coins on her clothing starting to play a percussion back ground to Ellyns cords as her body began to move more. Hips rolling slowly at first, then faster as her arms and chest began to twist in tandem with her hips. Her head lowering slightly as her eyes opened, looking towards the ground as it was her time to join into the song itself. Her body still moving as lips parted and song followed. Sanas voice was nothing like Ellyns, it was not pure as crystal or light and airy. It was richer, deeper, certain words rolling over her tongue with a rough finish; sultry. Blue - Ellyn Pink - Sana White - Duet It's a pulse in my veins, no delays It's a rain, it's a chamber of dust As I'm viewing the plains A drop of blood A flood of anger for old times Hunger - Save me One world depending on me I have the force in me The truth will be revealed Higher - Faster I am the fuel to set you free I am your destiny Inhumane I'm ashamed in the pouring rain Disinform, set the norm You're to blame Spin the wheel, break the seal to conceal That I'm finding it so real I'm ashamed, not the way that I want to be Have to bare my own soul, unveil me To discern it's my turn, have to learn I have to face it A drop of blood A flood of anger for old times Hunger - Save me One world depending on me I have the force in me The truth will be revealed Higher - Faster I am the fuel to set you free, I am your destiny The music continued, it was joy and desire as Sana and Ellyn wove such drastically different voices and ways together to create an art form. Sana would smile over at her partner in song from time to time, giving her a reassuring wink. She was performing beautifully, truly a bard in every sense of the word. Sana continued her dance, spinning as her feet glided over the cool sand of the desert night; her body moving like the snake band that hugged her arm. At certain point her eyes locking with Hughs, a look of passion crossing her features, then it was gone as she would look away from him. Reserving that for him alone. She had fought what she was, being what she was for so long. Now she was beginning to understand that she could still honor where she came from without fear. Embracing it as she danced and sung along side Ellyn. As the song came to an end Sana had made her way over to Hugh, and while she had sung and danced for the entire group, the last line was reserved for Hugh alone.</s>

<|description|>Selci Dazzlecraft S e l c i D a z z l e c r a f t Age Twenty-Something Appearance Selci gives the appearance of a stereotypical gnome… for people who have never seen a gnome. She has lavender hair, a knack for whimsy and bright colors, and a cheerful disposition. Her eyes are somewhat reminiscent of a grayed blue and her skin is devoid of calluses or bruises. She is on the taller end of gnomes, especially female gnomes, but still quite diminutive; though she has on occasion been called a "stupid Halfling" which has hurt her Gnome feelings quite a decent amount. In terms of attire she prefers decadent albeit unrestrictive robes and dresses. Her hands are obscured by long cloth wrappings, and her hair is bonded back in a simple ponytail by a flamboyant binding. She is without a doubt the most eye-catching of the "Gnome Gang". Personality TBD Goal(s) Adventure is the name of the game for Selci, and nobody in the entire material plane is surprised. She's a bardling by heart with a deep knowledge of magic, song, and mischief. She's performed at taverns, fairs, and courts for her entire life so it's been about long enough to change gears and have a far more interesting life. Hex Color #DB7093</s> <|message|>Vhik-Clik Not-a-goblin. Vhik-Clik punched the air, "Yeah! Adventure!" and her red eyes lit up with excitement. Finally, a chance to stretch her legs, test out her new bombs, and meet new people. Hopefully they'd all stumble upon some great inventor, or some incredible wizard who could turn her into a gnome. There was just one little nagging detail; "Wait, we're fighting goblins?" she asked, showing an inkling of reluctance No sooner had the words left her mouth did the horror of her situation dawn on her. Oh shoots! They'll notice me being sympathetic and think I'm a goblin! Quickly! Act cool! "Ummm, not like that's a problem or anything. Yeah! Team Goblin slayers! I'm ready!" she said quickly, her heart racing with the lie. Alright, now act casual. With that she went back to drinking her ale through a straw, confident that no-one was any the wiser and desperately trying not to react to her ever-eager companion's relish</s> <|message|>Keebler Hearth Old Keebs raised a thick eyebrow at Jip and his buffoonery, and the mug of ale that was comparatively enormous compared to the rest of his body connected to his lips out of a habit of drinking whenever things got kooky. I mean, he would´ve probably turned himself into a drunken mess either way, but his companions were speeding up the process. Maybe. "Oi, a real gnome´s gotta learn to fight with his fists just as well as when he´s got a sword!" Keebler proclaimed, with his fat head wobbling steadily in a circle. The small man attempted to climb onto the table but remembered his height and simply elected to fling his overweight body onto its surface, plopping onto the wood with a thud that made him seem like a sack of potatoes. A sack of disheveled, alcoholic potatoes. He stood up and spread his arms gloriously. "Watch this! Hyaah!!" Keebler threw himself down towards the ground in a body slam. Or more accurately, he attempted to but lost his balance and was slapped down by the forces of gravity and whatever gods were watching him from the skies, pointing and laughing. After a long pause of not moving or speaking, the other gnomes had realized that he had knocked himself unconscious.</s> <|message|>Selci Dazzlecraft S e l c i D a z z l e c r a f t --- The Hearty Wench Tavern Table --- "I'm as ready as a half-starved dwarf in an empty tavern!" The excitement in Selci's voice was unrelenting, almost like she was that exact dwarf in that exact tavern. She wasn't drooling at the mouth, but there was a visible shine in her wide, almost innocent smile. Goblins, Trolls, Orcs, Barbarians, a Lich King -- she was ready for whatever was ahead. Adventure was right around the corner, after all. She cheered with Jip and Vhik (despite Vhik's initial confusion at the quest) and snorted in amusement as Keeb had thrown himself to the floor. Though once she realized that Keeb wasn't getting back up her smile dropped momentarily. "Keeb? You okay?" She blinked. "Oh no. I think he's fallen asleep." A slight pause. "Wait. I have an idea." For a second she contemplated what to do to wake him up, before the simplest solution came to mind as she grabbed one of the ale-filled mug's on the table and subsequently dumped it on the old man's head. If the cold slosh of alcohol didn't work, well, she probably had a spell that would work. Probably.</s> <|message|>Vhik-Clik Not-a-goblin. V h i k - C l i k N o t - a - G o b l i n Focusing on blending in as she was, Vhik-Click was caught relatively unawares by the old gnome's performance. She was practically engulfed by a small tidal wave as he sent almost all the drinks flying. The Not-a-Goblin came back up spluttering, red-faced and smelling awfully of ale; "Shoots!" she cried, looking for the silly Keebler, "I've a mind to knock you on the head-" her cursing was caught short when she noticed he'd done quite a good enough job of that himself. There was a tangible moment when all gazed at the prone form of Mr. Hearth, expecting it to be a joke or something, but he remained quite still. "Is he dead?" Vee-See ventured, looking around for a stick to poke him with. Thankfully Selci Dazzlecraft had the idea to throw an ale in his face, See how he likes it! Vee-See thought with vindication. Although she couldn't help but wonder why Selci hadn't just cast a spell, the Dazzlecraft name being famous amongst gnomes and synonymous with impressive arcane feats. Vee-See mentally shrugged, she'd never know how bardlings worked</s> <|message|>Keebler Hearth There truly was no better solution to waking Keebler up than dousing him in alcohol. It was like a reminder aimed at his subconscious that it existed and was currently the only thing keeping him alive. He awoke in a mess of sputtering and grumbling, greedily licking his lips to take as much of it in as possible before his mind could even start forming coherent sentences again. It was a shame AA meetings didn´t exist in this world, as Keebler´s liver had reached the point where it could probably kill a dragon if one decided to eat him. "Hngh... I´m alive... this ain´t hell?" mumbled Keebler. He wiped his face with his hands, realized what he was doing, and then proceeded to lick them. "That sure knocked me out for a wink, this body ain´t what it used to be." He stood up and wobbled back towards his original seat. With luck, the other gnomes would simply not realize that he had failed in his attempt to show off. In his mind, this was a valid and intelligent strategy, and he even let out a self-congratulatory smirk. It ain´t easy bein´ the brains of this operation, he thought.</s> <|message|>Pidge Springcoil P i d g e S p r i n g c o i l --- The Hearty Wench Tavern Table --- Pidge couldn't help but to laugh at the ruckus they had caused. Everyone was excited for their adventure; some more than others. Drinks had been sent flying, Keebler knocked himself unconcious during one of his dumb stunts–it was a grand time to be a gnome. "Oi!" A voice shouted from behind the tavern counter. They had partied too hard; hard enough for the tavernkeep to get on their case. "What in the seven hells do you think you're doing? You're ruining a good drink and making a mess of me tavern!" He continued, roiling with anger at the ruckus. Mugs were spilled all over the ground, leaving sticky residue of beer and whatever alcohol the gnomes had ordered. It would certainly be a pain to clean up. Looking to her companions, Pidge gave a nod and hopped down from her chair. "Last one out has to clean it up!" She proclaimed, running to the door as fast as her stubby and short legs could carry her.</s> <|message|>Vhik-Clik Not-a-goblin. V h i k - C l i k N o t - a - G o b l i n The Not-Goblin leapt up with haste, sparing not a single thought to the welfare of the barkeep or whoever might need to stay behind. It was fairly easy to keep pace with Pidge, given to Vee-See's scrawnier and ganglier legs, no scrubbing the floor for me! Vhik-Clik ran straight into the street and was hit by a sudden chilly blast, made worse by her sodden clothes. Thank Molrok, the Goblin god of luck, she had chosen to wear a jumper today and not just her shirt. She put some consideration into lighting a bomb to warm herself up, but the last time she'd done that they'd gotten a guard afterwards to follow her around for 3 weeks until he got lost. Instead she turned to her companion, "The name's Vhik-Clik Not-a-Goblin, and you must be Pidge, right?" Vee-See made as if to hug a greeting to the slightly shorter Gnome, hoping to steal a bit of body heat in the process</s> <|message|>Jip Obblelfoms J i p O b b l e l f o m s Jip quickly drained the rest of his drink, slammed the empty mug down on the table and hurried after the others, excited to get down to the business of slaying goblins. "Alright ladies," Jip said to Pidge and Vee-See. "These gobs gotta have a lair somewheres, right? Anyone got tracking skills? I say we hit 'em in the middle of the day when they're mostly sleeping." He brushed his hands together, as if the job was already done.</s> <|message|>Selci Dazzlecraft S e l c i D a z z l e c r a f t --- The Hearty Wench Tavern Table --- As Keebler still seemed dazed (and rather confused) Selci smiled widely and gave a cheerful reply in reference to Pidge's proclamation that whoever was last would have to clean up the mess. "Good luck with the mess!" The bard was quick to follow Jip and Pidge out of the tavern's doors. One part of it being excitement to get to adventuring and the other part being that she honestly didn't want to clean up anything. Fun was her forte and cleaning up after her or anyone else was the opposite of fun. Her name was Selci Dazzlecraft, not Selci Janitorcraft, after all. Leaving Keebler to clean up felt like a kind of pyrrhic victory anyway considering the old dotting gnome had been boasting since she had met him and Selci found it amusing whenever his boasting turned into old man whining. As she exited the building, Jip appeared to be speaking to the other two members of the group. About the Goblin's lair. "I didn't know goblin-types slept during the day. But nobody taught me stories about goblins, because, well, there are no stories about goblins worth telling, I guess."</s> <|message|>Keebler Hearth Keebler´s underdeveloped and decaying brain registered the tavernkeep´s hostility and jolted his pathetic excuse of a body awake with the power of misplaced anger. Why was the man so keen on shouting up a storm when Keebler, in a move of efficiency and intelligence, had licked up most of the spilled ale? In the time it took him to formulate this rationalization for his never-ending rage, however, the rest of the gnomes had left him in the dust to deal with the mess. His thick eyebrows crumpled into an angry mess. "Why I oughtta!..." he wasn´t sure what he would do exactly, but it sure felt good to scream. He ran off as well, despite the keep´s raging in the background. In times like this, it was like his body had a separate energy reserve for escaping from the consequences of his poor decisions, and the man was out of the tavern in a wink, like a blurry blob of fat and hatred. He noticed the others were far ahead of him, and to make matters worse, more physically inclined. Or to be more accurate, they were just less physically disadvantaged than he was. His fury turned to desperation as he realized he´d need their help. "Oi!" "Wait up!!!"</s> <|message|>Pidge Springcoil P i d g e S p r i n g c o i l --- The Hearty Wench Tavern Table --- Pidge had been caught off guard, mostly due to the chilly blast of air and the sudden hug from Vhik-Clik. "A-Ah, yes, that's me. Pidge Springcoil, at your service!" Her hand went upwards, giving off an awkward salute to the goblin gnome. When Jip spoke up, however, Pidge realized that they hadn't thought up a battle plan. The gnome proposed that they should strike them while the goblins were sleeping, though Selci brought doubt to that statement. Reaching into her pockets, Pidge pulled forth the bounty letter, and read off the more important sections of the bounty to the group. "Well, the bounty says that a group of nearby farmers are having trouble with the goblins. Maybe we should talk to them first? See if they have an idea where the goblins are coming from. Sound good?"</s>

<|message|>Selci Dazzlecraft S e l c i D a z z l e c r a f t --- The Hearty Wench Outside --- The mission seemed as plain as day. A few goblins had been disturbing some farmers and a group of adventurers needed to solve it. To locate the goblin's den they would've needed to whatever village that called for help in the first place, so it wasn't like they couldn't go with the direct approach first. Selci just hoped they wouldn't run into trouble on the way to the farm. The roads that spanned rural communities often was a spot for highwaymen to pretty on unsuspecting merchants and adventurers, and that wasn't considering the thought of goblin ambushes or other such things. There could've been trouble before they even reached the village. Though, unlike others she wasn't itching for a fight, so she hoped it would be smooth sailing to the farming community. "How far away is this village of farmers?"</s>

<|description|>Serapis Race: Dracon Appearance: Standing about 6 feet, 5 inches tall (6'1 if one doesn't include his horns), Serapis has the appearance of a heavily-muscled fighter. His red skin, sharp horns, and strong tail all give the impression of power and authority. (Picture to be added later) Sex: Male Age: 35 Weapons: In addition to his fangs and claws, Serapis is highly skilled as a sword fighter and he is used to fighting with daggers, spears and bows. He also has a suit of armor, but rarely uses it anymore. As with all dracons, he has the ability to breathe a fine acidic mist. Abilities: Besides his breath weapons, Serapis is very strong, fairly quick, and has good aim with the bow. He's also a good administrator and has proven to be as responsible in running the orphanage as he was leading his men into combat. Personality: Serapis is kind and fair, but can be strict. He is like this because most of his adult life has required him to impose order on a chaotic situation for the good of others. He is adventurous, but has had to settle down since he became a father. Like his wife, Serapis is highly protective of his family, and he extends that protectiveness to all of the children in the orphanage. Quirks: He hides it well, but Serapis really hates it when items are out of order, even slightly. Usually, he waits until others have left the room or turned away, but if something is slightly crooked or tilted, he finds it annoying. Bio: After leaving his family's farm at age 18, he joined the army of Minbenthac and was wounded in combat a bit later. While recovering, he met Thayva and they hit it off quickly. After leaving the army they wandered for some time, eventually settling in a human realm after Arjun's egg had been laid. They started an orphanage on Thayva's suggestion and have lived among humans ever since. While his time is largely spent working on matters related to the orphanage, he has still managed to find some time to practice with his sword and other weapons.</s> <|message|>Serapis Aurelian opened a book in front of him. His book had some characters on it as well. Runes? Letters? Characters? Hieroglyphics? Maybe they were numbers? He wasn't even sure. "I think so. Haven't seen him in any of the sleeping quarters" "I suppose we can talk to him later, after class" he replied, trying to keep his voice down. -------------------- Laura straightened up and paid attention to the teacher. "Now, each of you have assignments to hand in. You may do so at the end of class. For now, we will continue to learn about the history of magic and the different kinds of mages. Who can tell me the difference between a wizard and a sorcerer? Yes, Jorn!" The halfling looked the instructor in the eye. "Wizards have to learn their magic, sorcerers are born with it." "That is correct, very good. Now, can someone else tell me what is the difference between the two of them and a warlock? Or a witch, for a female." -------------------- Serapis quickly caught up to the halfling. "Child, what is wrong? You can tell me." He didn't want to assume that the boy was mute, although it was a possibility which he could not rule out. "If you need something, I'll help." No response was forthcoming. At about the same time, he saw a human masseuse coming down the hall. She was dressed much like a dracon, in a loincloth and a top. Each were quite large for that kind of clothing, and she was well-covered apart from her stomach, arms, and legs. Her white skin and dirty-blonde hair made her stand out among the adult human women who worked at the orphanage. "Oh, Galatea. Didn't see you there." "Hello headmaster. What seems to be the problem?" Her voice was soft and soothing. "This young halfling doesn't want to speak. Or maybe he can't. Do you know his name?" "I'm afraid I don't, although I've worked on him before. This little one is unusually stressed for someone of his age. Not sure what happened to him. It used to be even worse when he first arrived. He never speaks to me, but his muscles tell me a lot." Serapis suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at Galatea's last statement.</s> <|message|>My Orphans Glad for her timing and the lack of traffic in the halls, Thayva quickly made her way to the large double front doors of the mansion. A few papers cluttered a board mounted to the wall beside the doorway, advertising various jobs from people in town for the orphans to take up come the weekends, among other bits of information all held up by rugged nails tacked into the board. Her tail swished behind her as she pulled the scroll from her waistband, unfurled it, and tacked it to an empty spot of board with a couple unused nails: the newest list of jobs. She scanned the other pages, checking for anything old or out of place. After tearing down a couple old job advertisements and pocketing a messily scrawled prank note of someone looking for anyone willing to fish out a fire-breathing duck trapped in one of the boys' privies before it blew up the mansion, she began her usual morning routine of opening the windows facing the front of the house to let in fresh air. She paused as an unusually cool breeze blew through the window she had just opened, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed at the crisp scent. The sweet, electric smell of an impending storm rode the breeze. Thayva leaned out the window, trying to get a good look at the sky. A line of gray clouds floated just above the tree line surrounding the front yard, looming with a puffy ominousness. Have to keep an eye on that. Thayva ducked back inside. Don't want the floors to rot because of an open window during rain. She turned and headed toward the kitchen. Driven by a hunger that had begun to gnaw at her stomach, she hoped to scavenge any leftovers from the morning meal before finishing up double checking the most recent test scores. * * * Nick nodded in Aurelian 's direction as Ilyrana eagerly thrust her hand in the air, her face begging for the teacher to pick her. Without waiting for more than the teacher's glance, the elven girl spoke. "Wizards," Ilyrana began, ignoring Laya's raised eyebrows, "usually deal in lighter magic, and specialize in one or two subjects, while warlocks delve into the darker stuff, and usually deal in a wider range of areas. Though, they both usually need some kind of staff, wand, or other trinket to channel their magic, since they have to seek it out, instead of it seeking them out." * * * The halfling gave a frustrated sigh at Serapis' persistence. He was late. Of that he was sure. The sounds of other orphans had already faded into oblivion from more than just the distance he had placed between himself and the most-traveled areas. Before the dracon finished speaking, the gentle sound of feet padding against the floorboards drew his attention a short second before Serapis looked over at the woman approaching. His brows furrowed irritably when the woman, too, asked about "the problem" in the same kind tone she had used on those couple occasions Galatea had been his masseuse. "Or maybe he can't." The halfling's head dropped, his gaze turning to the floor and fists clenching at the dracon's words. Can't. How he hated that word. But, no matter how often he heard it--mocking or otherwise--he refused to correct it, to prove it wrong. No. He wouldn't break the promise he made himself after... He hung his head lower as Galatea answered the headmaster. Turning his attention instead on the hall, he focused on keeping his steps silent as he tried to steal away from the adults, hoping neither would notice until he had already safely slipped into the back of his classroom.</s> <|message|>Serapis Serapis noticed the halfling boy heading towards class. Not wanting to disturb the student, he let the boy go. "Well, please keep an eye on him and let me know if there are any developments, alright?" Galatea nodded. "Yes, headmaster. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare some of the tables for later today." She shuffled off in near-silence, moving with surprising grace. ----------------- The teacher thought about it for a moment. While it was not correct, she didn't want to frame it in that way. "That's not an entirely accurate answer, but you do get some of the generalizations correct. Yes, it is true that many wizards specialize in one or two areas, and warlocks are prone to dark magics. Only thing is, that's not the fundamental difference. Wizards can use dark magics while there are benevolent warlocks out there. And magic staffs aren't related to the distinction between those kinds of mages. Can anyone else answer?" A few more unsuccessful answers followed, after which the teacher simply gave the answer herself. "A wizard is a mage who was not born with his magic. He has to study to gain any aptitude whatsoever with his magical spells. A warlock also has no magic at birth, but he gains it through a deal with a being who has magical powers to grant. More often than not, this is a demonic or other evil being, but it can be a neutral or even good creature." Aurelian raised his hands and spoke as soon as he was called on. "What about a sorcerer? Or a cleric?" "Good questions. Sorcerers are born with magical ability, while clerics don't have magic per se. They request spells from their deity, but do not actually cast them from any magic within themselves." ---------------- A bit later, Serapis met up with Thayva. "Oh. Hi there, love. Just finished making my rounds. Anything new today? Any big jobs for the students to do?" He moved behind her and gave his wife a little nuzzle, and moved to put his hands on her shoulders, awaiting her nod before he'd give her a little shoulder rub. He briefly looked outside, seeing the impending arrival of rain. Even after all these years, he still wasn't used to water falling from the sky. Given the extreme rarity of precipitation in the dracon realms, this was not hard to understand.</s> <|message|>My Orphans Gray light filtered through the glass of the solarium situated at the back of the house. Various plants sat in the corners of the room designed to hold heat better than the rest of the mansion. Thayva sat on one of the five cushions placed in a circle at the room's center. A stack of papers sat atop a large, round table in front of her. She held a featherless quill, which she dipped in a bottle of red ink every now and again as she marked a couple forgotten tests. Wind gently blew through the room from the couple glass panels Thayva had opened, flooding the usually warm space with the fresh scent of the impending storm. Thayva paused and inhaled the smell. Even after the few years she had spent outside the dracon realms, she still had yet to grow used to the pleasant scent of rain. She heard the inside door to the solarium open. With the familiar gait and way he shuffled forward, it could only be her beloved Serapis. "Good morning, my dear." She glanced up and returned his loving nuzzle before looking back to the papers. "Any big jobs for the students to do?" Thayva gave him the nod she knew he awaited. "Well," Thayva reached into a small pocket hidden in her skirts, pulled out the prank note, and placed it beside her pile of papers, "I'd say eliminating a fire-breathing duck would count. Don't suppose you've heard anything about it, have you?" A smile pulled at her maul. "Other than that, the blacksmith's apprentice has fallen ill, so he needs an extra pair of hands this weekend, the butcher's looking for an extra hunter, and the potter has offered her knowledge to teach any who may want to learn the art of pottery." Thayva glanced out at the yard, then to the sky, trying to gague the time. "It looks nearly eleven. Lunch should be served soon. Would you care to join me?" * * * When the teachers released the orphans for their last class of the day and sent them on their way to lunch, Kia and Laya stopped and waited outside one of the classrooms for Nick and Ilyrana. At last, the door all but burst open, and people flooded out. The two girls stood to the side so the others could exit. As soon as the other two elves joined them--Nick and Aurelian having separated during their last class--the four headed to the lunch room. "Remember, don't sit together," Kia whispered just loud enough for her friends to hear. "And try to make our separation look unintentional. We don't want to arouse suspicion." The others nodded. The four separated, losing one another in the crowd of students flooding the halls as they headed to the dining hall.</s>

<|message|>Serapis "It looks nearly eleven. Lunch should be served soon. Would you care to join me?" "That would be wonderful, my love. As for those jobs, I'm sure some of the humans or dracons can take them. Although come to think of it, any of them should be able to help with that duck. It isn't particularly dangerous, I trust. Wouldn't want to put them in unneeded danger." When he saw her nod, he began to gently rub her shoulders, not that he'd keep it up for very long. They'd be eating soon, and more involved intimacy was something for a private space and a private time. "How's that, dear? Feel better?" He sniffed the air, unsure of what to make of the scent. It was a bit like the smell of a shower after it was used, but far cooler and more diffuse. Like water hanging in the air. Only after another minute did it hit the dracon that rain was on the way. He finished the rub with a little pat on the back of her neck. Serapis then took a glance at the tests, and, satisfied that they were well-marked, set them down without needing to say another word about them. -------------------- "Remember, don't sit together," Kia whispered just loud enough for her friends to hear. "And try to make our separation look unintentional. We don't want to arouse suspicion." Aurelian nodded, slowly walking off towards a table which was predominantly attended by other humans. Sitting cross-legged, he waited until whatever was going to happen, happened. As he knew what was about to go down, he didn't get any food just yet. For her part, Laura got some food, being quite hungry. Jorn just sat down at a table next to a lizardfolk and another halfling, only wanting to enjoy a quiet lunch.</s>

<|description|>Nadezhda Moskvin Age: 25 Nationality: Russian Biography: Born in Russia Nadezhda cannot recall the motherland. Her mother emigrating to Australia when she was still just a baby. Growing up in loving family with both her parents. Nadezhda cam to idolise her father forms a young again. Her father maimed former Russian soldier who badly injured in the line of duty. Nadezhda growing up on cleaned up stories of her father exploits. Always lacking the most bloody details until she old enough to handle it. Eventually wanting to emulate her father Nadezhda ended up enlisting in the Australian army at 18. Sending the first couple years as a basic solider and seeing her first tour of duty in the middle east. Upon her return, Nadezhda felt like a change while wanting to stay in the army she looked into crouse and training and ended up taking training to be a combat engineer. Having small interest in several parts that were involved in the position. The training turning those interests into things she loved and Nadezhda passed her course top of her class. Nadezhda finding what she was being taught came somewhat naturally to her. From there she simply continued to merely go where she was deployed earning several distinctions forms her commanding officers. The alien threat became real shock for Nadezhda when she on shore leave in Berlin when the Aliens attacked. Although she was able to be evacuated she was trapped in the city for part of the attack before rescue. Letting her see first and just what aliens were capable of. After the attack, she was called back to duty and soon after that X-COM recruited her. The events of Berlin leaving a their mark on Nadezhda not that she'll speak about it to anyone Base of Operations: Australia. Squad: (Will be assigned) Class: Engineer Rank: Squaddie Personality: Nadezhda's personality depends whether she is or is not on the field. While not on the field Nadezhda is fairly happy laid back person. Quite content to go about her duties or business on her own. At times try to mingle with squadmates as she feels like it and won't pass up the chance to interact with them should the approach her. Unless she really hates them. Then they'll get told to sod off. On the field Nadezhda will try to act like good soldier and follow orders although she may question them if she thinks they are really stupid and thinks she had a better idea. She'll always do her best to work with her squad even if it has someone she doesn't get along within it. Other: Nadezhda tends to keep a tally of her kills by marking her armour. Provided she knows it was her who got the kill. Although Nadezhda speaks English she has a partial Russian accent form her parents and tends to swear in Russian, she also can speak Russain. She also tends to mutter to herself when thinking. Strengths: Team Player: Out in the field Nadezhda will follow her orders do her best to work with her squad. Even if she dislikes or distrust a squad member and will go out of her way to support them as needed. Even if it means taking a plasma round for them. Hoping by doing this they'll do the same for her. She will, however, draw the line and giving her life for her squadmates. Quick Witted: Nadezhda is very good at thinking on her feet and can quickly come up with idea's and apply them effectively. Weaknesses: Fear of Psionics: Being in Berlin when aliens attacked Nadezhda as developed fear of Psionics and tends to panic when the aliens use them on her even if she manages to resist. She tends target aliens she knows have Psionic powers even if they're better targets or more important targets. If the squad is flanked or ambushed by Psionic aliens, she may also panic It also makes her distrustful allies with Psionics. Although she'll still work with them to the best of her ability, she'll try to keep her distance Psionic-Potential: No Mech Soldier Candidate Yes</s> <|message|>Nian Zhen Nian Zhen, Medic of the Red Dragons Nian Zhen solemnly listened to Lt. Kyo Jin-Hwan, still standing at attention. "Sir, no questions here, sir!" She said, her chipper, slightly accented, but overflowing with earnest voice called out once again. Once he finished, she relaxed only slightly, glancing around the barracks and spotting her bed. She nodded to herself, satisfied. With no further questions, she turned to examine her bed, poking it, making sure the sheets were nice a folded, fluffing out the pillow. Reyes appeared, slightly startling her. "So you're our medic then?" He pointed to the red cross clearly visible on her uniform. His voice, she inferred, could be very intimidating if he wanted too- it kinda was even if he wasn't trying to be. "Yes, I am!" She affirmed him proudly, nodding rapidly and smiling. The insignia of the red plus sewn into her uniform above her left breast was an honor, the fact that next to it was the motto and XCOM coat of arms was a source of immense pride for the young soldier. "I got to say it is a relief knowing there will be someone down there to patch us up," Reyes continued, smiling. "Though no offense, I hope we don't need it." Nian Zhen was once again solemn, ignoring his chuckle and nodding seriously, her face straightening out. "Yes, Reyes, I hope you don't need it either." She said, her eyes somewhat glazing over as she remembered previous experience as a combat medic. She blinked and looked at him in the eyes and her expression grew lighter again. "But, if you do get hurt, you should not worry. I think I am very good, " She continued. "What do you do, Reyes? You look big and strong- heavy weapons, maybe?" Her small, bright eyes scanned his chest and shoulders for an insignia or mention of rank.</s> <|message|>Hiroya 'Black Lightning' Mochizuki (望月広也「黒い稲妻」) --- XCOM HQ 2020 --- Just as sharp as any Inagawa Group meeting, Mochizuki Hiroya panned around the room, analyzing each one of his supposed comrades. They seemed as hardened and determined, yet light-hearted, as he would have expected from any elite soldier fighting an alien force. For just a moment, Hiroya took a gander at their motives; although it was all too obvious, he thought of the why. Did Zhu Yun, Ratana Chao, Omar Mahanti, Ichihara Maiya (finally, a compatriot, albeit with a slight Kansai accent), Esmaeel Sayyad, have someone special? A Kuroda Miy- No. That would have to stay locked in the back of his mind, forever. Not since.. Hiroya took note of their names in his head, hoping he would never have to curse them. Finally, it was his turn. Giving a nod of acknowledgement, he took a blunt approach: Mochizuki Hiroya, at your service. With a customary bow of the head, he motioned back, ending the formalities. Now it was time to check out the really important stuff- his role, and his gun.</s> <|message|>Kira Lawson It had been a long flight to Tokyo, but after flying through pitch darkness for the past several hours, the plane that Kira Lawson had boarded finally landed on solid ground. As she disembarked, she noted a couple of military aircraft out in the distance. The first one she caught sight of looked to be a jet fighter of sorts. There were a few alterations to its structure here and there compared to those that she'd worked with before, but it didn't exactly strike her as jaw-dropping. However, the larger of the two aircraft was what caught Kira's eye. Its windows were tinted black, and as she came around the back to get a proper look at it, she noticed that the door was wide open, with a mass of personnel already inside. A male soldier stood just outside the door was, as if he was expecting Kira to arrive this whole time. "We've been waiting for you, Miss Lawson," the man stated, "Please proceed onto the Skyranger with the others." "You mean this thing, sir?" Kira asked the man, before turning to look at the aircraft again, giving it one last size up and down, '"Skyranger", eh?' With that, she stepped inside and took one of the last two seats, strapping herself in the moment she parked her tush down. She'd only just finished ensuring she was actually secure and nothing was too tight on her when she overheard someone talking. "Well I sure as hell didn't join the military for the pay! I wanted to serve my country, and now I have the chance to serve all of humanity. I don't see a more important job than that." That was the same exact tone that Kira's fiance, Reece Baxter, always had to him. Sure, he was cocky as all hell, but he had a great aura of pride about him; and that was what Kira missed most about him. Her thoughts then drifted to her son, and then her three daughters. A single tear rolled down from Kira's right eye at a snail's pace, as she pulled out a cigarette box from one pocket and flipped it open. There were only a few cigarettes left, one of which protruded out from the corner of the box in a tempting manner. Kira's nicotine addiction was starting to torment her at this point, and knowing exactly where her lighter was with its ease of access wasn't helping. But, using her better judgment, she flipped the box back closed and pocketed it again as the Skyranger's engines roared to life. There was a time and a place to light up a cigarette, and she had a feeling this was far from that time or that place. "Tell me something, sir," Kira asked the first man, as the Skyranger was preparing to ascend, "How did your people come to know of me? And furthermore, what do you know of me?"</s> <|message|>Trevor Hickory Trevor Hickory walked briskly to his locker and opened it with a relieved sigh. He loved seeing nothing but the necessities for life. His locker had only the XCOM related equipment. He was a minimalist and had decided to start this journey with only the items XCOM found prudent to delegate. "If they don't think I'll need more," he thought, "I probably won't need more." The only thing he had of his own was a black leather strap around his wrist with his name engraved on it; the only possession he owned from Tania. He thumbed the band absentmindedly as he thought back to that day she was murdered. "You'll pay." he said under his breath. "You'll all pay." He was broken out of his reverie by the man Cyril. "You've never been in the military?" Cyril asked. Trevor looked at him as Cyril put something in his locker. Cyril. It was hard to read the man after just meeting him, but ultimately Trevor saw him as a good man. "This is a good start to my team." he thought as he shook his head in answer to Cyril's question. "What did you do to get XCOM's attention?" cyril asked. Trevor looked at his locker again before answering. "I have prior personal experience with the monsters." He answered. "And I have extensive stealth and tactical experience." He looked at Cyril again. "Apparently that experience was adequate enough to make me a Ranger now. What part do you play?"</s>

<|message|>Nadezhda Moskvin Hearing her squad leader say he was blessed with a great squad made Nadezhda grin quite pleased to her new squad leader was not an ass and thought she'd be able to get along well with the man. Which pleased her greatly nothing worse than dealing with a commanding officer who had was not pleasant to be around especially since there was no way to really get away from them. Being told to take the time to unpack Nadezhda nodded pleased she could set her bag down and unpack her things. Not that Nadezhda had a lot to unpack the woman preferring to travel light. Nadezhda going to her locker seeing it was next to the other Australian, making her feel a little happy. As the man spoke to her Nadezhda gave a little laugh. Looking over at man seeing the picture. "It is a little funny. I'll make build you some fun stuff to blow up. But it seems X-COM know quality work." she spoke opening her bag and slowly started to unpack its contents. "Soooo, whos the other guy?" she asked glancing over at Donovan. "He looks like a nice guy." she added pulling out a baseball cap with the Royal Australian Engineers logo on it Inside had the names of her old squad. Putting on she felt a little bit more content wearing the parting gift her old squad had given to her. So she'd remember them given they like a family to her. Nadezhda reminding herself to always take it off before deploying.</s>

<|description|>The Harpy A man of stature and authority, possessing an imposing presence that reflects his high status in society. His attire is likely to be opulent and symbolic of his rank, hinting at a refined taste for luxury. His eyes are shrewd and calculating, always assessing potential threats or opportunities around him. He carries himself with an air of confidence, masking any hint of vulnerability beneath his stern demeanor. Despite being driven by ambition and cunning, The Harpy exhibits a cold detachment towards others, showing no signs of empathy or remorse for his actions. His voice is deep and authoritative, reflecting the weight of his position in society.</s> <|description|>Daenerys A woman of remarkable beauty, her features striking and exotic. She possesses an aura of regality and grace that commands respect. Her eyes are bright and intelligent, full of determination and courage. Daenerys is strong-willed and decisive, showing no hesitation in leading her armies or making tough decisions for the sake of victory. Despite her formidable nature, she also shows a caring side towards her allies, often providing comfort or reassurance when needed. Her voice has a commanding tone that echoes across the battlefield, instilling confidence in her soldiers.</s> <|narrator|>In a scorching desert, Daenerys leads her army of Unsullied towards another enslaved city. Her three dragons fly above her, providing protection. She orders a scout to find weak points in the city's defenses. Meanwhile, the rulers of Meereen look out from their pyramid and worry about their impending doom. The Harpy, a secretive leader of the Sons of the Harpy, decides to infiltrate Daenerys' camp with his men. They successfully kill her guards and capture her and Missandei, binding them with ropes. The Harpy then mocks Daenerys and prepares to take her captive to Meereen. As they escape from the chaos caused by setting fire to her tent, they head back towards the city with their prizes.</s> <|message|>The Harpy It was scorching hot in the desert. The sun was up in the cloudless sky beaming down on Daenerys and her eight thousand strong army of Unsullied. The white horse which she was riding pressed its hooves into the sand below, creating an imprint before making another as it walked on and marched towards another enslaved city. The Mother of Dragons had already freed two cities, earning the name 'Breaker of Chains,' and intended on making a third victory for the freedom of people. Looking up in the sky, she held one hand above her forehead to keep the sun from getting in her eyes. Up above were her three dragons, wings spread wide and flying through the air. Giving a smirk to herself, she couldn't believe her luck, knowing that not so long ago she had nothing. Freeing slaves wasn't her goal though. Not in the long term anyway. Daenerys wanted what was hers by birthright, the Iron Throne. She had to wait though, bide her time and make no rash decisions. For now, she was determined to conquer the East and everything that came with it. As they marched onwards, they came to the edge of the cliff with the Kingdom below it. Its walls looked very high and its defenses very strong. Turning her head to a member of her army, Daenerys ordered the man to scout ahead, to see if there was any weak points which could fall under attack. For now though, they set up camp out of sight on top of the cliff, which helped most of the men get out of the boiling heat. Tents were set up and by nightfall, campfires were lit to help keep warm. The sudden change in temperature during the night was enough to make someone freeze to death if very weak and ill. It had been twelve hours so far, and the man Daenerys had sent to scout hadn't arrived back as of yet.</s> <|message|>Daenerys The news had traveled fast along the sunbleached shores of Essos. An army was on the march, set to end the reign of the slaver-masters that had dominated the Free Cities for centuries. Not just any army either - every last member of the fearsome Unsullied walked in the train. The force which had once protected the order in the land was now bent on destroying it. At its head rode one of the renowned Targaryens, and like her ancestral forebears she seemed to control three dragons. Their fearsome wrath had reduced the rulers of the Slaver's Bay to ash, and her crusade of liberation seemed as unstoppable and inescapable as their stone-melting breath. Already Yunkai and Astapor - once considered unbeatable and eternal - had fallen to her. Now the last and greatest city of the Bay, Meereen, had been besieged. From their vantage point upon the Great Pyramid, the rulers of Meereen - the Wise Masters - looked out at the countless campfire of Daenerys' army. Their multi-colored brick walls seemed to provide little protection when faced with a foe like this. What good were their crumbling and dated defenses against dragonfire? Defeat stared them coldly in the face, and the sensation was wholly new and unpleasant to the city's arrogant lords. There was one among them, however, who did not resource to panic or confusion. He was known only as the Harpy, his real identity kept a close secret. However, it was known that he descended from one of the city's most ancient families, which could trace its bloodline right back to the Ghiscari. The idea of a foreigner harming his home was bad enough, but that fact it came in the form of a foreign woman was beyond insulting. He called upon his hidden army, the Sons of the Harpy, to undo her attack before it has even begun. A covert group of them intended to infiltrate the camp to either kill or capture Daenerys. Without her, he speculated, the army would evaporate. Taking five of his most elite, the Harpy and his men cloaked themselves in their dark-green robes and slunk like shadows into the besieger's camp.</s> <|message|>The Harpy The cliffside was kept alight by the orange glows of fire scattered around the plains. There were so many Unsullied that the harsh yellow sand below wasn't visible, instead hidden under flesh and armor of every man. It wasn't hard to situate where Daenerys was; a large white structure, almost like a tent, was set in the middle of the large group. Inside were only two people - the queen herself and her handmaiden Missandei. The blonde ruler looked at her aid while sitting down drinking some wine. "You can sit as well," she said. "It's been a long day. Please, make yourself comfortable." That was one thing Missandei liked about Daenerys; she was always caring and considerate, and only harsh when she needed to be. "What is wrong? You look worried?" Missandei then turned to her queen and spoke openly. "I don't like Meereen. It has a fierce reputation towards its slaves. It even has an arena for its slaves, and they make them do horrible things. Things like..." Missandei was interrupted by the scout who burst into the tent. "I'm sorry, your grace, for the intrusion, but I have found a way. The west side has a opening into the sewers." Daenerys stood up immediately and ordered troops ready to march towards it.</s> <|message|>Daenerys Nightbirds screeched in the velvet dark. The sun sank quickly as a heavy musk of leather and animal droppings hung heavy over the camp. There was an air of steady order as the business of the day began to draw to a close. Soldiers and servants bustled about with purpose, moving between the many multi-coloured tents that dotted the plain like exotic mushrooms. The Harpy and his men moved among them like ghosts, as unnoticed as the flickering shadows that ran along the canvas walls of the camp. As a boy, the Harpy had enjoyed hunting and killing snakes. He had learned very young that even the most deadliest creature was useless without a head. No matter what its cunning or bravery, it only took a single swift firm stroke to kill it. That same logic had occurred to him here. Without their revered Mother and Queen, this fearsome besieging army would curl up and die in the dust. While he assured himself - and his peers - that the safety of the city was his main motivator, the Harpy had his own darker and more carnal concerns. Defeating the 'Mother of Dragons' was not enough for him. He intended to have her enslaved and chained, a fitting and degrading punishment for one who had scorned the ancient customs of this land. Moreover, it would please him and the Masters immeasurably to have her used in a fashion that would appall the basest Braavosi whore. Her beauty would become his property and her body his plaything. This was what truly drove him on such a dangerous mission. There was no mistaking Daenerys' tent, standing out extravagantly in the center of the camp. To the Harpy's great surprise it was barely guarded, only a pair of Unsullied standing by their door. With their vision and hearing obscured by their clunky antique helmets, they never even sensed the men creeping up on them until they felt the knives open their throats. Quickly the bodies were dragged into the darkness as the Harpy and his men surrounded the capacious pavilion. With a pair of them at his back, he stalked swiftly into the tent with a determined stride, looking a lot more confident then he felt.</s> <|message|>The Harpy Each of the three dragons she loved were up in the sky flying off somewhere. Given their size and temperament, Daenerys couldn't keep them on a leash. The mother wasn't worried though; she knew they would come back, as they always had and always would. She thought. After learning about the entrance into Meereen, the Queen knew this would be easier than she first thought. Returning to her seat, she gazed at her handmaiden and gave a warm smile. "Well, Meereen won't exist anymore after tonight," she said with confidence. Nearly four thousand men moved through the sand outside, their armor clinking together and their spears banging against their shields, creating a noise just loud enough to help some intruders bypass the sleeping guards. It might have sounded hard, sneaking across another four thousand men, but the wind carried the light of the flames back towards them, creating an ever darker distance. Each guard standing in front of the tent was killed silently before Daenerys saw a man enter her tent. "Who are you?" she asked in a steady tone, trying to hide some of her fear. "You have some nerve."</s>

<|message|>Daenerys The flickering light in the tent blinded the Harpy for a few moments, but once his vision cleared the sight he saw was even more stunning. Stories of Daenerys' beauty were as widely spread as tales of her dragons, and they were clearly just as real. Certainly her nubile figure was readily apparent between her sheer cyan dress. She was much younger than he expected, pouting at him with a youthful petulance cloaked in royal arrogance. She was accompanied only by a maidservant - a comely one at that. It was certainly comforting to see her notorious dragons were absent, even as much as the Harpy was intrigued by them. Exhaling slowly, he allowed himself a wicked grin as introduced himself. "They call me the Harpy," he oozed. "I came here to find a queen, and instead I find a find a girl playing dress-up." He held up his scimitar, the white steel blade glinting in the dancing firelight, keeping the tip just beneath Missandrei's quivering chin. "Now if you make a single noise, I will gut your lovely little pet here." Keeping his cruel smile fixed on Daenerys, his two men swiftly moved behind both women, binding their slender wrists tight with coarse rope, then shoving them to their knees and tying their ankles. They worked with the skill of men long practiced in restraining and capturing people. With a mocking little laugh he sneered at Daenerys. "Shall we take a nice walk and savour the night air?" His guards roughly gagged both women forcefully, before sliding black sacks over their heads. "You shall get too see Meereen after all, my queen," -he dropped the last two words venomously- "although I think you shall not enjoy your stay, yes?" As his soldiers hefted both their captives over their shoulders like sacks, an urgent whisper came from outside. The army is moving, milord! We have to get going!" The Harpy kicked over one the candlestands, allowing the flame to catch on a silken curtain. The pavilion began to burn fast in a wall of green licking fire. He and his men then quickly but calmly moved off into the chaos of the milling camp, the burning tent serving as a distraction for their escape. No-one around them noticed the sinister figures or the loads they were bearing, being too distracted by the mounting confusion. The small group headed back towards the city, adrenalin pounding as they bore their prizes away.</s>

<|description|>Raymond Chase AKA: Ray, Cap, Atlas, The Marauder Age: 26 Race: Human Appearance: Faction: Marauder Role in Team?: Leader, a jack of all trades but is usually the plan maker Bio: Unlike a lot of humans out there now a days, I was born on Earth. A modest, humble place in the heart of the United States named Colorado. I never met my dad, but mom assured me and my sister that he was the greatest man she ever met. We came from the long line of explorers. Our family line went all the way back to Leif Erikson, and our great great great great great grandfather was on board the first space shuttle out of our solar system... But that was on my father's side, and he left a long time ago. My mom became broken. A drunk, a drug user... so it left me to take care of my mom and little sister... And then He showed up. My father's apparent best friend started to get friendlier and friendlier with my mom, and soon enough he became my stepdad. He was a disgrace of a man. He did nothing but smoke and yell at my mom, and when he wasn't doing that he was beating me for standing up for her. But my mother never left. Maybe if she knew the fate of my dad she would have done something... but her sadness weighed her down, left her the broken pieces of the woman she once was... I started to rebel against him. I would steal from his wallet, make my "attacks" on him look like accidents, I would often get in fights with people and give them my step dad's name as mine to see if they would come to our house and start beating the shit out of him. It never worked. One night I came home after school to find... m-my mother in a bloody mess on the ground, my sister crying with a bloody nose, and the stench of liquor filling my nose as I saw my step dad over them. I fought back. My mom said I was so much like my father. Strong, brave, willing to step up and do the right thing... But as I fought my step dad, I wondered how great my dad was if he left us alone with this guy in our lives. That was the start of my criminal record. After that my step father never pressed charges on me, my mom said it was all an accident, but he sent me to a military school... At the Galactic Committee. Turns out I come from a long line of important soldiers in the Chase family, so they were eager to take me in. I never considered myself a soldier, but the more I got compared to my father, the more I got angry with him. he sounded perfect, too good to be true, and yet my mother was a raging alcoholic, my sister was afraid to leave the house, and I was thousands of lightyears away to do anything to protect him. So to me, Todd Chase wasn't that special. I was one of the top in my class when I eventually graduated, and had my own squadron and ship. We were a peace keeping unit that dealt with new interactions with alien colonies, or any hate crime distributions. One of the Committee's enemies planned a terrorist attack on a new allied colony accepting to join the Committee. My whole squadron died, except me, but I didn't leave uninjured. My left hand had a horrible shake now, and I was put on medical leave, to go back home and see my mom and sister again. I came home to find out the worst news you could ever get. Jamie Chase, My mother, apparently "fell down the stairs" two years ago. One year later my step father wasted the family inheritance, and he was so unstable to protect my sister they took her away. She blamed me for not staying, and she refused to tell me where she was... My step father ruined my life. I wanted to fight him, to kill the man who murdered my mother and took away my baby sister... But I didn't. My left arm was too badly hurt, My heart felt hollow, and so I left without another word to the man... The next morning the Committee police were at my door, and I was charged the the murder of my step dad, and my next door neighbors. I was court marshaled, found guilty of my crimes, and sent to a maximum security prison known as The Rock. I was 22 at this time. I was broken myself. I hated my step father. I hated that I was in this prison for a crime that I didn't do but wish I did. I was mad at the Committee for finding the wrong guy, for throwing me here after my years of service to them... But most importantly, I was mad at my dad. Wherever he was, I hoped he was miserable with the fact that he left his perfect family behind, and I hoped he found out that his wife was dead, his daughter was traumatized, and his son was in jail. I hoped that crushed him more than it crushed me. Then the Committee came to my cell. They offered my another chance to make myself something other than a husk in a cell. They offered me a ship, a chance to lead. To be a Stellar Explorer. I knew it was a suicide mission, that I would most likely die within days by some terrorist party out there, or getting swallowed up in some giant plant on some planet... But a part of me held an idiotic concept (or so I thought). I had hope that I would be able to clear my name. Or to find my father. Or to see my sister again... I accepted, and I was the proud owner of my new Assault-Class Exploration ship, "The Monroe." I was assigned a team, my natural leadership skills and my time in the military made them trust me, but.. My time in the COMMITTEE military left me in some tension with some of the crew. That soon faded when he survived our first assignment... Fighting a fleet of invisible ant-men type aliens on a remote planet surrounded by quick sand. Our reputation grew mission after mission. Whether it be planet data collection, or recon strikes. We became the best exploration team in the galaxy, and got the title: The Marauders. It's not been an easy ride. I've made close friends, and I've lost many of them. There are some old seasoned veterans on the team, and new guys. I would do anything to keep them safe, and I continue my search for my father, and have been pestering the Committee to let me see my sister again... I've never told anyone about my past. All they know is that I was put away for killing my step dad and neighbors... And yet they trust me. I will protect my ship, and my crew with my life... But there are only a very select few that know about my past and my alternate goals, though. Maybe my past will come back to haunt me... But for now, I'll go along with this ride... I'm with great people, and although we are technically on a suicide mission, I've had some fun. What can I say? A group of crazies and criminals do know how to have a good time. Personality: Contrary to many criminal stereotypes, Ray is Noble, Brave, and headstrong. He can be a smartass, especially to the Committee. He hides his past with jokes and sarcasm, and he takes his role as the leader very seriously. Extremely loyal to all his crew mates, and has a very strong sense of protection and need to help when it comes to women-- especially children and mothers. Ever since he lost his squad when he served in the committee he feels like every casualty taken on his crew his solely his fault, and it wears him down no matter how well he hides it. Weapon(s) : An elemental revolver that has been in the Chase family for generations (even before space travel) that has been modified, and an electric whip that is activated within a glove, said to be used by my father. Family/Relationship?: Has a strong relationship with the Crew's Doctor, Luirae Driani, AKA Rae. She's the only one who knows about his past. His sister has refused to talk to him since he was arrested, and no one knows whether his real father is alive or dead. Other: Has a scar on his upper lip from his step father, and due to his military days whenever he stands still for too long his left hand starts to twitch</s> <|message|>Pip Bernadotte Pip was about to cut himself out.But before he could draw his blade he saw someone approach. This time it was a man. He looked a little stress Which Pip could imagine after such a fight like this. The man then looked at him silent as if he was hunting his prey. Pip did the same turning the whole thing into a staring contest. They just stood there kind of awkward just starring till the end of time. Until the man decided to break the ice. "Nice sword." He couldn't see it but Pip was smiling behind his mask. Amused by what the captain's first words where. He then continued speaking. "I've seen it cut through my ship like butter, and I appreciate that you haven't used it even more. Look, we've all had a very stressful few days, and I hope you understand that when people get launched out of enemy ships, we don't really greet them with open arms. How about we take this to the brig, we ask a few questions, and no one needs to get hurt." Pip nodded hoping the man would open the airlock. Which he did. Pip slowly stepped out. And walked up right to the captain. He then grabbed his two pistols by the holders and put them in the captain's hand." In case i get the strong urge to kill." He said laughing. He then grabbed his sword and lay it at the captain's feet. Then he stood up and said to everyone in the room." Well took you long enough to realize i wasn't gonna kill you. You must have been doing this for a long time i'm impressed you even let me in. Because you know with me cutting a hole into your ship. Although you also kind of owe me since i kinda started the small civil war. But ill just be following you guys to the brige before my mouth gets me in even more trouble." He then looked at the captain and pointed at the sword." please be careful with that if you touch it the wrong way it could cut your hand of."</s> <|message|>Tahillie Junta (Pronunciation of Name TA-Hee-Lee JUNE-ta) Feeling a little more at ease, Tahillie stared at his station, which he noticed it was cluttered with wires and broken holograms; shaking his head a little. Looking around it, the Furtim leaned over to pick up his silver visor before he placed back on. It wasn't that he was afraid to show his eyes, it's just that he was used to the older model to hook him into Cyberspace. He glanced at the broken hologram that was basically broken to small bits and pieces, sighing hard as he pulled up a rather small chip that was embedded into his hand. "Better than nothing. At lease I still have the information on the firewall and the virus on this little fella." He said more to himself than to anyone. Inhaling deeply once more, he finally felt a little clearer than before as he noticed that he was alone in the ships cockpit. He shook his head once more before he started to stumble his way to the messy wired contraption that he called his room. However, there we're a few things that he needed to be checked, and that was the fourth hologram box that he broke in three days. He wasn't the greatest with putting things together, but he was rather great with taking things apart to take a further look at. He didn't know who to ask about this problem. "...eful with that if you touch it the wrong way it could cut your hand of." He heard someone say, though he never thought that an intruder would be on the ship. Just his luck, he needed the rest as his room was on the far side of the ship, closer to Reena's room. He stopped for a bit before turning around to back to the cockpit to get a few winks at his station, but also explore Canborus' cyberspace to see if there was a repair port or planet near by. Raymond would ask about that, probably after the interrogation with the new comer, and to his knowledge, they we're running low on fuel and resources.</s> <|message|>Luirae Driani She smiled softly at the thanks, not responding since she wasn't sure how close he was to arriving at the airlock and didn't want to distract him with her voice in his ear. She at least knew her words had gotten through on some level and hopefully all would go well since they didn't need anymore drama for a little while. Rae's attention turned to Tymea, thinking on what she suggested for a minute or two before shaking her head at the idea. "I could give him a shot of adrenaline but I would rather not put the strain on his hearts after they just slowed down so much. On the other hand, I do have some of his blood stored along with everyone else for emergency cases here in the infirmary but that would mean letting what ever amount of poison he has left in him to go through his body and hope that the extra blood would be able to cycle it out. I doubt it will work. We need to both settle down and fix this antidote. Every second we wish him to be awake is a second wasted...." she stated before turning around and looking back at the antidote, trying to think and wishing that the one other person with a different perspective hadn't left for what seemed like no apparent reason.</s>

<|message|>Raymond Chase Raymond didn't back away when the man approached him, but his heart rate was going crazy. Raymond's old revolver was strapped to his leg still, his whip glove was back in his room. He wouldn't be able to do much to the man who was fully clothed in armor and weapons. Luckily he had two people training their guns on him... But that clearly wasn't a problem when the man pulled out his pistols and actually handed them to Raymond. A bit shocked, the Captain took the weapons respectively, and watched him lay the sword down. The man made his speech, and Raymond listened, a bit of an accent in his voice. Raymond knelt down and picked up the sword after storing his pistols, and then examined it. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that this blade could cut easily through him, so he held it with care, and nodded at the man. "Thanks for the cooperation. We've been running from those bastards for a while now, so our nerves have been on edge." Raymond said walking for the door, indicating for the man to follow him. "So since we're being nice to each other, let's get this out of the way. Don't mistake any of this for a weakness, and in return, I won't mistake your respect for me and my crew a weakness either. Agreed?" The small group of them walked down the halls of the spacecraft, but going nowhere near the medical bay. He didn't need to show the man that they had a man down. "This is the Monroe, and we like to call ourselves the Marauders." Raymond also added, the doors sliding open to reveal the brig. The walls were a steel gray, with smaller aisles where the cells were. The cells had a red tinged energy walls surrounding them, inside were simple beds and bathrooms. The room was covered in surveillance equipment, and had armor and weapon lockers that could only be opened by crew members with ranked clearance (people like Raymond, Rae, or Addy for example), or Committee members that like to make surprise appearances. In the front of a room was a steel table, mostly used for guard duty or investigations "You got a name, Pal?" Raymond asked, pulling up a seat for the masked man, and then sitting in a chair of his own.</s>

<|description|>Elly Ludenza Sex: ♀ Age: 17 House: Neos House Appearance: Duel Disk: An incredibly frilly monstrosity that balances out its porcelain texture and the excessively long ribbons and cloth adorning it with little skulls sewn on and burn marks around the edges. It folds and unfolds around a visible metal joint, and every time it does, an ungodly creak sounds. Personality: Extremely harsh, foul-mouthed and quick-tempered. Has a silver tongue dipped in poison and a textbook superiority complex. It's hard to look past these staggering flaws, but if someone masochistic enough did so, they'd find that she usually doesn't mean most of the things she says. She's very insecure, with an ongoing self-inflicted stress problem that she worries about constantly. She desperately craves human interaction, but truth be told, she doesn't make a good friend, so she gets it through dueling people, and loves every moment of it. History: Only child of a rich and busy single father, spoiled rotten but never happy. More interesting, was her relationship with the first family maid/nanny. Every Saturday, she'd take young Elly with her to a local soup kitchen. Every Saturday, Elly would complain about being bought there. Every Saturday, Elly would sit on the side, playing a hand-held duel monsters simulator and give foul looks to everyone who came her way, only to be thanked by almost every single patron, every single Saturday, every time she came. This went on for years. One day, she learned the reason everyone thanked her. While, yes, her nanny did ask every single person to do so, it was because her father funded the Soup Kitchen, and was the only reason it managed to stay open. When she learned this, young Elly became outraged. Her father had money to spend on complete and total strangers, but didn't care enough to get the latest duel monster expansion for his only family member that doesn't have Alzheimers? She confronted her father immediately, and likewise, he was immediately outraged. Elly's nanny was fired that day, after her many consecutive years of employment. Mr. Ludenza didn't believe a Soup Kitchen was a safe place for his daughter to be while the nanny was busy working the counter. Elly was happy with the change at first, but eventually decided she liked her first nanny better and complained to her father. Her father who can't say no to her but didn't want to back down tried to appease her by giving her all manners of gifts rather than just ones she asked for. She hated them. These gifts came to be a symbol of the disconnect between her and her father, and as you might imagine, she didn't treat them well. Next came her middle-school goth phase. It's where she learned to sew. I'm going to skip that part. As she grew as a person, she started going back to the Soup Kitchen, ditching her current caretakers and finding her old nanny there. Every single time, she would greet Elly with a smile and say that it was good to see her. Likewise, Elly found some old acquaintances, and as it so happened, Those old acquaintances had picked up the game that she, as a lonely little girl, would play by herself in the corner every Saturday. This was the first time Elly got to play against someone that wasn't in some simulator online. Elly asked her father for a fancy duel disk (which she immediately modified heavily) and started coming back more and more until her father took notice. When he did however, what he saw was the successful young duelist his daughter was becoming. Truly, seeing Elly happy was a rare sight. Cussing out the impoverished in a soup kitchen however, was unacceptable. He suggested that she enroll in Saotome Duel Academy and become a professional. Elly denied him, saying that she wanted to be a surgeon. After a long, drawn-out talk with her father, he convinced her that she could always just take online courses later to become a surgeon, but becoming a pro duelist while she was still young was much more practical. Wish: Become perfect, such so that everyone will have to love her. Deck: Artemia the Doll Queen Rank 1 DARK Spellcaster Xyz Effect monster 1000 ATK / 300 DEF 2 level 1 Spellcaster-Type Monsters Once per turn, you can detach 1 Xyz material from this card; shuffle two "doll" monsters in your grave with 300 or less attack or defense into your deck, then draw a card. Then, if it was a "doll" card, you can reveal it to your opponent; special summon it. If you have a monster other than this card on your side of the field, this card cannot be destroyed. You take no battle damage while "Alice the Wandering Doll" is on the field. --- Michael the Doll King Level 5 DARK Spellcaster Fusion Effect monster 300 ATK / 1000 DEF 2 or more "Doll Part" monsters with different names Must first be special summoned (from your extra deck) by shuffling the above cards on your side of the field or graveyard into your deck. (You do not use "Polymerization".) When this card is summoned by its own effect, it gains effects based on the number of "Doll Part" cards with different names shuffled into your deck: 1 or more: Once per turn, target one "Alice the Wandering Doll" on your opponent's side of the field. Take control of it. 2 or more: All "doll" monsters you control with 300 or less original attack or defense gain 2000 attack and defense. 3 or more: If this card is targeted by a card effect or would be destroyed, you can destroy another "doll" monster on your side of the field instead; If this card was targeted by a card effect, negate the effect. 4 or more: Once per turn, during either players turn, you can destroy one "Alice the Wandering Doll" on either side of the field: Until your opponent's next end phase, Negate the effects of all monsters on your opponent's side of the field. Also, all spell cards, trap cards, and "doll" monsters you control cannot be destroyed, except by their own effects. --- Solar Legacy: Anabel the Doll Princess Level 5 DARK Spellcaster Fusion Effect monster 1300 ATK / 0 DEF 3 "doll" monsters with different names Must first be special summoned (from your extra deck) by shuffling the above cards in your hand or on your side of the field back into your deck. (You do not use "Polymerization".) When this card is special summoned: add 1 "doll" monster with 0 attack or defense from your deck to your hand, then destroy it. This card gains 300 attack and defense for each "doll" card in your graveyard. Once per turn, if this card is sent to the graveyard by a card effect, you can special summon it in face-up attack position. Once per turn, you can target this card and 1 monster your opponent controls; until the end phase, switch control of both cards, then add 1 "Doll Hammer" from your deck or grave to your hand. Monsters (20) Alice the Wandering Doll** x3 Box of Friends x2 Doll Chimera** x1 Doll Part Blue** x3 Doll Part Gold** x3 Doll Part Pink** x3 Doll Part Red** x3 Eshila the Lovely Bisque Doll** x2 Spells (8) Card Trader x1 Curse of the Dolls** x1 Curse Reflection Doll** x1 Cursed Dollhouse** x1 Dark Factory of Mass Production x1 Doll Hammer** x1 Door to Mirrorland** x1 Mind Control x1 Traps (12) Crush Card Virus x1 Curse Transfer** x1 Dark Horizon x1 Dark Renewal x1 Deck Devastation Virus x1 Full Force Virus x1 Human-Wave Tactics x2 Order to Smash x1 Released Curse** x2 Spirit Barrier x1 Extra (7) Anabel the Doll Princess* x1 Artemia the Doll Queen* x3 Michael the Doll King* x3</s> <|message|>Katsuragi Tekkan @Lord Szall @Blight Bug Tekkan stopped dead in his tracks as soon as the woman came from around the corner. Bringing his running feet to a screeching halt and stopping mere inches away from this supposed staff, he pointed towards Yuryuu, panting heavily. "The biker dude and I are both out of the tournament," the youth said in between heavy breathing. "But that other kid is still in. Only has 1200 Life Points, though." Maneuvering around the (admittedly attractive) lady, Tekkan went back to running around campus in search of people to convert. "I'll catch you later, Leader!" the white-haired youth called back to Fyodor. "Good luck on your side of the mission!"</s> <|message|>Hattori Minoru "Ooooh! I GET it now!" The girl pointed a triumphant finger at her opponent. "YOU'RE one of those pe~ople Partner talks about! What did he CALL them, ag~ain..?" The child pondered for a short while as Elly did her card voodoo, unwittingly giving her time to set up her combo. "Right, that was- oh, you're STILL going. Kinda rude, au~ntie. Hold on~" She stopped and tapped the duel disk a couple times before flinging her arm outwards in a kabuki-like pose. "I activate MACRO COSMOS in re~sponse to that summon! This card BANISHES a~ll your friends instead of sending them to the grave, o~kay?" And just like that, all cards destroyed as part of the combo were banished from their respective places. All that remained was that unusual new card, though it only had a downright pitiful 1600 attack now. "Right, ri~ght, NOW I remember! You're a person who 'thinks she's more clever than she really is', right? I'm gues~sing you thought you had already WON, right? Am I ri~ght? I'm RIGHT, aren't I?" She drew a card. "DON'T worry, though! I might NOT be as TOUGH as Partner, but that doesn't me~an I'm STILL not rea~lly strong~ and that goes double against someone who can't pay attention! Now I dun~no WHAT that weird pre~tend MONSTER you're using is, but I'm gon~na make it go a~way, OKAY? DARK HOLE!" The pit dimmed to deepest black, and when the light returned Anabel was simply... gone. As if it had never existed. The wind picked up shortly after, bringing with it the familiar dust storm. "Ka-POW! Lean a~nd CLEAN. For my next trick, I summon two brothers: Yosenju Tsujik and Yosenju Kama 1! Now, Kama 1 has a special power of his own, but I can't make use of it right now. Do~n't you worry, though; I'm sure I'll get the chance to do it soon!" When the dust cleared, there stood two weasels, wielding a sickle and a sword, respectively. "MORE im~por~tant~ly, though, it's time for ano~ther FULL FORCE attack! Go, Kama 1! Tsujik, raise YOUR attack and come from be~hind!" They appeared from either side in the blink of an eye, Kama 1 going for Elly's jugular with the sickle as Tsujik laid its blade bare against her lumbar region. "You should be more AWARE in a battle of speed, au~ntie! I've never even lost to PARTNER in a ra~ce, and you can be SURE I'm not about to lo~se to YOU!" Ending her turn, both Yosenju jumped back to the hand. * My character activated the trap card Macro Cosmos in response to Anabel's summon * As a result, both Doll Parts, Doll Chimera, and Alice The Wandering Doll were banished, leaving @Ryik's character with no cards in the hand, one set card in the spell and trap zone, and a sole Anabel the Doll Princess with 1600 attack on the field * Since Ryik's character ended the turn, my character began her turn * My character drew a card * My character played the magic card Dark Hole, which destroyed Anabel the Doll Princess * Due to the effect of Macro Cosmos, Anabel the Doll Princess was banished instead * My character Normal Summoned Yosenju Kama 1 and Yosenju Tsujik * My character used Yosenju Tsujik's ability to raise Yosenju Tsujik's attack to 2000 * My character attacked Ryik's character directly with Yosenju Kama 1 and Yosenju Tsujik, bringing Ryik's character to [5000-(2000+1600)]=1400 LP * My character ended the turn * Yosenju Kama 1 and Yosenju Tsujik returned to the hand * Spring of Rebirth's effect activated, raising my character's LP to [8500+1000]=9500 LP ELLY - 1400 LP - HAND 0 NONE - NONE - SET - NONE - NONE NONE - NONE - NONE - NONE - NONE NONE - Y. KAMA 1 - Y. TSUJIK (2000) - NONE - NONE M. COSMOS - NONE - S. OF REBIRTH - NONE - NONE ??? - 9500 LP - HAND 0(2)</s>

<|message|>Elly Ludenza Elly was diced by the Yosenju and she fell to the ground, getting dirt all over her clothing. Elly picked herself up and drew her last, only to turn silent from a dead draw. Amazing. She muttered profanities under her breath. Just her luck, facing the deck that counters hers perhaps more than any other in the world. Not even anti-meta decks are this bad. At least those do poor life-point damage. Even so, as much as she hated losing, Elly prided herself on never being a sore loser. Elly pressed the button on her duel disk to surrender and all at once the field dissolved. No, now it was time for proper revenge. Elly walked up to her opponent with a menacing gait. My god, did she hate them, and she was about to show her hatred the way she knew best. "Good game! Vanity's Cosmos aside, it was pretty fun! Not bad for an excruciatingly whiny abortion like yourself!" She would casually put a hand on their shoulder, leaning on them slightly. "I'd love to duel you again sometime, but I don't think we'll be able to. A promise is a promise my dear. I really don't take rudeness lightly." With a level of self-awareness that invokes Poe's law, she steps away with a cheeky smile and continues. "Now, as much as you might love resembling a pile of human garbage, I'd hate to have you in my presence any longer, so I suggest you lead the way out unless you want to further mar your reputation."</s>

<|description|>Jake Prescott Age: 24 Gender: Male Bio: Jake was a police officer before all of this. He was just an officer, but he was pretty good at his job. As the war came to the US, his unit was shut down after martial law was in effect. He then moved to Berkeley, California in an attempt to be safe. This would fail as the bombs fell. California was the second most guarded state beside New York. Washington D.C. was completely, if not already, isolated. The bombs took him by surprise. Jake was home when the bombs hit, and he rushed to the evacuation site. He was too late. The bomb hit in Los Angeles, the same area that the evacuation. Jake was only a few miles away, the shock wave of the blast reaching him. His car was tossed and he blacked out from the impact. Jake would wake up hours later to see everything destroyed. Jake now wanders around in search of survival and a new life in this barren and fallen world. Personality: Jake is vocal and will voice his opinion. He can collaborate with ease and can compromise if he sees an opinion worth listening too. When it comes to disagreements, he is rather polite. He makes sure everyone is heard and can get a bit irritated when someone cuts him off when he's talking. When it comes to serious situations, Jake is a fast thinker. He can improvise and devise plans almost instantly. He is able to work quickly and efficiently, never stopping when he knows he'll lose. Jake fights to the end no matter what and will never quit. Being a police officer, he has a protective side of him. If he feels someone is being mistreated, he will step in and deal with the conflict. He is unable to just let criminal acts go unnoticed. However, in this new society and way of life, he has no problem stealing to survive, although he does feel guilty if he thinks about it too much. Gear: What you travel with. I'd like it to be set up like this: -Weapon 1: Jake carries an M4A1 Carbine Rifle as his main weapon. He relies on this for quick kills. Being a police officer, his knowledge about this rifle is definitely a plus. -Weapon 2: Jake's secondary weapon is a baseball bat modified with industrial nails. This is used for messier, slower, but quieter kills as well as when he's put of ammo for his first weapon. -Clothing: Jake wears simple clothing, a blue dress shirt with black jeans. He wears black and white Converse brand shoes along with a black and white New York Yankees hat. -Items: * Police flashlight * 3 M4A1 5.56x45mm NATO round magazines * Water canteen * Gas mask * Hiking backpack * Flint and steel Role: Jake is a wasteland survivor. He travels around to collect food, supplies, and other essentials to stay alive. He does sometimes look for fellow survivors that don't try to kill him, but that's rare.</s> <|message|>Quinn Harris "If he isn't around that corner in ten minutes, we dodged a bullet," Quinn said bluntly. He'd learned the hard way not to go looking for a fight. Nothing good ever came from baiting anyone. Not when there was nothing left to stand between a man and murder. "Not about to get between Blood Army and a renegade. You seem decent enough. If he shows himself and tries anything, I'll back you up. But then I'm going on my way."</s> <|message|>Jake Prescott Jake nodded, agreeing with his statement. Jake wasn't one for violence, but with this new lifestyle he couldn't take any chances. He even wondered if Quinn was going to kill him or rob him. "Agreed." He said, relaxing a bit. He listened as the man spoke. "I see..." Jake said, realizing he'd be alone again. Jake peeked out, not seeing anybody else nearby. The area in front of the library faced the back of the building the two were just on. It had a ruined car in the street in front of it and a steel barrel with remnants of a fire inside. Jake walked outside the library, scouting the area of any potential threats. After a few minutes he returned inside. Cube</s> <|message|>Quinn Harris Quinn took the time to sit down and rest his tired feet for a little while. His boots were made to last, but they had been around a long time. They weren't holding up too well after all the time and walking they'd been through. He took off his makeshift eye cover to let the scarred flesh underneath breathe. He didn't like the patch getting too moist from sweat. Infection wasn't something most people survived these days, not with the scarcity of antibiotics. After a few minutes Jake returned. Quinn hastily reapplied his bandages, and looked at Jake. "No sign of our friend?" he asked, already knowing the answer. That wasn't necessarily the best sign. If he was part of the Blood Army, he could be going back to let them know he'd seen people. They generally weren't the type to let that slide. People could be holding onto something valuable. As for Quinn, the tools he carried with him were relatively free of rust. If he ever decided to pawn them, he'd find himself in a bit of money. Not that he ever would, mind. "Perhaps we should go on our separate ways. Harder to track then."</s> <|message|>Jake Prescott Jake nodded. "He's gone." He said. Jake saw a table and walked to it, sitting his backpack on it before looking around the library. He looked at the shelves, finding some books that were still intact. He had no interest in them, but it would help pass time. Or perhaps he could use them for fuel and burn them in a fire. Jake smirked at the thought of having to burn books. Jake turned to Quinn, listening to his suggestion. Although he agreed, he didn't want to. He would be a loner again. But it would be fore his own good. "Yeah...that'd be smart." He said, closing his backpack after putting a couple read worthy books in it. Jake looked around more, trying to find any salvageable items as he waited for Quinn's next move. He stayed alert in case Quinn tried to attack him. He didn't know him that well. Cube</s> <|message|>Charlotte Green The view was actually quite spectacular, what was once a packed metropolis now nothing more than a jungle of dilapidated buildings and the ghosts of the past. Numerous buildings towered high, exposed metal glimmering in the evening sun and the evidence of the bombs that killed everyone still quite clear. Perched atop what had once been the headquarters of some newspaper company the slim figure of a woman was hardly noticeable, her feet dangling off the edge as she sat scraping the last morsels from a tin of tuna, pausing occasionally to survey her surroundings as she considered the eerie beauty of the landscape before her. She casually tossed the empty tin over the edge of the building, watching it plummet to the ground before she pulled a chipped canteen from her bag and took several deep swigs of water. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and she sat for a moment before pulling down her hood to reveal shoulder length dirty blonde hair that was slightly tangled. Her features were small and petite, though her deep emerald eyes had what could be called a feral glint in them as they darted around her surroundings. Her skin was marred with smears of dirt and it was clear that she had been through much. Her current expression was somewhat blank, her mind running with countless thoughts of what she should do next, where she should go. After several minutes the relative silence of the evening was suddenly shattered, the unmistakable sounds of distant gunfire reaching her ears as several flocks of birds shot into the air startled by the noise. In a split second she had stood and once more her hair was hidden behind her hood and she was moving back towards the doorway that lead down into the building she had spent the last few hours searching - somewhat fruitlessly. Her mind now fixated on moving and finding somewhere less exposed, somewhere safe, somewhere she could sleep without fear of being discovered. She had a few little 'dens' littered around the city, but none were particularly close and her feet and legs already ached from all the walking she had done. Charlotte moved through the building silently and made her way to the street, pausing and listening every few minutes as she headed in the opposite direction to the gunshots she had heard. Her heart was pounding slightly and she moved quicker than she normally would have, she had an uneasy feeling and couldn't quite place why. Every now and then she broke into a little run and she dodged around the wreckage of what had been a fire truck, now a mangled gray skeleton laying somewhat across what had once been a huge large four lane road. Soon her panic subsided and she walked on for what must have been about half an hour before her ears prickled and a rather unfamiliar sound reached her ears. She paused and stood listening as intently as she could as she tried to place what she was hearing, the sound very slowly growing louder in the far distance. Suddenly it dawned on her, it was the deep rumbling sound of an engine, the sound of someone driving something that was getting steadily closer and closer. Breaking into a run Charlotte realised that she was walking along what had been the main interstate into the centre of the city, and that meant that it was quite likely that whoever it was would be coming this very way. Unfortunately there was no easy way to get off the road, not unless she wanted to drop several stories down onto the road below her and break both of her legs. As she ran her mind raced, frantically she tried to reach the exit road that would slope down into whatever neighbourhood she was over, she could just about see it from where she was and it was getting nearer and nearer. As she got closer so did the approaching sound of a vehicle and she pushed herself to go faster and faster, her heart pounding as she panted in gulping deep breaths of air. Just as she reached the side road she swore as the unmistakable sight of headlights speeding towards her. Turning she sprinted down the exit road as fast as she could, though now thoroughly winded adrenaline surged through her as she pushed on. Halting for a brief moment she spared a glance behind her and her heart skipped a beat as she saw a truck swerving and heading directly towards her, the sound of loud music now mingled with the revving engine as she again ran as fast as she possibly could. Even though only a handful of seconds passed it felt like hours as she kept running and pushing herself, mingled shouts now reaching her ears as she glanced behind her again. The vehicle was definitely coming for her and she briefly saw that the hood had been spray painted with a large 'BA' and skull, a pickup truck that had several occupants, each of them eagerly jeering and pointing at her as one of the men in the rear aimed a rifle towards her and squeezed off a few shots. She kept running as the gunfire narrowly missed her, flecks of debris shooting into the air as she leapt over a discarded pile of trash that several moments later the truck smashed through as it raced after her. She scrambled up the edged of an overturned bus and ran along its length as yet more bullets ricocheted past her. She got the distinct feeling that the man shooting at her was choosing not to hit her rather than simply missing and she tried to move even faster as she leapt from the end of the bus thudding into the road a little harder than she had planned and stumbling into the jagged edge of a rusted taxi as she did. She swore loudly as the metal cut into her thigh and pain shot through her leg, she swore again and pushed herself on, the truck briefly obscured from view as it swerved around the wreckage of the bus to reach her. She tried to keep sprinting, though couldn't suppress a cry as agony blossomed as she put her weight on her leg, she also felt thick warm blood seeping down pushing on regardless, her only thoughts being to somehow escape or hide. Her eyes shot around and fell upon the only piece of cover that was anywhere near her, what had once been a burger grill trailer sprawled in front of a large library. Not wasting anytime she hurled herself into the trailer and scrambled along the floor as she grabbed at her leg with one hand and pulled out her hunting knife with the other. The sound of screeching tires reached her ears as the truck with Blood Army thugs had evidently stopped now that she had suddenly vanished from sight, a few moments later the sound of voices and footsteps drifting over to her as she tried to suppress her heavy breathing and stay as silent as possible. Her mind raced as she tried to think about what she could do, it was only a matter of moments before they would surely find her. The only thing she knew is that she wouldn't be taken by them and she gripped tightly at the knife as she listened intently, preparing herself to strike the moment one of them would appear in the doorway. Each second felt like an eternity as she held her breath.</s> <|message|>Quinn Harris Quinn was about to make the suggestion to Jake that they meet up at the next settlement, but was hastily cut off by the sounds of gunfire. He peered out the entrance to the library. He could see a woman, crouched behind a trailer in front of the building. She was bleeding, and badly. "Not going to be so easy," Quinn sighed. He moved quickly, coming out as three Blood Army men approached. He could see that familiar old gleam in their eyes. Thirst for blood, they wanted to devour the misery of ordinary folk. Sadist fucks had to be put down. Quinn was a blur of deadly motion. He drew his revolver and with two well placed shots blew the brains out of two of the soldiers. As the third fumbled for his gun (his mind having been on his other gun), Quinn closed the distance between them and with a practiced motion, drew his machete and slit the soldier's throat. He didn't revel in his victory for long, because he knew the other group would be drawn by the sound. "Jake...the car," he said mechanically, as if he had just become someone else, almost the man he had been when he had followed the Blood Army, "Take whatever these bastards have and throw it in the back." Quinn came around to where the woman had taken cover and held out a hand to her. He was aware of how he must look, scarred and unshaven. His calloused hand beckoned for hers as he said to her, "It's not safe here. Another group not far down the road. They'll come looking for us."</s>

<|message|>Jake Prescott Jake heard the gunshots, going on immediate alert. He grabbed his gun and threw his backpack on. He looked to the the woman. He quickly realized the Blood Army members. He didn't know if he should take them out or tend to the woman. As he went to try and shoot at the Blood Army members, he saw Quinn take off of them. He watched as he quickly executed them. Without hesitation either. He then went to the lady, trying to calm her down and see where she was hit. Jake looked at Quinn, nodding at the order to loot these guys. Jake was both impressed and a bit nervous. If Quinn could do this to three members with ease, he could do it to him. He looked at the corpses and rummaged through them, finding mostly bullets and a bit of money. He found a note, the letters messy and the paper stained with blood. "Hey, Quinn!" He called, trying to get his attention. "Got something you should see!" He added, turning towards him holding the note up. Cube</s>

<|description|>The Council of Aurae Flag: Type of Government(So the Empire knows what they are dealing with): Subconscious Democratic Technocracy Description of Government: Each citizen is implanted with a chip, one that provides a wealth of knowledge on the information they are voting on. This also allows them to subconsciously render their votes in referendums. These replace traditional republics and democracies. However, the human hosts of the technocracy have refused to be chipped, and instead cast their votes independently. These human votes are set up in a way so that one human vote is worth dozens of Aure votes, meaning that the Aure are effectively forced out of the equation when it comes to voting. Otherwise, there is a council of scientists that introduce the laws to be voted on. This council is entirely dominated by humans, due to the election system. Main race(Your own species, unless you want to play as humans): Aure, a race of batlike peoples. They are generally weak-boned and lacking in strength, but on their low-gravity homeworld they are capable of flight. They are also capable of echolocation. Their hands are simply phalanges attached to a large joint. Minority races(humans and what other. Needs to be at least 50% humans if you majority is them): Humans Demography(Min 20% humans): 25% Human, 75% Aure Religion(Optional but appreciated): The Aure have no religion, they are innately capable of technical processes and skills and they largely see religions as superstition. Culture(A paragraph or two): The Aure are natural tinkerers, great inventors, and amazing scientists. They aren't great at art or war, however. They've been, for a large portion of their history, fairly communal and peaceful. Their culture emphasizes community and sharing discoveries. They're generally nonviolent, and prefer to avoid it where possible. They hate the Empire, for subjugating them and hampering their progress. History(what you did under the rule of the empire fo roughly 300 years): The Council was an easy conquest, not having the military tradition or hardware to repel the humans. Within a year, the entire planet had been conquered, with very little casualties. However, the Aure suffered grievous casualties, mainly massacres and genocides. Afterward, they remained in fear and stayed quiet as their rights were stripped. Eventually, they became trusted enough due to their quiet obedience that they became a large part of the Empire's infosec and IT support infrastructure. Their natural affinity for technology made this transition much easier. Important characters(very important, your leaders, your strategist, your spy master and any other important character IN DETAIL): Description of Military(ships and ground troops): N/A. The council has no military. Technology(note that there are no energy shields, and that doomsday weapons are not a thing.): The Aure's technological advancement was forcibly stopped after their conquest, meaning they rely heavily on the human's empire to keep them from reverting to the stone age. They mainly use Empire technology. Additional(whatever you feel like you want to add):</s> <|message|>The Xythae Empire The Empire believed the Daenizens were made docile after they established a puppet Emperor under their control. If one knew little of the Daenizen culture, it would be unfair to judge them for thinking so due to the hierarchical nature of their society. But there was a reason an Emperor hadn't been chosen in 500 years. Daenizens are a race of honour, with their society being based around Glory rather than capital or breeding. And as the centuries went on, the Empire backed Ohmni family began to slowly lose control, as they preferred to indulge themselves rather than prove their worth. Roughly fifty years after Empire dominance, a movement had started among the dissatisfied Daenizens. Known as the Children of Xythae, they predicted the return of Xythaen, who would free them from the chains of the Empire and the traitors. At first it didn't seem like much, a few groups of peasants revolting here, shipments disappearing there, but these were just distractions. The real battle lay in the political realm, where power was slowly being stolen from the pro-Empire faction. As the third century of Empire Rule came to a close, the Daenizens were all but ready to make a move. All they required was for the second coming of their God Emperor. When a guard capitan by the name of Zane Alkeim led a rebellion against one of the last Pro-Empire Kings, it was the true start of the rebellion. Called the second coming of Xythaen, his charisma and battle prowess led the rebels to take over Embla. On the steps of the Grand Palace, he gave his first speech. "My fellow Daenizens, I will be brief. We have ousted the traitors from our midst, but this is only the start of our battles. Though the Empire has been blinded to our actions, the results of our war will soon reach them. But what strangers are we, the Daenizens, to war? And Draconi, are you cowards who shirk from a fight? No! We are the Xythae Empire! We have lost much, but that just means we have to take it back with interest!!!" A resounding roar echoed across the plaza, as the sleeping dragon of the Xythae awoke once more to bare it's viscous fangs.</s> <|message|>The Ashtar Mishri Uthuun The Basilica Llyena awoke. Her eyes snapped open, she flung her arms up and grabbed the edge of the vat, hauling herself out of the biogel. She crawled onto the floor and coughed out the breathing tube, then retched out biogel that had filled her lungs. It was not a pretty sight. She looked around. There was no attendant in sight, but there was a pile of warm, soft towels nearby. She grabbed a few and sat down up against the wall. An attendant finally arrived and began to sputter an apology, but Llyena sent him off with a reassuring thought. She was honestly surprised to see an attendant in the cloning bay at all. It wasn't exactly an essential position; even if rebirth could be traumatic, most Ashtar were so used to it by now they scarcely needed someone to hold their hand after awakening. The man would be of more use in the factories. A thought drifted out of the Union in response to her line of introspection. One more in the factories would hardly make a difference, but one greeting the re-awakened can be all the difference in the world. She considered arguing with the person or people behind that thought, but she was too tired to be bothered. What had killed her again? Ah yes, an exploding power conduit aboard In the Deepest Chaos of the Universe We Experience Only Prevailing Tranquility. She'd considered not returning this time. She'd seriously thought about letting her mind drift away into the depths of the Union, towards eventual oblivion. Not that her mind would truly ever die, but it could fade into something vague and ephemeral, unrecognizable as herself and unable to return to a body. It was tempting. Perhaps then she would stop feeling tired. But she was needed. Her people, her god, the awareness of the universe itself needed her. She sighed out loud, and began to get up when a mind touched her own. Lexus. "We want to speak to you," his voice sounded in her mind. "As always," she replied, with a bite of sarcasm. Lexus ignored the quip. In a moment, she felt other minds reach towards her; she in turn reached towards them, and suddenly she was elsewhere. The Pinnacle of the Basilica. Not as it was now, with the shattered windows and holes in the walls, overlooking grim factories, but as it had been on lost Ayrie. Llyena was at the center of the chamber, bathed in blue sunlight. Outside, the towering spires of the planet-wide city gleamed. It was all an illusion of course, she was still in the cloning bay. But it was a comforting illusion. The five Hierarchs occupied their thronelike chairs, looking down on her. She smirked. "My, how formal we are today." "My, how snide we are today," Ichael replied, returning her quip with one of his own.That was a good sign; it meant he was probably in one of his good moods. "May we maintain some bare semblance of decorum?" Lexus said testily. "Thank you. Llyena, you are summoned before the Hierarchs on this day to receive direction. The time of the Choice draws near, and one of the Guests has not yet arrived. This can not be." It seemed they were going to go over the whole thing again if Lexus had his way. Llyena hoped one of the other Hierarchs would intercede and get to the point, but it seemed she was out of luck. She suppressed a sigh and adopted an appropriately attentive expression. "The final Guest, the Fifth Incarnation of Humanity, the Emporium of Man, has been waylaid. We suspect the forces of Harbringer are at work," Nezia continued from where Lexus had left off. "The Emperor. He has taken humanity from its birthplace, and set it on a course towards destruction. The races of the Triangulum will eventually turn on their masters and cast them down." Arctus's turn evidently. "Humanity can not ascend while the Emperor lives. If our Task is to be completed, he must die." Ichael intoned his usual part of the narration with a slight smile, aware of how repetitive it was. Llyena looked to Cyris expectantly. "The Emperor must be destroyed, but Humanity must be saved," Cyris wrapped up the prelude to the actual conversation. "Production continues on the Sacred Armadas. We are seeing an increase in construction rates on our cruisers, but we are no closer to building new capital ships. I estimate another two hundred years before we can match the Emporium's fleets." Llyena delivered the update as she had a hundred times before. But something was different this time. The Hierarch's expressions grew troubled. Cyris broke the silence. "We can not wait that long. The strands of the the future begin to coalesce. I believe the Choice will be upon us within the century." Llyena's jaw dropped. After all these countless thousands of years, the Choice was to happen in less than a hundred? They weren't ready! They couldn't possibly be ready! They couldn't hope to overthrow the Emperor that quickly, much less guide humanity to ascension. "We may have to be more...direct...in assisting humanity to ascension," Nezia said, sensing her thoughts. Lexus nodded. "As for the Emperor, we are forced to concede that you have been right all along. We cannot do this alone. We will need allies." Llyena tried to suppress a sense of triumph. She'd been telling the Hierarchs for years that they needed to reach out to the other inhabitants of Triangulum. Now they were finally ready to listen. "I will begin the search immediately, noble Hierarchs. We may no longer have PsiNET, but trade ships from the compound worlds will act as scouts. We will seek out resentment, rebellion and dissent, and we will forge it into a sword to strike down the emperor. There are allies to be found, I know it." The five Hierarchs considered her for a moment, but were evidently satisfied. The room abruptly dissolved, the psionic contact disengaged, and Llyena found herself back in the cloning bay. She smiled to herself. There was work to be done.</s>

<|message|>The Council of Aurae Deep in the urban jungle of Amdam, the capital city of the planet, three Aure sat at a row of ancient equipment. It all looked particularly scavenged, each part mismatching and put together with hopes and dreams. This was the best equipment they could get their hands on, the trash of the humans. They had spent years gathering the right resources and materials, putting together bits and pieces from dumpsters and loaner pools. They couldn't order any new equipment, no matter their positions in the city's tech departments. Doing so would be suspicious and undoubtedly cause an audit. So instead they focused on getting what wouldn't be missed. And now, after all those years of collecting, now was the day. Another Aure further up along the Emporium's structure had secured them a set of proxy servers, allowing their transmission point to be vastly different from their origin point. They hooked the proxy connections into their digitized radio network, and set the transmission point to a deep space satellite. It would be near impossible to track them down by their signal, and this was by all means intentional. For they were creating a pirate radio station. They would be breaking all kinds of federal communication laws in doing so. If they could be tracked, they could be caught and charged. This was unacceptable. A countless number of Aure had assisted in the info security section of this project, securing every last bit that came in and out of the station. The Emporium's training had paid off for them. That, and the humans looking down on their jobs as vermin. Very little attention was paid to them as long as none of their encryptions were cracked. Now was the moment of truth, to see if their little plan worked. They first loaded up a song, to announce their arrival to the frequency. It loaded fine, and their test radio in the other room picked up the signal. The broadcast was a success. Letting the song play out, the three Aure nodded to each other. One of the Aure, the radio journalist named Mieke, prepared her script. She had a job to do, and she wanted to get it right. The two other Aure stepped out of the broadcasting room, moving to their respective control panels. They had to be careful with the equipment. It was very much junk and was very prone to breaking down. The song ended. It was time for the first broadcast to officially begin. Mieke took her place, cleared her throat, flicked her ears, and began. "Hello and welcome. If you're listening, this is Freedom Radio. For too long the Emperor has trampled on our rights. For too long the Emperor has ruled with an iron fist. For too long, I say, the Emperor has treated our galaxy like trash. For too long have our species been depopulated and killed to make room for humans. I believe that today can be a new start for us all. A new start for freedom, for peace, and for justice. This galaxy will not rot and fester under the boot of the Emperor forever. We all must do our part, and I am ready to do mine. Are you?" She paused. "Everyone has their role to play. I will do my role. My fellow broadcasters will do their roles. And you will need to do your role. In the name of justice, let our will be done. This is Freedom Radio, and we are now officially on the air. Stay tuned for inspirational music, news, and hope." She stopped. The microphone switched off. Her part was done, for now. The other broadcasters began to load up a playlist of music from the various xeno races across the galaxy. They entered the broadcast room, and shared a few quaint smiles. Their dreams had come true, and they had their radio. There wasn't much to be said between the trio. They had worked so closely together for so long they practically knew each other's thoughts. They didn't know if anybody would listen, but they could certainly try. They knew that at least their radio would be galaxy-wide.</s>

<|description|>Roland Evans Age:17 Personality & Bio: Humorous and vivacious, along with being very nosy and somewhat laid back. He always tries to find interests in many new things that look to him as appealing, and shows favor and compassion to whoever needs it, whoever it may be. His parents live out of town so he stays with a close friend of his while attending high school, and off hours he makes what free time he has to do personal writing on his life and his encounters as a small hobby.</s> <|message|>Roland Evans As Avery ran up to them, grabbing a tight hold onto Roland's arm, the three of them were ready to head inside. Though he could sense that Avery still felt anxious with everything happening so sudden, Roland wanted to make sure that she was eased away of agitation, and wanted her to feel more secure. She had spoke up before they went inside, telling them of how scared she was of meeting Mrs. Noonan and continuously thinking of becoming a burdening problem with the family. "You're worrying too much," said Roland, trying to keep her calm, "Nobody here is going to think of you as a problem. We did this because you deserve a better life than the one you were living." "Exactly," said Mr. Noonan, following up to Roland's statement, smiling at the girl, "You won't be a hassle of any sort, I guarantee you. You are part of this family now, and you'll be treated just as good as Roland and Steven, I can promise you that." As the door opened, they went indoors, finding that the main room was being occupied by Steven, sitting on the sofa playing a video game, and Mrs. Noonan going across with a basket full of laundry. Once they were inside though, Roland felt the fear from Avery suddenly increasing as she grasped his arm tighter. She told him of how different it was from last time, stating how scared and nervous she was. "I'll be back in here in a minute kids," said Mr. Noonan as he started walking off, "I'm going to talk to Mrs. Noonan real quick." As he had left, Roland stood there with Avery, not wanting her to feel the need to panic and be worried. As she kept a grasp onto his arm, Steven looked away from the television and stared at the two of them just standing there. "You guys do know that you can sit down, right?" said Steven, giggling as he thought how silly the two of them looked just standing awkwardly, "These couches aren't contaminated with anything, or are they?" "Avery, do you want to take a seat," asked Roland, seeing if she would feel better if she would sit down. "Yeah Avery, come on and join the party," said Steven, trying his best to be humorous, "There is plenty of love to go around." As Roland rolled his eyes, thinking how much of an idiot Steven is, he awaited to see what Avery wanted to do, hoping that someway she could be less anxious and more relaxed whatever she chose to do.</s> <|message|>Avery Jones Avery just looked at Mrs. Noonan walked by with the laundry basket and that Steven was playing something off the TV which did not look familiar to her at all. She till kept a god grip on Roland as she analyzed her surroundings with the new people in it. She did flinch a bit when Steven talked all of a sudden and he sounded different from the first time they ran into each other in the house. "um I guess we can sit down." She said to him after Mr. Noonan went off to go talk to his wife. She did settle down a bit but still had her hands on Roland's arm but it was not so tight anymore. She walekd over and sat on the couch still feeling weird about how different things were now and how it was still going to be to adjust to her new life. Whn Roland sat with her she placed her head on his shoulder for she mainly felt comfortable with him since he has been there for her the longest and has helped her out more then anyone has ever done in her life. After a few minutes her eyes closed and she was asleep again proving how mentally exhausted she was from all that has happened and being in a new enviorment. Her head stayed on his shoulder as she slept peacfully after the long crazy day with being in a hospital, dealing with the paparazzi, and having the noonan sign the foster parents paper work so they can have custody of her instead of ehr having to move someplace else and be extremely overwhelmed.</s> <|message|>Roland Evans Avery seemed a bit surprised, or at least that's how it felt as she kept her tight grip onto Roland's arm. Maybe it was because of Steven, actually being nice instead of having an ill-mannered attitude towards her that it seemed shockingly different to her, even though his sense of humor was still idiotically present. She agreed to take the offer and sit down, though she held close to Roland still, though he could understand as to why of course. "All right," said Roland to her as he took it upon himself to lead her to the couch. Her grip was still intact with his arm, but she followed and found her spot to seat herself upon and relax, him sitting next to her afterwards. Once they were both seated, she rested her head onto his shoulder, staying quiet. "Good," said Steven as he was smiling, "Now that we are all settled, let's see what happens next." "How about some television?" said Roland, "I know you've been gaming ever since you got back here after school. Besides, maybe Avery wants to watch something." As soon as he said that, he looked next to him only to find that Avery had fell asleep. Knowing she has been having a rough time, and just getting out of a difficult situation, he understood that she was very tired, so he didn't say a word about it. Steven on the other hand……. "Well would you look at that," said Steven, leaning frontward's to see that Avery fell asleep on Roland's shoulder, giving a goofy look, "Looks like she wanted to hit the hay a little early. You know what that means?" "It means you're nerve-racking," said Roland, looking at Steven with a sarcastic smile, turning away afterwards rolling his eyes. A couple of minutes afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Noonan came into the main room to check if everything was ok, and of course for Mrs. Noonan to meet Avery. "Is everything ok in here," asked Mrs. Noonan. "Fine," said Steven, focusing on his game while replying, "Though it seems someone is becoming a bit tempered with me for no apparent reason." "Steven is acting like usually does. An idiot," said Roland as he replied to Mrs. Noonan's question, "But the person I wanted you to meet is in dreamland right now." "Oh," replied Mrs. Noonan, "Well let her rest for now. I don't want to wake her up. The poor girl." "You should have seen the hospital," followed up Mr. Noonan, finding his way into the conversation, "It was nonstop. Photographers and cameramen all over the place. Reporters trying to get inside, pushing and shoving. All of that just to see one little girl about her abusive lifestyle." "Oh my goodness," said Mrs. Noonan after hearing of the events near the emergency room, "It must have been a big deal if there was people shoving each other to get inside." "Basically because it's the biggest thing to happen to happen in our boring town," said Steven. "Avery?" said Roland, trying to wake up Avery once more so that she could meet Mrs. Noonan.</s> <|message|>Avery Jones Avery was not easy to wake at first for she was just to tired about what had happened and her body just wanted her to rest for a long period of time to help her body recover. But she was once again awoken by Roland and groaned whn he did that. "Why can't I just sleep I am tired." She said to him as she slowly opened her eyes but her head was still on his shoulder. Once she looked up too see pretty much everyone was looking at her and she shrunk back a bit since she was still not that social and not used to having all eyes on her. "um.....hi." was all she said when she saw Mrs. Noonan was looking at her and it was Avery's first time meeting her in person. "What am I suppose to do Roland?" She asked Roland in a whisper for sh had no clue at what to do or say. Avery was just sitting in the room in scrubs from the hospital, no real clothes, exhausted, and was just tired. But she was also scared about making a good first impression with Mrs. Noonan since its thier first meeting each other. Avery's grip had retightened on his arm for she was just mainly scared and it was just going to take time for her to get back to normal well in societies eyes at least. She woulld still be mentally scared from what she went through and will hesitate around men (expect Roland and Mr. Noonan) due to what her s call father did to her.</s> <|message|>Roland Evans As Avery awoke, her voice speaking in tiresome grievance as she complained about waking up, everyone in the room stood and watch as she opened her eyes and wondered of what her reaction was going to be. Once she looked around and noticed all eyes were on her, an expression of worry developed onto her as she nervously spoke to Mrs. Noonan, telling her hello. "You must be Avery," said Mrs. Noonan with a sweet smile across her face, "I've heard many things about you. How are you feeling sweetheart?" Roland had hoped that Mrs. Noonan's cheerful and bright personality would bring Avery a bit more comfort, but instead she was hesitant. She gripped Roland's arm very tight and asked what was she suppose to do next. He knew that she was scared, mainly because of the gripping pain he was feeling in his arm, but he didn't want her to feel this way. "Tell her whatever you feel," he said to her, "Just be honest with us so that we can help you. Nobody is here to hurt you Avery." As Mr. Noonan kept quiet and Steven focusing back onto the television, Mrs. Noonan leaned down to lower herself into Avery's position. While on one knee, she reached out to grab Avery's hand gently, trying to comfort her and tell her that everything would be ok. "I know you've been through a lot of pain," she said softly, "But nobody is going to bring harm to you sweetie. Everything you have been through can be forgotten because you've been giving a chance at a better life with us, and we are going help you in any possible way we can. It might take a while, and I can understand that, but just be open with us so that we can help you."</s> <|message|>Avery Jones Avery was still frighten wtih everything for she was mainly used to Roland not the Noonan family, except for Mr. Noonan a little. Steven she was still not at all sure about since he was well strange to her and for Mrs. Noonan she had mainly encountered problems from people that were her gender with her mom walking out and having all the female students torture her more mentally. But when Mrs Noonan grasped her hand she flinched a bit showing how badly she had been abused to be scared even of a gental touch. But it also showed Mrs. Noonan how skinny she truly was due to being malnourished. "This all feels so weird I am not used to all this people caring and wanting to help it is all so new to me for I am still scared of the world having a mom who walked out on me and then a dad blame me for everything makes me scared of people except Roalnd and hi stubbornness in wanting to talk to me." Avery explained a little tense from everything."And it is also weird taht all I have for clothes are these scrubs now I miss my jeans and sweater I wore all the time, even my run down sneakers." She said for she had grown used to wearing those clothes all the time it was comfort but she knew that the hospital cut her clothes off so they could take her in for surgery. The big thing that was going t take time was her trust in people. The only person she had truly trust was Roland. She had loosened her grip on him a bit after realizing that she had a tight squeeze on his arm. Avery mainly had no clue at what else to say or do now she felt tired, exhausted, scared, and a bunch of weird emotions that was just spining in her head. "I am sorry for being so skittish I never really grew up with great role models in my life." she apologized to them.</s>

<|message|>Roland Evans As the family tried to make Avery feel more welcome and accepted in the household, she had explained to them how she was not used to any sort of concern to her well-being from others. She talked about her fear of people and her parents, mainly her father, but mentioned her meeting with Roland and how determined he was to talk to her. Once Roland heard he was mentioned, a smirk rose upon his face. Avery then discussed her clothing issue, stating that her normal attire consisting of her sweater, jeans and wore out shoes were basically gone. "Don't you worry on that sweetheart," said Mrs. Noonan, replying quickly after Avery finished talking, "First thing we plan to do for you is clothes shopping, and you can pick and choose whatever you would like." As Mrs. Noonan stood back up straight on her feet, Roland noticed a bit more of ease and less pain in his arm, realizing Avery was starting to feel a bit more relaxed. Afterwards, Avery began to apologize, telling them she was acting nervous and stated that she never had grew up with great role models. The Noonan's and Roland began to laugh after they were called role models. None of them had ever considered of ever thought of being worthy to be called such, but it was very nice of her to say. "You don't have to apologize Avery," said Mr. Noonan, "It's ok. We just want you to feel at home is all, and we are going to help you in every possible way we can." "Yeah," said Steven abruptly joining in the conversation with a pleasant look, "Though it isn't very often to be called a role model." Roland had looked over to Steven, giving him an awkward expression, with Steven looking back at Roland confused. "What?" said Steven. "Either way," began Roland, looking back over to Avery, "We're here for you Avery. Don't ever feel like you can't talk to us about anything. Me, Mr. and Mrs. Noonan, we will help you with anything you ask." Roland knew that it would take time for her adjustment into a new lifestyle, especially being placed into a new family, but he knew in the back of his head that everything will work out. He felt that everything eventually will be ok, and that Avery could one day become a happier person, hopefully, but only time would tell.</s>

<|description|>Kluuto Gender: Female Appearance: Has a more pointed pair of ears than your ordinary goblins. Sharper, narrower eyes as well. Also looks grumpy and haughty most of the time. Personality: Just like how she looked when she was a human, and how she looks now as a goblin, she has a haughty and stand-offish attitude to her. She had a sharp gaze and she rarely smiled in front of others. Only when she was doing her own thing alone when you could usually find her smirking to herself. She also had a strong sense of justice. She would refuse to bend her own moral code to achieve her goals. She also hated losing. Past Life History: She used to be a high school student before all of this happened, and she was pretty much the epitome of an honor student. She even became the student council president as a result. She was pretty indeed, but she was also infamous for being quite nagging to the other students, particularly those she deemed lazy and/or irresponsible. She also had a war of sorts with the anime club in their school who wanted to put in all sorts of manga and light novels into the school library. As a literary lover herself, she couldn't stand that such low quality works in the library, especially since she used to be the librarian before becoming the student council president. Thanks to that however, she was quite familiar with all the reincarnation light novels that was getting popular at the time. Quite an irony that she ended up becoming a main character of one. Gift: The ability of language comprehension. Thanks to her fondness and capability of reading difficult books when she was still human, she now had an affinity for learning languages. For now, she has some understanding of the human language. Other: She particularly hated those reincarnation story protagonists who would receive a powerful ability right off the bat and then proceed to lord it over to the rest of the world, especially when they acted immorally with it.</s> <|message|>Lyminia Lyminia Finally calming down fully not normal as Sabu chatted on with the armored humans standing before them, Lyminia took a moment to observe the work of their gear armor. Not that she was any kind of blacksmith, but at the same time this was curious to her since this was the first time she had seen human armor and such. Then as Sabu explained the spell markers to them, she gave a brief but short nod, allowing the guards to do their job before they finally opened the gate. One of the other females had seemed to whine about the prospect, but in reality Lyminia did not blame them. Random Goblins, including one red psychopath, could be a danger from their perspective. Really, if there was a Goblin city and a human came to it, she would want to keep an eye on them if she did not know them well. Then again, perhaps Sabu was somewhat partial to this place as well. Whatever the case was, she didn't speak up towards the female who had complained. Wasn't worth slowing things down again from her perspective. It was then she heard Sabu speak and gesture to them all to follow him inside, however, mentioning heading to get their magical affinities analyzed first before the tour officially began. Letting out a small sigh of relief at the prospect of getting this first important question answered, Lyminia immediately began following after Sabu through the city gate. She did not know what a human city would look like really, but she hoped this would be an interesting time for discovery and such. First, see if she could learn and use magic or not. Second, find useful locations for herself, such as a place that sold or made tools and a library of sorts she could learn the human language in. Considering she didn't know what everyone's Gifts were, though, on a side note she had no idea if any of them would be able to use magic anyways. --- Sonata@Hammerman@DracoLunaris@Leotamer@Malchivo</s> <|message|>Iris Iris turned bright red as Sabu corrected her negative assumption. Apparently it was all foreigners that got tagged and not just monsters. Well she now looked like an ass. "Oh, uh, woops. My bad for making poor assumptions." She still didn't like the tracking situation but at least it wasn't just them who were being marked. Speaking of said mark she flinched a little at the little sting that came with being marked, really she was to surprised by the pain to try and resist but the sensation passed quickly enough. That could have gone worse she supposed . Entrance given she hurried along after Sabu, interested to get the magic test underway and then get the tour. While magic affinity might not be her gift, the chief and even the mundane looking guards could do a little bit of magic and she was hoping she could too.</s> <|message|>Kichi Sabu The walk through the city was...odd, to say the least. The newborns hadn't even seen the Goblin tribe proper, but the human city was something on another scale entirely. Countless people filled the streets, stalls selling everything from magical artifacts of dubious quality to all manner of food standing wherever one looked. The very sound of the city was omnipresent, the mingling together of innumerable human voices. "Stick close to me. We don't want anyone getting lost, gahaha!" Sabu's warning seemed prudent. As he had said, to the humans this was the largest city of the prefecture, their prefectural capital through which goods, services, and gold all flowed as a nexus point. It would be worryingly easy to get lost amidst the crowd if one wasn't careful. And yet... "<Hey, it's Sabu! When are you coming by the tavern? It's been weeks!>" "<Mommy, look, it's the goblin man who stopped that giant rabbit!>" "<Ah, Adventurer Sabu, we have a new spear in stock. Perhaps you'd like to take a look?>" How the hell did every other person in this overcrowded city seem to know Sabu? Before long, those who had managed to stick with the Lesser Draconic Goblin found themselves outside of a small wooden building, a faded sign that was illegible even to those who knew the human language hung out front. Without a word, Sabu swung the door open and stepped inside, waving for the others to follow him in. "<Ah, the dragon-blooded Goblin. It's been some time.>" The building interior opened out into a single large room, with a corridor running further behind into darkness. In this room, a handful of chairs were scattered about almost randomly, what looked to be a young human boy of no more than eight years old seated on one of them. His eyes glimmered slightly as he glanced at the new entrants, seamlessly switching to the goblin language. "And you've brought new ones, too. Well, since it doesn't look like you're here for lessons, I can guess why you've brought them. Come, come, who's first?" He asked, hefting himself off of the chair and turning to face the group properly.</s> <|message|>Kluuto Kluuto --- Kluuto made sure to stay close to Sabu as they went through the city. She had to stop herself from wandering off as there were simply so many interesting things she wanted to look closer at. But she didn't want to risk getting lost, as doing so would complicate matters for everyone involved. As they walked, Kluuto heard some humans greeting Sabu. It seemed he had some sort of popularity among the humans. Well, it shouldn't be too hard as his form and physique certainly made him stand out. Hmm, this is the place? It's certainly... less fancy than I thought it would be. Kluuto now stood in front of a small wooden building. There was a sign in the front but the letters were so faded even her couldn't make out what it said. When she saw Kluuto waving to them to enter, she immediately obeyed however, trusting Sabu more than her own judgment. What is this? A child? Indeed, the one greeted them was a boy no older than eight. Was he the one that would examine their magical capability? Surely there must be some sort of mistake. She had expected a bearded old magician or someone that actually looked like a mage. Kluuto glanced at Sabu, but she couldn't find any confusion on his expression. So he really was the one. "Me first," Kluuto said to him, raising her arm. Might as well see right away what this boy was capable of.</s> <|message|>Iris As they wandered through the town Iris felt more and more guilt for her former disdain for the humans. She had been so quick to judge, but here they were, Sabu having numerous friendly greetings thrown at him as they made their way to the magic tester. At least she assumed they were friendly, she only recognised the Dragon blooded goblin's name out of their sentences, but their tone was certainly welcoming. There were so many interesting sights to see, she had to fight against her natural curiosity in order to not get separated from the group. She wasn't sure if she liked the noise however, nor how cramped it was, it was somewhat suffocating to be surrounded by all these massive busy humans. Certainly an interesting place to visit, but so far she would not like to live here. --- Iris was slightly surprised by the nature of the place they had been taken and by the one that greeted them. She was more surprised when the boy began to speak the in goblin tongue. She supposed maybe he dealt with their kind on a regular basis? She wondered about the boy, was he some kind of magical prodigy, an old man who made himself young or perhaps an apprentice to the real mage who was busy doing magic stuff in the back. She was leaning towards the last but imagined it would be rude to assume any of her guesses. She offered a "Nice to meet you" and a wave before seating herself in one of the haphazardly placed chairs as kife ears eagerly put herself first in line. She would wait her turn to come, hopefully this would not take to long. She was looking forwards to lunch.</s> <|message|>Kichi Two The young boy nodded as Kluuto volunteered herself, a slight chuckle leaving him at the goblins' collective reaction to him. He was hardly surprised by that, of course, but that didn't make it any less amusing to see. "Very well, very well. Ah, you probably don't have a strong enough soul to actually fight back, but if you do then please don't. This is a bit more intrusive than normal Appraisal or those markers of the guards, so if you try to resist then your soul might...break." Before Kluuto even had so much as a chance to blurt out a response, the air grew dense around the boy with the reek of magical energy; unlike the red and black fog of Sabu and the human general he had fought, there was no visible indication this time save for the fact that one could certainly gauge that "something was being channeled". The boy's eyes met Kluuto's, a wry grin playing across his face. "<Vaish, grant me eyes.>" Visible only to Kluuto, from the boy's eyes streamed light, a flowing burst that jolted like a burst of static from his eyes and into the Goblin's. If the actions of the guards had made them feel exposed, then this was that same feeling brought up to the utmost degree. And then, as quickly as it began, it had ended, the boy nodding to himself lightly while Kluuto would likely feel drained from the ordeal. "Mm, not bad. You haven't undergone any Touchstones, but your soul's a bit stronger than a normal Goblin's would be starting out, even with a Gift. Having a Gift itself is always pleasant as well. Language comprehension's certainly valuable to have, especially if you decide to try your hand at the more ancient ones. Physical parameters are normal. Magical potential...well, you don't have any elemental affinities, but given the strength of your soul, you could probably become competent in magic if you put in the work to learn and get the appropriate Evolutions; your Gift will no doubt help with that. Right now, you're not meeting any Evolution qualifications, but you could probably get into a more humanoid Goblin form if you had higher exposure to humans, or any variant of scribe-themed monsters if you work on your Gift. Alternatively, you could go for a more standard Evolution, improving your physical parameters to qualify for Hobgoblin or something. Those are just some examples of course, not even I know every single monster a Goblin could theoretically evolve into." "What's a bit more curious is that the state of your soul's a bit odd. There's some information in there that even a Total Appraisal can't penetrate, which is something We've almost never seen in the past." He remarked, grin widening a bit. "Almost like there's information there that doesn't belong in this world." Shrugging a bit, the boy let out another chuckle. "Well, hopefully that answers your questions. Any others who want a go?"</s> <|message|>Redd Redd had simply followed along, staying out of focus. After his last stunt, the others were guarded. He would need to act when they was not around. He stepped towards the mystic, though looking around to see if someone else wanted to step up. There was a curiosity about him, but he was not impatient in this matter. It didn't really matter to him if he was first or last. A part of Redd was worried about revealing himself to much. While Redd is not malicious, there is the chance that the ignorant could perceive him as evil. This and the tracker worried him, not because of what they said it was for, but for what it could potentially be used for. Redd is not a trusting goblin, for each person can only be trusted to a certain degree, and he does not know the degree that the people around him could be trusted. However, so far, it seems as though following along would be beneficial to him.</s>

<|message|>Kluuto The examination process was not like what she had expected. It was over in a flash yet it was certainly uncomfortable. It was if he was drilling straight into her mind, taking the information necessary for his examination. Kluuto then heard what the boy had to say attentively. Basically, she had to evolve first before she could become competent in magic. And she could either choose the traditional route of evolution of a goblin, becoming a hobgoblin via training her body, or have more exposure with humans or other scribe-themed monsters to evolve to a more humanoid form. Well, she knew perfectly well which option she would want to take. He then said that there was also something odd with her soul, other than how it was stronger than your ordinary goblin soul. Apparently, there was some information there that even his examination skill, Total Appraise, couldn't penetrate. It was as if it was an information that didn't belong to this world, he said. "Thank you," she said to him, bowing a little. "I now know what I should be doing next. I believe I shall aim for that humanoid evolution. That means I'll probably have to stay and mingle with the humans in this town. Is there a place where I can get a job related to human language? Perhaps a place with lots of books? Or a goblin to human translating job?" She also looked at Gabu, expecting him to answer as well.</s>

<|description|>Senna Small-stalk. Called the "Shadowkitten", or just "Kitten" in her hometown. Title: - Age: 11 Gender: Female Personality: Senna is a happy sort of child, the kind that isn't easily brought down and who recovers quickly when they are. She's a survivalist by nature, a careful, practical girl who can be trusted to be reliable during tough situations. She has a certain, cat-like curiosity to her, but she is always sure to keep a handle on herself so that it doesn't get her into trouble. Her sense of adventure is strong, despite her general level-headedness. She is a person who puts the most importance on self-interest, and considers the needs of others second. She's not above using underhanded tactics to keep herself going, and unlike what you would expect from someone her age, violence is not something she's a stranger to. Having lived most of her life toughing it out in the wilderness, concepts such as luxury or extravagance are lost on her, and she would be more than happy to enjoy a simple, peaceful sleep in the crook of a tree branch if the situation called for it. When it comes to her interactions with others, Senna is sensible, and usually to the point. She does engage in basic deception, to the degree that benefits her, but is just as likely to display a simple honesty when she has no reason to lie. She has a tendency to subtly imitate or go along with others around her, more out of habit than anything else, and this does help her come off as more likeable where otherwise she may seem a little stiff. She actually does have a sense of humour. Biography: Orphaned at a young age by an epidemic, Senna was adopted by the local woodsman and hunter, often referred to as the "Shadowcat". He was somewhat of a local legend, but he had a weak spot for kids, and took her in as both his adopted daughter and his student. She took to him immediately, with his quiet coolness and the fleeting warmth of his smiles at the nightly campfires. She looked up to him, as the one who provided for her and who shared cool stories of the adventures of his youth. From him, she learned the arts of the wilds, and how to live off the land. While she frequently visited the village, she spent much of her time out with her new father in the nearby forests. When she did spend time in the village, she was certainly well-liked by the people there, possibly because her biological parents were quite well liked as well before their demise. She was often jokingly called "Shadowkitten" because of the way she stuck to her adopted father like glue, stalking along in his shadow pretty much whenever they were together. The older she grew, and the more she learned to do things herself, the more she started to help her father in his work. She never stopped learning, of course, and there was no chance of her catching up to her teacher anytime soon, but about when she reached the age of ten she begun to be able to manage hunts on her own. When she realized she could fend for herself, she would often go for long treks into the woods on her own, and had all sorts of adventures, ranging from the discovery of an ancient tower to a close encounter with a fearsome Grizzly Bear. When word reached the village of the God's descent, along with it came information on some of the gods that were seen. From this, she learned of the existence of a Ranger Goddess, which perked her interest almost immediately. That said, she probably would never have left if it weren't for her teacher's urging, telling her she should go and make a name for herself under this new Goddess. The entrance to the Labyrinth was close, so she had no issue making her way there, and in contracting with the Goddess she sought. Now, it was just a matter of what she wanted to do. Skills: Sharpened Instincts: Heightened intuition and senses, honed through a life of hunting and outdoor activities. While not on the level of her teacher, Senna is more than capable of using her instincts to seek out and avoid danger in her surroundings, and can usually determine when somebody means her ill will with nothing more than her intuition. She's a bit more perceptive than most, and can easily get a grasp for when something is "wrong" with a situation or place. Hunting/Tracking: A necessary skill for somebody forced into her position, and a skill that was honed greatly under the tutelage of her Teacher. She can track targets across long distances, find signs of prey movements, or activity, and make use of a range of hunting techniques including trapping, tracking and skinning. Aptitude and training in stealth is a given. Used for hiding one's presence and making use of environmental features to conceal themselves from detection by foes or allies alike. Control of the body and mind is very important, so a certain degree of natural calm and quiet is to be expected. Footsteps, breathing and movements can easily be masked, allowing for silent approaches or escapes, depending on the situation. Camouflage, misdirection and the hiding of motives are all also possible. Ranged Combat: An invaluable skill for a hunter, allowing for a fast, accurate kill at a range, if you have the knack for it. With her sharp eyes, careful, calm nature and capable fingers, Senna found that she was more than capable of preforming in Archery and other forms of ranged fighting alike. Able to throw axes or spears effectively, due to her having some training in these areas. Doesn't apply to more complicated weapons, such as throwing knives or chakram. Survival: A set of skills necessary for survival in the wilderness. Excluding those already mentioned, the skills included are basic first aid, herblore, fishing, wood carving, cooking, shelter creation, fire-starting and straightforward wilderness knowledge. Senna isn't an expert, but she can manage. Not effective at winning, but great at not dying. Includes a capacity to move through the world and manipulate her limbs in complex manners, necessary for navigating terrain more complex than a clear, open meadow. Allows for feats of advanced mobility like tree-climbing, swimming and generally agile, acrobatic movements. As somebody who spent a great amount of her time outdoors, these skills came to her naturally. She's quite quick on her feet. Guild: Cernunnos Equipment: Throwing Weapons: One steel-tipped spear, usable for throwing or melee combat. Two throwing axes with steel heads. Bow: A beautiful, hand-crafted bow, perfectly suited for Senna's height. Includes a quiver and cleaning supplies, with 10 steel-tipped arrows on hand. Survival Gear: Includes rope, string, a pot, a bedroll, fire-starting supplies, a skinning knife, a carving knife, some bandages (and herbs for cleaning wounds), salt, a large skin for water or alcohol, and some basic rations (Dried/Smoked Meats, fruit). Contained in a "Bag". Currency: One gold, and five silver. Contained in a small, independent purse.</s> <|message|>Tarou Tanaka As Senna took out the flasks, Thoth's eyes lit up slightly and her face cleared up, the God walking forwards somewhat meekly to inspect them further. "...huh, it looks pretty low-level, but the craftsmanship behind it is beyond first rate. Hmph, I guess I still have a ways to go before it..." She mumbled under her breath contemplatively before straightening back up and nodding slightly. "Those look like...well, I guess you could call them 'Basic Health Potions'." She explained, much of her earlier unease apparently absent while she was immersed in her subject of expertise, though not completely. "U-Um, so basically, they generate and propogate a magic formula through your body, but since the formula's embedded in the entire flask's contents, you'll need to drink the whole thing for it to have a proper effect. Only drinking half will make the effect of it be far less than half, because the magic formula doesn't show its full ability until it's completed...I-I can explain that better once one of you gets magic, because then Heka's allowed to tell you about magic." "But...um...anyway, these two will basically heal wounds and things like that. It's not regeneration, but more like accelerated natural healing with a few downsides, like aging, taken out of the equation. These ones are what I like to call Basic-class, so they'll only really fix up minor wounds fully...er, but if you have any life-threatening ones, drinking one or two of these won't heal it fully, but it'll buy you more time. Does, um, does that make sense?" Around that time, Thoth noticed she had more visitors, one of whom was a Guild member of hers who seemed to be incapable of moving. "A-Ah! Wh-What happened! Why are you carrying him?! D-Did he get hit by a soul attack?! O-Oh, but I don't have the materials for a spiritual restoration potion, oh no, oh no, oh no..."</s> <|message|>Alexander Roma, "Alex/a" Thankfully their path was clear and Alexander was able to put his sword away in short order as they exited the Labyrinth without further encounters. It was cumbersome, but he had also managed to bring both their pack and case up without Lynn's assistance. Sure it had involved a bit more rope behind Vincent to secure the pack to Vincent's chest, but at least they had all their belongings. Besides, it's not like Alexander particularly cared how ridiculous they looked. He wasn't sure if Ares would appreciate one of her members returning in such an inglorious fashion, but he could deal with the fallout afterwards. So with plenty of eyes on him and his paralyzed teammate, Alexander made the trek up North. Evidently he wasn't the first person to show up at Thoth's lab and he blinked in surprise at Senna's presence, not having thought the little archer would have any business at the alchemy God's lab. His eyes narrowed slightly at the vial in the God's hand, looking between it and his teammate, but Alexander ultimately didn't say anything on the matter. He raised a hand to try and stop Thoth's panicked guesses, before he explained. "Nothing that serious. Just some paralyzation from the Poison Slime we encountered. Also, mind appraising this? It was covered by one of the Poison Slimes, not sure if it might have been contaminated." He held the flask out to Thoth for examination, and upon it being taken would begin to untie Vincent from himself.</s> <|message|>Tarou Tanaka Thoth blinked twice before taking a slight step towards Alexander to get a better look at the flasks he was holding. "...um, those look like Basic Health Potions, the same as the ones she found." The God explained, weakly pointing over at Senna. "I-I can't really tell if they're contaminated off the bat, but if you leave them with me for a bit, um, I can always take a look at them o-once I finish up making this base." She mumbled, indicating the cauldron filled with silver liquid that she had sampled mere seconds earlier. A couple of seconds passed before Thoth paused again, turning back to face Alexander with a confused expression. "...w-wait, did you say he was paralyzed by a Poison Slime?" She asked, eyes wide. "Th-That's not possible. I watched through his eyes for a bit when all of you walked in the second floor...b-but I did have to look away to get back to working on my base. Those slimes you were fighting were just normal Poison Slimes though...th-they didn't have any difference in abilities from the last time, so they should have just put a poison attribute on. They, um, they couldn't have caused paralysis..."</s> <|message|>Alexander Roma, "Alex/a" "Right," Alexander muttered as he left the vial with Thoth for the appraisal, "please do just that." He remembered Vincent's quickly afterwards and fished the other man's potion from a pocket and passed it over to Thoth as well. "This one too please." He took her words into consideration and figured that as a Goddess her knowledge of the Labyrinth would be better than their own. Especially given she was supposed to be somewhat of a bookworm and intellectual if the rumors were correct. Thus Alexander didn't doubt her words and thought back to what had happened in the Labyrinth. "Well… I don't think there was anything on the vials since he grabbed them with his gloves on. Beyond that, he drank a bit of some antidote for the poison at first…" His eyes narrowed in thought as he tried to recall the exact details of that moment, and after a moment he felt more certain. "Yeah, that's when his movements got a bit sluggish. The antidote wasn't fully effective or something since he downed the rest of it only a few moments later, and right after that was when he got fully immobilized." From the details he remembered it seemed to point at the antidote as the most likely culprit for Vincent's poisoning which was frankly a shitty trade-off. While he waited for a response from the Goddess he also began to untie the pack and suit from Vincent, keeping the paralyzed adventurer propped up with a leg. "Reason aside, got anything to fix him up or will it pass with time?"</s> <|message|>Tarou Tanaka At Alexander's words, Thoth's expression abruptly changed, her confused state replaced as if she had an epiphany. "U-Um, I...I'll be right back!" She blurted out abruptly before running in the opposite direction of the adventurers, towards the back room of her lab. From where Alexander and friends stood, they'd be able to hear a few crashing noises, the sound of something heavy being knocked over, and a strange sizzling sound all emanate from the back room, until Thoth emerged about a minute and a half later. Shuffling forwards and facing the ground, the God was quiet for several seconds before she managed to speak up. "...um, s-so, the antitoxin I made...might have accidentally gotten mixed with a paralytic I was working on by accident." She mumbled. "A-And...er...well, I don't have enough materials to make a new batch, so i-it's all I have for now. I-I'll be selling it at a discount though, since...um...since it paralyzes you. I don't have the supplies to make an antidote either, but it should wear off on its own in...a-a couple of hours." As expected of potion master.</s>

<|message|>Senna Small-stalk. Called the "Shadowkitten", or just "Kitten" in her hometown. Senna blinks silently through most of Thoth's explanation, but upon hearing "heals wounds", she smiles and nods sagely. "I understand." When a whole lot of others come in and start talking about all sorts of things, like soul attacks, and paralysis, Senna decides it would be the best time to slip out. So, nodding and smiling at Thoth and the others, she heads out the door and goes to search for Cernunnos. The flasks are replaced into her bag, and she treads lightly into the district that was home to the two trickier Goddesses. Once there, she waits around a little to see if Cern would show herself. Because looking for her was hard.</s>

<|description|>Adrianne Valenthin Gender: Female Age: 24 Class: Sanctioned Psyker Psyker Power Divination & Telekinesis are her main fields of psychic talent, but she also possesses two other abilities such as Smite and Storm of Lightning, as well as a rudimentary form of mental communication. Does not possess any noteworthy healing abilities, and she is just as likely to send someone to the warp as she is to heal a minor scratch. Appearance: 5.8ft tall, pale skin and snow white hair. Sturdy and heavy frame, but still retains her feminine figure despite adhering to a strict physical training regime. The base of her outfit consist of a simple yet elastic skin tight jumpsuit in dark brown color that is capable of withstanding the vacuum of space as well as provide a decent protection against the elements, though offers little protection versus physical threats. Overlayed on top is a series of armaplas plates that form a chestguard, cuisses, knee-high boots, shoulderpads and gloves stretching back and up to her elbows where they form into a sharp point. They offer good locational protection, especially from the front, but leave her jumpsuit exposed in other places, particularly from her lower back and down to the back of her knees where her boots cover both sides of her ankles. The plates are polished to a light gray color, and almost look like silver. The surface is covered with a series of intricate design and artwork in typical imperial fashion, featuring numerous flutes and ridges across the plates, as well as a couple skull imprints. Above her armor she wears a satin blue silk cloak that hangs down from the back of her left shoulder, as well as a silk loincloth hanging from the front of her belt of similar color. Thrown sideways around her torso is a series of books and scrolls attached by chain. Running up along the spine of her chestguard is a refractor field generator built into the plate itself, taking form of a small generator emitting a series of horizontal, blue lights up along the back of the chestplate, and shaped much like a human skeletal spine. When activated, a faint, blue and almost invisible barrier appears around her figure. Her helmet is made out of the same material as that of her armor, and it takes the form of a gothic plated helmet, with a narrow but wide blue glass visor and a longer neck guard extending out behind her helmet. Two plastic tubes are attached to a rebreather device at the bottom mouth piece of her helmet, that stretch out on each side of her neck and down into a small, highly pressurized air tank built into the back of her chestguard. Her boots are magnetic, and her entire suit when worn enables her to survive in space, and also provides immunity to most chemical and biological attacks. She carries enough oxygen to last for almost an hour. Equipment: Main Weapon: Her primary weapon is a two handed power-weapon in the form of an oversized saber with a sleek blade and an extended handle which doubles as a psyker staff, and adorned with sigils, trinkets, technological gadgets and inscriptions. She often uses her weapon in conjunction with her telekinetic powers to amplify its destructive potential. "Scylla" [Custom-Built Handgun], .50 caliber, 7 round clip size x 3 carried. Ceremonial Dagger. In essence, just a normal albeit flashy dagger with an adorned handle. Typically only carried for show, but is sharp enough to slice through unprotected skin with ease, and small enough to be concealed without much problem. Refractor Field. Description under Appearance. Servo-Skull: Mostly used to store events, data, recordings and scrolls. Savior – Saved an influential nobleman by foreseeing his assassination, tossing him out of the way of the sniper's bullet with her telekinetic powers and into a big wedding cake instead. Guide – Saved a band of arbiters from the underworld of a hive world during an uprising by using her powers of divination to avoid the roaming mobs and gangs and reached safety without incident. Not a single shot was fired during their escape. Hates Surprises – Accidentally electrocuted and sent three of the arbiters she had saved above to the infirmary when they tried to surprise her with a party later. Being so used to foresee danger before it happens, she is prone to freaking out over minor surprises that eludes her farsight. Fireteam – During an Ork incursion, she helped a fireteam of six guardsmen hold off a much larger band of orks after their sergeant was injured through using her powers of divination to guide their fire, turning what had been originally green recruits into seemingly crack shots. Any Ork that left its cover was immediately put down from long range, and when they mounted a frenzied charge together, they didn't make it more than halfway across the field to the trenches before they were wiped out by precision fire. Warpstorm over Mordran V - Adrianne was assigned to aid the planetary imperial garrison with culling a lesser greenskin uprising, assisting local Imperial Guard and Sisters of Battle forces with the purging when a warpstorm suddenly appeared over the otherwise peaceful colony world of Mordran V. Trapped on the planet, Adrianne found herself fighting for survival alongside her imperial guard as Chaos Ships appeared in orbit, and unleashed a ferocious invasion of the planet! Though the warpstorm only lasted for two weeks, by the time it had lifted, Mordran V had been transformed from a lush, promising garden world into a lifeless, daemon-infested hellscape, with most of its original population killed except for a few imperial strongholds that managed to weather the storm. Her experience from Mordran V would change Adrianne for ever. What had been a cautious girl that had stepped onto the planet would instead emerge a seemingly reckless with little to no restraint on her powers!</s> <|message|>Zhevon Amoxa "That should slow them down! But the rest will soon be upon us!" Adrianne yelled to Zhevon, but he had already dived into the dust cloud, bits of tile and glass peppering his coat. He kept his eyes peeled for the signature glowing pink eyes of the statues and attacked where he saw them as he sprinted towards the other end. He heard Adrianne's voice through the vox. "...The madwoman with the bolter at the other end, what should we do about her?" "They can't see past their nest, I'll get her out of the hallway! Everyone else should get out as well!" He replied, ducking under a stone fist. As the dust settled, the statues began to speed up again. Another voice crackled through the vox, it was James, his Vindicare. "Psyker how stupid are you? You no doubt just pissed off every tainted thing within the area. I do not have the ammo for this kind of prolonged combat." "Then save them. I have my own ammo, and it's INFINITE!" Adrianne yelled back. "Pick your shots carefully James, only fire if needed!" He replied to the assassin, "And don't insult the Psyker." He added, glancing back at his team. They had come after, which he half expected. With the rug now in shambles, he twisted and slid on the dusty floor for about a meter, ducking under a swipe, he brought his inferno pistol up and blasted a Statue in the chest, throwing it back several feet. That's when he noticed the small whirlwind of dust. It quickly gained traction, as rocks and pebbles was brought into the whirlwind. He narrowed his eyes. The whirlwind was vaguely familiar, he had seen many psyker abilities over the years, and he had seen this particular one a few times before. Then he recalled that Adrianne said something about a vortex. That jotted his memory. "No vortexes!" He said over the vox, fearing that it would tear the walls right out and reveal a new foe. He glanced behind him to check on their new guest, he was close enough to yell at her, but the problem was the twelve or so Statues between him and her. "Nevermind! A small one, tiny vortex!" He said to Adrianne. Several of the Statues noticed the Inquisitor and turned their attention to him. He turned to face his new aggressors, the first lunged right at him. Zhevon expertly dodged the attack by ducking under the statue, it's momentum sending it right into the growing vortex in the middle of the room. Zhevon looked at the Sister and yelled at her, "Get out of the hallway! They won't chase you there!" He turned off the power field on his sword and stabbed it into the ground, the blade cutting into the floor fairly well, giving him an anchor.</s> <|message|>Aviza Niskaru Aviza snapped from one statue to the next only pausing for a second or so before she opened fire once more onto another one of the statues. They would ignite in a brilliant white flame that illuminated the hallway before turning to ash upon the decorated tile floor beneath them. Everything around her was happening so very quickly that she barely had time to react. The dirt and the dust upon the ground started to move away from her slowly as if being pulled into a vacuum. Looking down to the end of the hall that was filled with murderous statues from the warp, she saw Adrianne, and quickly braced herself upon the floor after watching the motions that the Pysker was doing with her hands. She wasn't exactly sure, but she thought she could see the shockwave travel across the ground, creating a ripple in the air before hitting her head on. Everything had gone completely silent, as if going deaf after an extremely loud explosion. What happened next even caught Aviza off guard, who merely brought her weapon back up and started to shoot at the statues that were floating in some sort of zero-g field behind her. The amount of destruction and carnage that one person could cause with a simple cast was quite impressive, at least to Aviza. Her hearing came back all at once, causing her to jump ever so slightly as more gunfire echoed through the building. It was at that moment that she heard a man speak to her in a cold, serious tone, threatening her life if she did not cease fire immediately because of that fact that an Ordo Malleus Inquisitor of the Imperium and that she was shooting at him. "James Mathias Dyrdunn of the Officio Assassinorum, Temple Vindicare." She responded in the same hostile and cold tone while switching her ammo, "I am Aviza Niskaru of the Adeptus Sororitas, Bloody Rose." There was a pause as she shot a statue that lunged at the Inquisitor, it exploded in midair showering him in small debris. "I know exactly where my shots are going and who they are going to hit." There was another pause as she fired upon a statue that was trying to attack her. "I am fighting alongside you, the Inquisitor, and the rest of your squad so focus on the battle at hand, then we shall have ourselves an actual conversation, in private if you wish." The Inquisitor had yelled at her to leave the hallway immediately, and that is exactly what she did. Now standing next to the Pysker, she bent down on one knee and returned to shooting the statues, watching the warp vortex grow in strength upon the middle of the room.</s>

<|message|>Adrianne Valenthin "Nevermind! A small one, tiny vortex!" There was no reply from Adrianne, as the had all her focus on the summoning of the destructive Vortex of Doom, to the point she didn't even register one of the statues that charged her during the channeling, only to be blasted away by a shotgun blast. The usually dark eye sockets of the skull adorning her helmet were now burning with a ferocious, unholy light! A strong wind was now blowing through the room as purple tendrils of pure warp energies lashed out from the center of the growing vortex! The walls of the hallway began to murmur, creaking, as a deep groan, almost roar emanated from the structure around them! The vortex gained momentum at a steady pace, but the slow buildup would soon be interrupted by a terrible, metallic daemonic roar from the center of the vortex! A thousand screaming voices soon filled the entire corridor as the vortex just quadrupled in size. Lights flashed as the haunting voices echoed through the hallway, and the speed at which the the vortex rotated had now become blindingly fast! Nearby statues were picked up from the floor without a warning, alongside whatever pieces of glass; tiles and everything else that was unable to resist the pull of the vortex; to be sucked up into the center of the destructive vortex where they were obliterated into nothingness! But the vortex would not stop at the statues. On the outside, James got quite a view as the very walls of the hallway began to move, before suddenly caving in! Large stone pillars, stones and bricks, not to mention tonnes of dust soon fell inwards into the hallway, threatening to crush anyone or anything in its path before the walls were sucked into the annihilating center of the vortex! Where there once had been a wall with a series of ornate windows, there was now a clear view straight up into the sky for anyone standing in the hallway! Any statue located near the center of the hallway would be sucked in and annihilated in the vortex. Zhevon, who had been anchoring himself to the ground with his sword could feel the vortex's grip on him increasing, threatening to pull him alongside the very floor beneath him straight up into the vortex as it grew constantly in strength! Adrianne had stopped channeling the vortex, her eyes returning to normal as she stepped back. The vortex had now become a phenomenon of its own will and action, and continued to grind the hallway, tearing anything it could pull into it apart at a sub atomic level! Utter chaos now ruled in the hallway, between the screaming voices and the destructive & constantly expanding vortex in the middle of it! "This is why I love my job!" Adrianne thought to herself, studying the destruction taking place before her almost awe behind her mask. But before the psyker could really sit back and enjoy the show, she soon found herself gripped by the vortex's expanding reach! The vortex had expanded to begin pulling to every end of the hallway, and anyone in it would find themselves lifted up into the ground, and pulled straight towards the core of the vortex! "Oh-no, crap-crap-crap-crap!" Were the only words Adrianne could fathom to say as she found herself being pulled towards the center of the vortex like a ragdoll; alongside anyone else in the hallway who wasn't literally anchored to the ground; straight at her own vortex! But further away, another one of the miscellaneous objects nabbed by the vortex's pull was the null-rod lying on the floor. It began to slide across the floor, before it too was pulled up into the air and brought towards the center of the vortex. As the null-rod reached the center of the vortex, its effects would be immediate! With no warning, the vortex would immediately disappear in the blink of an eye, alongside any screaming and lights that had haunted the room! Neutralized by the aura of the null rod! But even though she had been saved from assured annihilation by her own creation, Adrianne realized that - she was still flying through the air at an alarming speed, and heading on a collision course with everyone else(including debris) in the room who might have been picked up by the vortex's pull before it had been dissipated!</s>

<|description|>Ryou A young Shinigami who appears to be in his mid-twenties. He has an unkempt appearance, with hairs hanging down over his face and shoulders. He often wears a grumpy expression, hinting at his tough and somewhat pessimistic personality. Despite this, he shows a certain level of curiosity and playfulness in his interactions with others, especially when surprised or intrigued by new situations. He also exhibits a strong protective instinct towards children and vulnerable individuals.</s> <|description|>Cyan Sung Sun A young woman with an ethereal and mysterious beauty. Her palest lavender eyes, olive-green hair that flows over her shoulders and down to her small back, and three pink dots decorated the skin below her right eye, all contribute to her unique appearance. She is a former Hollow with remnants of her mask on her body. Dresses in white which doesn't hinder any of her movements, it also doesn't stand out like people would normally at this time. Despite her youthful look, she possesses a mature and determined personality. She is focused and composed in her actions while displaying an underlying sense of curiosity and intelligence.</s> <|narrator|>A Shinigami named Ryou is spending the night in a graveyard, observing ghosts and contemplating his duties. He is surprised by the appearance of Cyan Sung Sun, a Hollow-turned-Arrancar who has been observing him for years. As they discuss their respective roles and abilities, a strong Hollow attacks Ryou. Despite his injuries, he manages to escape with the help of another Arrancar named Harribel, who has been following him without his knowledge. The Shinigami escapes into a portal created by his sword Ningytsukai. Meanwhile, Cyan Sung Sun continues to fight the Hollow, ultimately defeating it with her Hollow Flash attack.</s> <|message|>Ryou On top of the mosque is where he slept... sitting next to the angels were they wept. The Shinigami nodded off for a few winks, but was soon rested up for the night's nice blinks. Ryou sat there with Zanpaktou in hand... watching over the grave-stone covered land. The Shinigami sat there grumbling to himself. Ryou was fond of what he called "The Graveyard Shift". Yes... sitting around and watching over a human grave site was actually his ideal of a fun night, though hunting criminals seemed like a better use of his time. Or at least training. Sighing to himself, he stared up at the full moon and cackled softly. This reason he hadn't been able to resign from one of his lower seats was that very reason - the light of the full moon was nice. Plus Captain seemed to have everything handled, and Ryou had for the first time found someone he thought of as a "Mistress". She had earned his respect enough that the Dog part of his insult of a nickname certainly could describe his protectiveness. Even if he wasn't really strong enough to be one that could be considered for doing a good job of protecting her, since it seemed more like it would be the other way around. Of course there was an inkling recently that he had heard that some of the newer unseated had another name for him... "Dark Toymaker". The thought of the sound of such a nickname for a moment. He most certainly enjoyed being called the 'Mad Puppeteer'. Such a name certainly described his darling In'ei, plus that was it's name after all. He himself... well, he was the 'Mad' part of the equation. Though 'Dark Toymaker'... that was certainly intriguing. He figured that it probably had something to do with his habit of making toys of everyones shadows...and they where dark. Well, "If the shoe fits," as the old human saying went. Spending a little time in the human world allowed one to hear such things, especially here in this part of the world. He preferred though to be near where the action was. He wanted to be able to protect his Division, and also get back to protecting the kids. Sadly, he would be done with this assignment by tomorrow and then could move on to the next. Sitting up for a moment, he looked around the graveyard as he figured that it might be good to do another round. To see if any ghosts were wondering by. He had found two last night, since they seemed to like to come and visit their old bodies. So with a quick little jump, the Shinigami landed on the ground next to the stone building and began to walk between the rows of graves. He moved into the 'Mad Dog' routine at this point. Walking with that hunch to his shoulders and his hair hanging down in front of his face. This was also a place where hollows came to hunt, and frankly that was the real reason he was here. He had not encountered any yet, but he hoped he would before the night was up. Plus, the air didn't feel right. It was that sense one got when something wasn't exactly right. In fact, the feeling frustrated him so much that he began to tap on his sword more and more as he dragged his fingers gently along the grave tops. Little did he know or was thinking about was that the bad feeling he was getting was the fact he wasn't doing too good of a job hiding himself.</s> <|message|>Cyan Sung Sun The moon was a round silver disk in the sky, casting its glow upon the world below. Most of its occupants were asleep. However, there were those few who prowled still, the predators of the night that moved with ease through the darkness. A forest loomed on the graveyard's outskirts, eerie shadows being thrown onto the ground by its gnarled trees. Barely a sound penetrated the silent air. Within its embrace was a young woman, keeping close to each trunk as she continued to watch the man from afar. It wasn't the best of views, given the circumstances, but it was the best she could do without being detected. Her eyes were the palest of lavender. Olive-green hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back, ending right at its small. Three pink dots decorated the skin below her right eye. Being a former Hollow, there were the remnants of her mask on her body. Long hair clip-like extensions protruded from over her right eye, keeping her hair back. Though she was dressed in a white dress, not only did it not hinder any of her movements, it also didn't stand out like people would normally at this time. Instead it seemed as though the darkness swallowed her, keeping her hidden from any roaming eyes. Her expression was composed and intent on him. Named Cyan Sung Sun, the young woman had been keeping watch on the one called Dark Toymaker for well over three years now. Of course, it wasn't all her doing. Along with her comrades, she and they had gathered information about the man, collecting and compiling it until they had a good idea of what to make of him. What they knew left much to be desired, though. Did he have any connection to Aizen? Have they ever met? Did the two fight? And most importantly, did he ever see the man's Shikai? If so, he would be vulnerable to any attack made by Aizen seeing as how it controls all five of the senses. Whatever reality he wants a person to see becomes their reality. Comrades can kill one another because of this, just by making one look exactly like him. It was a tragedy really. Many honorable Shinigami have died from this ability alone. It was for this reason that the three Arrancars kept an eye on him, because he might have never encountered him or this attack. If he didn't, he would be immune until the next time they meet. Perhaps he will be that one...or perhaps not. Where is Mila Rose? she murmured only to herself. Its her turn to take watch, and she isn't even here. Glancing up at the sky, she frowned. The most mature of the bunch, she had taken the time to make a schedule for everyone to follow. Did they care to listen though? No. Apacci only wanted to come if a fight was about to go down, and the same went with Mila. Why couldn't they be more like adults about this? Harribel asked them to do this, after all Aizen needed to be defeated. In order to make this a reality, a loner who has not met him must be found. Idly she brushed her hands along the front of her dress and looked at the Dark Toymaker again. Something out of the corner of her eyes grabbed her attention. Was that a Hollow? She wondered, moving a little closer.</s> <|message|>Ryou The young Shinigami continued to mumble softly to himself as he walked between the grave stones. The peace and silence of the outside world were so quiet when compared to the sounds inside of his head. His Zanpakuto argued with each other in such an adorable and laughable fashion that the Shinigami almost didn't notice that he wasn't alone among the gravestones of the dead. In fact, it was In'ei who said,"I believe we are being watched..."About the same time that Ryou noticed it. He began to wonder and ponder... who it could possibly be. This person who was disturbing his thinking time spent under his mental Tumtum tree. Sighing to himself, the Shinigami knew that no risk could be taken as he slowly took his Zanpaktou onto his hand. He wasn't sure if it was sure what the being was... that had wandered into the 'Dark Puppeteer's land. The creature seemed weak or very good at concealing itself, so no way that he could possibly know. So turning around, his eyes began to pick up on the presence of another sound growing. Tears... Sadness... the feelings of a young girl hiding in darkness. The emotions made the one visible eye grow wide as he finally laid eyes on the sight of a small human spirit. The sound made the one visible eye grow wide as he recognized a sound so much like his defenseless sisters. In a way, it started to bring out his protective side too much."Calm down there silly boy" Was the silly voice of Ningy speaking into his mind. The more feminine part of the sword teased him saying, "Why don't we find our new friend? They might need some help."His only reply, "Perhaps." So he began to search around in the direction the noise came from. It was behind a couple of gravestones that the young man found a child Plus who was sitting there and crying over two graves. "Playing your respects Kyoko-chan?" It was the first time that the emotion in his voice didn't seem as impish, but genuinely curious. The small child looked up at the Shinigami, and there was an obvious sense that they knew each other. Ryou's fondness for protecting kids in a big brother manner was quite well known around Seireitei, as well as the districts of the Rukion where he took care of the poor kids. Especially in his former 40th district of the Rukion where he had lived, before moving to Seireitei to live as a Shinigami. The man was always treating a certain large group of the kids to better food from his personal salary. He also had a habit of trying to encourage them to become Shinigamis. It was for this reason that the 6th Division had at least 20 members who used to be kids back when Ryo first started doing it. So that was why he extended that towards the Pluses, and made sure to give them a little extra time and help to make sure they could pass over without any regrets. Tonight he remembered just so happen to be the time he and this spirit had agreed would be the best time to go. Before the young Plus could reply Ryo gently laughed, before affectionately ruffling the spirits hair, "So what do you think...." His words though were cut off at the last second as he sensed an attack, but in his relaxed state he had only moments to react as he pushed the young spirit to the ground. When she looked up at him she would see the Shinigami was stabbed through the shoulder by something... causing the young male to laugh in his manic way, "Oh dear... it looks like this could be a problem Kyoko-chan. Though I hope you're ok..." Ryo's pain tolerance was very very high, but it was something that caused him to write checks his body couldn't cash. So it was more of a mental numbness. It was obvious though that the attack had been meant for Kyoko... the 4th seat had protected her from it. The man even went so far as to not only not protect himself, but like a flash the little Plus was gone. The Shinigami having performed a Soul Burial on it to make sure it was sent to the afterlife before even daring to save himself. Though the hollow which had attacked the young Shinigami at this point had wrapped its sword arm in a manner where he couldn't attack because it wasn't done with its prize yet. The creature didn't mind the loss because it had a better prize than a simple Plus... he also would be able to kill and devour the Shinigami and gain even more power. The creature laughed softly as it said, "Well, I guess this is the end for you... little Shinigami." With those words, it's bladed arm fell to cut Ryo in half.</s> <|message|>Cyan Sung Sun "The appearance of the Hollow was interesting, to say the least," she says, recalling all the years of observation conducted. Very few corrupted souls had come within fifty feet of him, let alone deceased ones who flocked to him like their mother or father. How things worked like that was beyond her understanding. And now, because of one small child's soul barely worth the effort to hunt down, such a creature had come. Perhaps this was a chance to try out her new body, which Cyan Sung Sun had only recently acquired along with Mila Rose and Apacci. Previously, she had been an Adjuchas class Hollow with the body of a snake. Even today, she could remember how each muscle in that strong body would relax and contract, helping it move along the ground in long smooth motions. In comparison, her limbs almost felt weak and useless. How could she fight with them? After training, perhaps. But still, it was a disturbing thought. Harribel needed all three Arrancars to be in peak form. The time to confront Aizen was nearing, and where were they? Weak and in hiding, looking for someone to fight that very same man without being affected. Quite annoying, on more levels than one. Nonetheless, patience was a better word, but luckily she had a great deal of it. At least more than Apacci. Well, I guess this is the end for you... little Shinigami, she heard the words, forcing her to make a decision. She raised a sleeve, covering her mouth with an incomprehensible look in her eyes. She could just wait here, and see what he can do. It would bring valuable information to what they have already compiled, seeing as how only a highly-skilled warrior can face Aizen. Yet what if he lost? Then they would end up with nothing. The best course of action would be to jump into the potential battle and interfere, drawing the Hollow's attention upon herself. Again, there was that appeal of testing her abilities. It wasn't as though merely waiting around, not pushing herself to her limits was going to help matters any. Besides, the foolish man hadn't even brought his weapon out yet. Cyan Sung Sun made her choice, stepping out from the forest's shadows into the moonlight. The moonlight danced along her lithe form, the skirt of her dress whipping about in a rogue breeze. With a boom, she made herself known by appearing before the man in question. Already her right sleeve was glowing a dark pink from the charging of the attack to come. "I think your opponent will be me," she murmured in her quiet voice. The words were mature, despite how young she looked to be. Her eyes were intent on the creature as she said this. Once the attack had reached its peak, she raised her left sleeve and aimed. Hollow Flash! A powerful blast connected with its chest. Because of her strength and spiritual power, it had been also fast. The attack ate away at flesh and bone, making a sizeable hole feet above its hole right in the stomach. Seconds later, two sai-like weapons protruded from her sleeves in place where the charging and firing had been taking place. Another boom echoed alongside the Hollow's scream, and she phased into existence behind it. Two sharp points tore into the flesh at its neck, only raising its anger as it turned towards her. For now, she will only use her Zanpakuto as how it looks to others: a weapon. This Hollow didn't seem to be particularly strong. Right now, the creature was only angry and yelling. It reminded her of how her fellow Arrancars would argue back and forth endlessly. More often than not, she would be the one who had to act like the adult, ending it with a chiding remark of her own. After all, it did make them look rather weak since the two couldnt even seem to get along for more than five minutes. Banishing the thoughts from her mind, she brought her weapons back up to attention. Come, was all she said. Then she rushed forward, the weapons cutting into its chest, its legs, its elongated arms. Black blood gushed down its wounds, going down the length of its body. It wasn't long until most of its skin was glistening because of this. Every scream it released ripped through the air eerily. "That is it," she murmured. "I'm going to make this thing be quiet." Invoking one more Sonido, she was found to be in mid-air. Just as she started her descent towards the ground, she thrust her sai into the mask it wore. Massive cracks erupted. Splinters of said mask rained, and soon it was split in two.</s>

<|message|>Ryou Ryou stood there with an emotionless expression on his face, hiding the fact that he was surprised to have been caught off guard by a weaker hollow such as the one that now had him in its power. He realized very quickly though that it was not as weak as he had at first thought when he heard words flowing from the creature's lips. The young shinigami knew that for it to be talking, the hollow had to be at least an Adjuchas class being, which meant that if that was the case... then he was in trouble. Normally he probably could have defeated it, depending on how close it was to its next evolution cycle into a Vasto Lord, but with the injury that it had inflicted and the lock its tentacle had on his arm, the 4th seat knew the outcome was no longer a question. The young man could hear the voices of his sword screaming almost in harmony,"Ryou you fight and destroy that bastard. Don't let yourself die here. Please come back to us." Reaching up, the Shinigami grabbed onto the part of the blade that was sticking out his front with one hand, and tightened the grip on his sword with the other. Before he could utter the words to release his Shikai and try to block the hollow's attack, it happened. The blow never fell, and Ryou slowly turned his hair-covered face to the side to see who or what had saved him from an unpleasant demise. Just like the Adjuchas that held the Shinigami in place, the look in his face showed his complete surprise, but unlike the Adjuchas... Ryou had no idea who this person could possibly be. The large creature growled at them, "Get out of my way, little Arrancar. You have no right interfering with my meal." It even went so far as to try and strike at Sung Sun before suddenly finding itself being blasted with a Cero. Though the weak nature of the Cero was so fast that it almost bordered on being a Bala. The 4th found himself even more confused at this point as he asked his sword inwardly,"Do any of you ladies remember a class of hollow called Arrancars?"There was a reason that Ryou had been able to graduate from the academy in just three years instead of the usual six. A lot of which had to do with his willingness to work hard... and a complete lack of any social life. So the fact he did not know something about his enemy actually troubled the normally unshakable Ryo a little bit. Of course, as he usually did in these times, the man turned to In'ei for answers, but even she had none.Sorry sweetie... I am as in the dark as you are on this one.The Shinigami could only watch the newcomer to the fight with a suspicious eye. He slowly began to try and release his Shikai again, but suddenly the pain from being pulled off the sword arm hit him all at once. Making the young Shinigami grab the wound with his hand, though he did not let out any expression that he felt pain. Even the look in that one visible eye was still one of a curious creature who had a very angry monster lingering deep below. At this point, the fourth seat knew that he was well away from the reach of that hollow. It was no longer a threat to him at this moment, and from what he could see out of the corner of his eye, he guessed that whoever it was had probably been following him for awhile without him knowing. The timing seemed convenient. Ryou wondered exactly what it was he was dealing with. He waited until the dead hollow faded away before he took the time to ask, "Who exactly are you? Why are you helping me?" His words were full of curious and yet manic lunacy, but with a tone that sounded like Absolom the Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland. The fourth seat cackled a bit as he realized that it probably didn't matter, they were probably just going to kill him anyway. Since there was always the chance that he had just been taken out of the frying pan and put right into the fire. Sukai screamed at him in his head, "Escape, you dumbass! While the other two are busy, you can use the warren to escape. Besides, they don't seem that strong..."The Shinigami only knew their strength based on what they were showing, and he had to agree with his sword's assessment for the moment. He knew better than to underestimate his enemy, but he was sure that he could do it... plus it didn't take long for him to sense the reiatsu of the other to realize that she was indeed a Hollow. Despite her overwhelmingly human appearance. The young man knew at that point that he had to try and get away from her. The very thought made his damaged hand tremble with excitement as he spoke softly, "Ayatsuru In'ei no Ningytsukai(Manipulate Puppeteer of Shadow)." The words causing the blade to form around his hand, turning into the glove with blades on his finger tips, that made up his weapon. Then suddenly before the Arrancar in front could do anything, he reached over to the shadow of the next grave and ran his finger along it saying, "Maddo ningytsukai no u~ren (Warren of the Mad Puppeter)..." As Ryou cut, there seemed to be a portal that appeared, which looked like the ones the hollows used to travel from Hueco Mundo. The Shinigami half rolled and half jumped inside as suddenly as he had made it. Even if Sung Sun were to try and reach inside or follow, she would find that she couldn't. The portal only allowed travel for Ryo Kurosawa, either in or out. The Shinigami reappeared on a nearby building which overlooked the cemetery. Crawling out of a new hole in the shadow of the small wall that went around the outside of the roof. Leaning against this, he slumped down into a sitting position, as he held his hand over his wound. "Damn it, how am I going to get out of this." The male cursed as he looked and noticed something was floating in front of his eyes... it was his white Hell Butterfly. Poor thing was an albino and seemed to be a bit confused, but it was bigger than the normal hell butterfly, and plus it was Ryo's pet. The male contemplated sending the creature to go out and try and get some help, but he had a feeling the 'Arrancar' was much stronger than she appeared to be. So he didn't want his little friend to get cut down trying to escape, which was why he would be found just sitting there staring up at the moon with it on the opposite shoulder than his wound.</s>

<|description|>Amelise Tharem (Unamia 'The Death Bringer') Age: In her mortal form, she appears to be in her mid to-late 20s. Race: Elf/Dragon (Guardian) Inherited Abilities: Elf Form: Shadow Jumping Dragon Form: -Death Fog:Like all dragons, Unamia has a special breath ability. Unlike most dragons, however, who typically breathe fire, Unamia's breath is different. Death Fog is an ability given to Unamia by the God of the Abyss himself. A noxious fume flows from Unamia's jaws, coating yards of enemies in a sheen of fumes toxic enough to kill. -Banshee Cry: The Banshee Cry is a sound no one wants to hear. Although Unamia can direct it toward an enemy, the cry itself causes one's blood to run cold, and those in its path soon find themselves lost in madness. Acquired Abilities: -Shadow Warrior: Not quite foolish enough to go completely un-armed in mortal form, she does much prefer hand to hand close-quarters combat. While she cannot always overpower her opponent with brute force, she can typically use her speed and agility to out-maneuver them. Her weapons of choice, when armed, are a flexible enchanted staff and short dagger. -Spirit Perception: All of Unamia senses are heighted compared to those of normal mortals. She can see as clearly in the dark as on the brightest day, and hear the sound of a falling stone in the midst of a crowded market. -Spirit Consumption: Wandering spirits cover the earth now, and Unamia is able to tap in, or consume their essence. With every nearby death friend of enemy, she grows stronger, faster, and even heals rapidly in the midst of a battlefield. Appearance: Personality: Unlike most of her elders, Unamia does not have the patience or wisdom one would associate with living for millennia. She retains a rather youthful demeanor; good humor offset by her own pride, vanity, and quick temper. The resentment she once held for mortals has mostly faded, to be replaced with a sort of amusement; a similar regard most would have towards kittens or small children. Despite the restrictions to using her dragon form she enjoys her time on the mortal plane for its newness and constant change: She adores excitement in all forms and can even be optimistic when things don't go according to plan; granted something hasn't come about to raise her temper. History: Unamia is the second the carry the name 'Death Bringer'. The first was her own mother, Desrem who had the title for a very different reason. Desrem did Ral's purpose; she led the dead to the afterlife, but was killed in the early days of the great purge. Despite orders and many advising against it, the mere centuries old Unamia went on a rampage of vengeance in Darrodell. The destruction and havoc she caused play its own role in helping old king persuade the other kingdoms to join him in the purge, thus leading to more deaths of her kind; a great many of which where Ral's remaining guardians. An injury severe enough to force Unamia to sleep for several years saved her from the final purges. Upon wakening, Ral bestowed her mother's title on her and she became his chosen guardian until there came a time the dragon lords could return.</s> <|message|>Cedran Sterban Well they certainly were not alone. Apparently this little fire here had caused a bunch of people to run through here. There was the woman who was at the fire, who turned around to see a strong-looking man with a sword come barreling in looking for a bandit. After half-scaring her to death, trying to get away, the swordsman decided to laugh, sit down, and simply start eating like he had made the campfire himself. These humans were... Weird. He could never fully understand them, and half the time they made not the slightest bit of sense. The only thing that did make sense was the woman giving glances at him and Cedran himself. Hell, Cedran would be a bit worried if he was in that situation. A few paces behind him he heard the patter of what seemed like a horse... Or something rather smaller... But before he could process a mental image in his head, an elf seemed to pop out of seemingly nowhere. Well, at least, in the dark it seemed like it. Although Cedran usually didn't have much trouble seeing in the dark. The elf seemed a little less intimidating, but only slightly more rational as she offered food to the woman and told the swordsman to quit scaring the poor girl. Well great, he went from being all alone to seeing a spontaneous thanksgiving dinner erupt. And apparently he was invited, as the elf addressed him like she knew him and said to come over to the campfire. If only they knew... "Monster is somewhat subjective, elf. I would rather stay at a healthy distance. I can't promise I'm not a monster more than any of you can" Cedran said, reluctantly coming to just the edge of the light of the fire, lighting up his facial features. The bright eyes, wavy hair, light stubble of his face, all visible as his hood gently fell back. "It's quite funny how suddenly in a few moments, you all want to make a surprise feast in the middle of gods only know where we are. Except for her, hiding and ready to escape. The most sensible between you three." Cedran chuckled, looking completely lax, calm. "I'm not very threatened by any of you, and I've gotten somewhat bored and lonely on my trip. So I'll stay, but three conditions: I'm not taking part in your quaint little dinner here, I'm not a friend, and if any of you end up in a five foot radius of me... I can't guarantee limbs will be accounted for. Clear? Clear." And with that, Cedran sat up against a broken piece of ruins, yawning as he stretched and tried to get into a comfortable position. He undid his cloak, balling it up and putting it behind his back. Rocks weren't very comfy. Cedran's muscular physique showed, covered by only some light leather armor that only covered the vitals, and normal black pants. "Oh, and between the three of you, you should find the intelligence to not wake me if I'm asleep. Otherwise you're sure to regret the outcome."</s> <|message|>Denryr Cyr (Pronunciation: Den-rear Kur ("Kur" like the "cr" in crystal)) The winds whipped by Denryr's hair. Faster, faster, and faster still. Denryr made it a priority to make his journeys as fast as possible. Less time spent in the woods, the less risk he took of being attacked by an animal or someone else. His hooves dug into the ground, leaving behind a clear trail of where he's been. But it is of no concern; the only living creatures that could outpace him were other centaurs or the mighty and mythical dragons. Clop Clop Clop The Dragons. Denryr knew only what a dragon look like. He was told by an elderly elvan woman once as he rested. Larger than life lions, with scales of snakes and wings of hawks was exactly how she described them. She claimed not to know anything more, though Denryr didnt believe her. The elves were always a bit secretive around him. Whether it was because they thought themselves superior, or they deemed him too young to bear such knowledge, Denryr didn't care. He'd promise to serve the elves as his parents did before him, without question. Clop Clop Clop A flicker of light came into view, and Denryr stopped. He pulled out his spear and shield, ever cautious. He slowly approached, and found some ruins of a village he occasionally camped in. Currently it was occupied by a large party, some of whom seemed afraid of each other. Perhaps they simply stumbled upon each other. Denryr discounted that idea, considering the size of the party and the convenience of the location where they gathered. To him, they were clearly a party travelling together. He noticed a number of humans, what might be an elf, and in the back, a very short person riding a horse. The last person seemed to be trying to stay out of sight. Denryr did the same. Thud Thud Thud Denryr's heart was almost pounding. He'd never seen so many humans congregated, not in Blackwood. His mind raced through possibilities, his paranoia suddenly re-asserting itself. A scouting party perhaps? Were the humans going to invade Blackwood, trying to wipe out the last of the elves, druids and centaurs? No, Denryr told himself. Some seemed afraid of each other, indicating a lack of familiarity. Denryr tried to calm himself. Perhaps they were simply lost. A small travelling group of humans, lost in the Blackwood. That seemed the most likely explanation, given the circumstances. But humans were responsible for so much death and suffering. Denryr bitterly recalled the stories of the Purge his parents had told him, of how the humans nearly wiped out so many peaceful races. Denryr thought of slaughtering the lot of them, but decided against it, due to the numbers, and the fact there was an elf. Clop, Clop, Clop Denryr stepped out of the shadows, spear and shield at the ready just in case. "Welcome to Blackwood, Humans." Denryr said, saying humans as if it were derogatory. "I hope you enjoy your stay, as there's little chance of leaving." Denryr turned to and stepped towards the elf, bowing his head. "And what might you be doing among this band of barbarians, if i may ask?" It was an honest question - The centaur never knew an elf to commune with humans; they all held a great grudge against them for the purges.</s> <|message|>Kynna Brilene What's....happening? The thought entered her mind as she stared at the people around her. First, the man with the sword began to taunt her and take over her camp. Better that than being gutted, she supposed. She relaxed a little when he put the sword away, looking down at her feet. This was all too strange. Just a few moments ago, she'd been alone. Now, there were others. On top of that, they all seemed to come out of nowhere. It was just far too strange. Something else was going on here. She could....feel it. When the woman came out from behind the wall closest to her, she nearly screamed. But then her eyes actually took in the woman, and the green orbs widened. She was beautiful. The way the fire glanced over the woman's features caused her to momentarily forget the hidden man and completely miss the offered rabbit. When the man spoke though, she turned her head to look at him, briefly anyway. She looked back at the woman and noticed the rabbit in her hands. A quiet grunt of shock escaped her as she stared at the rabbit. She hesitated for a moment, before slowly taking the poor thing from the woman and holding it in her hands. The body was still warm, but there was no heart beat. It was dead. She couldn't stop the sadness that crossed her expression as she stared at the lifeless rabbit. No more than she could stop the tears that fell down her cheeks as she watched it. She knelt where she was, gently laying the rabbit down on the ground in front of her as if it were a cherished pet she'd had all her life. Without saying a word, she reached into her bag slowly. From it, she pulled the one thing she carried that she didn't need to survive. A small flute. She took a breath, her fingers lining themselves with the holes on the flute. The song that came from that flute was slow, soft, but filled with sadness. She didn't know why she was the way she was, but death, even the death of a rabbit, at the hands of people, made her weep. Perhaps she had just seen too much of it, somehow. It was in the midst of the song that the centaur appeared, though she didn't notice at first. She was so focused on the music for the poor beast that she didn't even notice the man. When at last she finished playing her song, she put her flute away and finally looked up. And that was when she noticed him. The man that had half his lower body as a horse. Her eyes widened again. Clutching the dead rabbit in her arms like she was trying to protect it, she inched closer to the only other woman there. She seemed the best one to be around at the moment, in case...whatever he was decided to attack. It was almost like a child hiding behind her mother. Almost.</s>

<|message|>Amelise Tharem (Unamia 'The Death Bringer') It was impossible to keep a glint out of her eyes at the demon's words, though she managed to resist the tugging urge to grin. Oh Unamia liked him. For now, at least, when he was ignorant and wouldn't demand anything of her. So she just nodded stiffly before turning to the other two "I carry no weapon but a knife, it is not meant to hurt you," The knife in question was now in her hand, hilt balanced on her open palm. But the girl wasn't listening to her. The rabbit, the only protein Unaima knew for fact the girl had the chance to eat in a least three days, was being coddled. Mourned. She was unsure whether to laugh of be angry with the girl when she pulled out a flute. But the music caught her by surprise. There was magic in it, not very powerful, but it was there, potency brought out by the forest itself, but at the core was this girl's own magic. Running then, from those who would fear it. The hand holding her knife quickly closed into a fist at the sound of hoof beats. Two directions, opposite, one set a great deal louder then the other. The flute continued it's mourning song for what was meant to be their dinner. She looked to where the demon lay, would he notice as well? Her grip loosened slightly when the centaur came into view, and the eerie music ended. Of course the girl chose to crouch behind her. Fierce barbarian indeed. Should have gotten to him before he ever entered the damn woods. She wouldn't move to shield the girl or give any signs of comfort, but she didn't push her away either. Instead attention went to the newcomer, or appeared to; half of her senses where sorting out the second rider who would have fallen silent had her hearing not picked up the thundering heartbeats of both rider and mount. "I take help where I can find it," She spoke slowly, doing her best to recall all she knew about centaurs. Most of course was from before the purge. She had nothing to offer that he desired besides respect. What use was coin in place like this? "Do you protect these lands? You would know the woods well." The knife remained in her fist, pressed against her tigh. Whatever tensions she had tried to ease before had sprung back with vengeance. The demon had made himself comfortable on the ground. "I would not choose to sleep here, I came across a bandit camp less that two leagues away." It was unlikely the bandits would be back, but there was fire and an increasing amount of voices among them, prime targets. Before he went in the forest she scolded herself again, and looked sideways to the girl who seemed to be getting smaller and younger with each new arrival. "That was meant as a gift for eating you know," it was meant to come out lightly, but exasperation managed to edge its way into her tone. "Will you let me clean it for you?" She offered her left hand to take the rabbit that was still being held tightly, dead as it was, as though it was a prized possession to a girl who may or may not be surrounded by killers and thieves.</s>

<|description|>An-Hasst Ahal Username: Fetzen Race/Species: Skayleigh Gender: Male Age: 77 Career/Class: Ranger, Craftsman. Weapons: * The main item in his possession that one could consider something purposefully designed to be a weapon is an armor-piercing crossbow that once has been acquired from a fallen Andred warrior, though not by himself. It is some sort of family heirloom - its heavy use in past times can be seen on it, but its very well-kept and fully functional. A matter of fact that acts for An-Hasst is that he can use it much more efficiently than its original owner, due to his strength, size and halfway elfish tradition. * A quiver of two types of bolts for his crossbow: The smaller fraction of them (10 pieces) is reinforced and up to very high quality standards. They have a chance to be reusable if one has the opportunity to collect them. The larger fraction (20 pieces) has been made by himself and consists of strong wood with tips made out of stone. They aren't as strong and usually shatter upon impact, but, given the proper environmental resources, can be replaced by him in the field. * A pair of short blades that actually are bayonets to be attached to the front of the crossbow. However, in an emergency, they can be used as improvised standalone weapons. Physical Description: An-Hasst's appearance can roughly be classified into two different arenas, one for each of the two very different heritages of him. His hair is moderately long, very dense, soft and of a golden color as it is quite typical for wood elves. He ties it together, forming a queue that runs down his back. His eyes are blue-gray and unremarkable, yet his almost pale-grayish skin seems to lack any stain of combat action of other, natural imperfections. Some people consider him very attractive because of that. His nose is large and pointy, his lips usually form a thin line across his face, more often than not a rather grim looking one. An-Hasst's ears are where one approaches the big other part of him as they are less pointed than they would have to be for a real elf. The word 'big' is to be taken literally here: He is easily towering above men and elves alike with a height of seven feet four inches (2.24m). His body is lean with major blood vessels deforming his skin where the run closely beneath it. What dramatically helps this effect is the fact that he has grown up with very thick, sturdy bones and a lot of muscular bulk across his entire body. Even with his half-elf origins, he still weighs about 340 pounds (155 kg), though estimates not considering this could be noticeably higher. His clothing departs from the woad elves' ways as he wears simplistic, gray-white wool clothing that doesn't cost much and with two parts that are held together only by a thin rope instead around his waist instead of a real girdle. It is not that uncommon to see him with bare feet, given that the road he's walking on isn't too dirty and in good condition. In other cases, he wraps his feet in leather. Armor: An-Hasst refuses wearing metal-based armor. However, being a woodcutter with a great knowledge about forests, he was able to come up with an alternate solution. He has stitched small-sized scales carved out of ironwood onto a large leather coat with an underlying lining of cloth to serve both as a protection against cold weather and against blunt weapons. The thing runs down almost to his feet and is long-sleeved. If one looks more closely, one can discover that some of the wooden scales feature additional decorations and that these are arranged in a pattern across the back part that forms a large sigil - a symbol of his family. The construction isn't as effective as a real steel armor and it isn't much lighter either, but it doesn't obstruct his movement as much and repairs can be done more easily without requiring a forge. Other equipment: * Money: 18 Silver, 5 Copper. * Mobile woodworking tools like a strong knife and a rather tiny axe. * Foodstuff for three to four days (probably more for smaller people). Mental Description/Personality: An-Hasst can probably be described best by saying that he is torn apart between the two realms he comes from: On one hand he demonstrates calmness for most of the time. On the other hand, when his mood really gets bad, the barrier around his elfish being breaks down and he transits into a much more rugged and violent attitude. This can happen rather suddenly and it requires knowing him for some time in order to see the indicators shadowing forth this transition. He more often than not apologizes afterwards, but havoc can already have been wreaked by then. It would not be the first time for him to get into trouble because of this and since he is easily recognizeable, one wouldn't be the first one to be more cautious about him. He is open-minded and tolerant by his wood-elfish nature, but the experience of constant, more or less subtle harassment and prejudices have made him at least wary and calculating as the people standing opposite of him. He speaks Northern common and the native Skayleigh language. The latter fact allows him to understand significant bits of both the Wood Elves' language and the Giants' tongue, though speaking it himself is more difficult and more or less broken. Goals: His family has the tradition of sending their children out onto a long voyage that, ideally, should take them across as large parts of the world as possible without diving too much into danger. It should serve as a way to broaden their knowledge, foster their ability to stand on their own and also learn something about possible enemies. There is no real time limit on it, the childs are free to come back whenever they think their journey is complete. It is clear that not coming back at all will cause unnecessary worries, and so far none in the familiy's line of ancestors is known to have pulled that off. However, An-Hasst is already known for taking the thing about 'too much danger' not too seriously... It happens that he is not only in Riverhope, but also willing on joining the party. Background/History: Today's Skayleigh are not born by a real giant mating a wood elf, or at least they normally aren't. They constitute their own nation with every member of it being half elf, half giant, and thereby being able to pass on the two different heritages fifty-fifty to their children even without a giant involved. The Ahal family is considered to be one of the more remarkable ones - not for being wealthy, but they were and are still earning their prestige with an outstanding tradition of woodcutting, making furnitures, bows and other things alike they are quite renowned for. Their numbers have declined over the past centuries, several of its members were killed in the ongoing struggle against Andred. An-Hasst currently is the second-youngest member of the bloodline, his parents being Karal (father) and Fafae (mother). He has been sent on his long journey about four years ago, and, as tradition dictates, his first destination were the far northern mountain ridges where the Skayleigh's real giant ancestors live. It wasn't exactly delightful, but making such an experience likely is the real idea behind it. Since going to Andred has not been an option for a long time, he then headed east towards the Praelior peninsula, leaving the Kaelic region. Then he went for the Priemieval Forest where the wood elves live, the other nation where half of their original ancestors stem from. One could think that someone who has travelled this far and even without major incident has to be very worldly and very experienced. An-Hasst isn't. The reason ? He would never tell his parents, but he is rather annoyed by this tradition of having to visit one more or less interesting, Skayleigh-antipathy infested part of the world after the other. That's why he is treating the entire thing more like a checklist with items on it one has to run through as efficiently as possible without looking too much to left or right. He speeded, only spending extended periods of time at locations he was really interested in like the giant's highlands of the far outskirts of the Dreadlands when he was a guest of the wood elves. He was clever enough not to venture any further into it than that though. Riverhope essentially is his oversized, sophisticated base camp for visiting what few civilized places there are accessible for men like him. He first had to replenish his supplies not only of food and water, but especially on gold, silver and copper. For this purpose, he picked up a job as a kind of doorman for a local tavern. It could be this job that theoretically could have got him the invitation since it made many people see him and his remarkable appearance. However he isn't in the job anymore as he has certainly overdone it with a particularly refractory drunk guy that got, well, let's say quite a beating.</s> <|message|>Alice Peerbane Cerranbridge At the rear of the group, Alice saw the spectacle last. A massive creature draped in swamp debris which towered at the height of two men swung it's mighty arms fruitlessly at it's hissing foe, it's swamp vines whipping ineffectually through the air and sending horrible swamp water everywhere. The opponent in question was a Lizardman who spat curses and challenges in the direction of the monster, something about dinner. Each movement from the two of them trunched up great tides of mud, soaking them and causing blood from the two figures to drip freely along their damp hides and into the green murk. They both probably smelt as bad as they looked, and from the tired stand-off they had they'd obviously been at this a while with no clear winner. "Aha!" Geradin, like any dwarf, was always quick with his hammer and started his comical high knee'd charge into the melee. "Our first foe!" The rest of the group was wisely hanging back, not knowing Lizardman ritual or (however strange the word seemed here) etiquette. The Dwarf cleric just didn't have the patience or sense as he splashed his way alone letting out his own Dwarven curses. Alice couldn't help but smile "Well, we needed to make friends with them anyway!" Though she wasn't sure any of this was the best way to do that. Alice started pulling energies into a missile spell, aware that although the Lizardman may be averse to the arcane and help from any source, she wouldn't leave Geradin out to dry. And she definitely wasn't going to fight it in close combat. "I don't know what you people are going to do, but I'll try and help." she said to the rest of the party. With that she let loose, and a great purple bolt streaked towards the creature, promptly getting lost in it's portable foliage. She readied another one, and looked for a better opening. @BCTheEntity @Fetzen @The ZAX</s> <|message|>Beren Rhys Sherwood Geradin let out a roar and pointed his hammer forward, invoking his God's favor to enchant his weapon with a bit of holy fire. A small light from the heavens poured down, invoking a small flame around his hammer's head. Both the monster and the Lizardman turned to regard the companions. Beren backed up a few steps, unstrapping his Axe and Staff from his hip and back, holding the Axe in his right hand and his staff in his left. The tanned Warrior Monk suddenly charged, and sprang off the end of the soft earth to fly over the swamp water. He flung his Axe, the Badlr head swinging end over end before it hit the shoulder of the bog monster. The creature gave a rough cry of annoyance and pain. Just as it did, Beren hit the water. The swamp murk rose nearly to his waist, and he still had his staff to use. He waded forward to engaged. Geradin was just behind him, doing his best to traverse the swamp that was up to his burly chest. Just as Beren had thrown his Axe and the action erupted, Calanon felt as if the consensus was aiding the Lizardman. He let fly his arrow, the missile slicing through the air to strike the beast on the cheek. It sank into the creature as if its flesh was halfway solid and halfway soft earth. It still felt pain from the way it screeched however, and it promptly turned to the companions, only to be hit by Alice's barrage and a bolt to the upper collar bone (or where one should be) by Ann-Hasst. "He'ssssss mine!" The Lizardman cried, moving swiftly through the water toward the Bog creature. It roared and swung its huge ape-ish limb toward Beren. The Warrior Monk barely ducked in time. Fated Fallen@BCTheEntity@Fetzen</s>

<|message|>An-Hasst Ahal An-Hasst heard Geradin's roar. Well... Could one ask for a stronger, less ambiguous indication that the fight against this beast was bein agreed to than this ? Probably not. The huge Skayleigh aimed with one eye and pulled the trigger. The sound of the crossbow's mechanism was much louder than that of the bolt travelling right into what, according to analogy, had to be the beast's clavicle. The half-elf briefly considered two very different options. The first one: reload. The second one: Grab the two bayonets and assist Beren as the warrior monk had decided to go melee. Judging the effectiveness of the first bolt was only one part of the equation. The other was if his comrade would be better off if he joined him in the swamp. However, after having looked at the two blades for the first time since their journey had begun, he decided that they were too short to be really effective against this beast. Additionally one couldn't be sure how solid the ground below the opaque water was. An-Hasst was well aware of the fact that he put a not-so-lithe man's weight down on each of his feet. The next bolt was nudged into the guiding depression along the crossbow's middle. It was one of higher quality, hopefully with considerably more penetration power. The Skayleigh aimed for the creature's breast. With it fighting both the lizardman and Beren, its head was a target he considered too difficult to hit from the distance. An-Hasst didn't see the 'defensive' role Sett started to play, otherwise he, by now, would maybe have turned into En-Rage(d).</s>

<|description|>The Roster The Name Justice Yellow claims to have come up with the name of Justice Hearts. (Shag came up with it in the interest check) The Hideout Alice's parents during their magical girl years allowed them to use one of their guest houses as their hideout. The Pet Judge Cinnamon is the group's pet, a bunny who has gotten tired of his job. Read Stern Algorithm's CS post to see it.</s> <|message|>Vivian Everett, 'Justice Verdant' Vivian Everett Finding themselves assailed by the press, Vivian soon found that she didn't have to do the talking as everyone else leapt in to deal with the reporters in their own unique way. Of course it was all definitely ended as a wall of earth rose up, forcing them to leap back or they'd get tossed like so many bowling pins. "Well I guess that settles that," Vivian remarked as she turned away from the hubbub. Her work here was basically done. Or at least she tried anyway, giving a tug only to find that Alice had a firm grip on her arm that didn't look like it was going to be released any time soon. Still, Alice had offered to buy dinner. Vivian wasn't the type to turn away a free meal and knowing Alice it would at least be a good restaurant. So she supposed that it was worth the hassle that shopping for furniture would end up being. "Alright," she conceded with a sigh. "Just don't blame me if it ends up all being tacky." She wasn't exactly a decoration guru.</s> <|message|>The Roster 'Star' Heart The reporters jumped back from the earth spikes, and after a quick look at eachother came to a singular conclusion: their lives were worth more than the news story. They refocused on the more amicable girls, no one noticing once Isana returned. Those who remained and were willing to talk gave similar stories, the honest one: they had no idea what was going on. Like Vivian, Emily remained quiet. Some of the reporters wanted to stay and ask questions, but for the most part they backed off to a distance as they recorded one of the news girls speaking: "Have they lost their edge? Hiding information? Either way, you heard them, folks. Our heroes, now older, have returned to save the city once again! Be sure to send any reports to the website W W W dot LIGHTYOURHEARTJUSTICEHEARTS dot Info as it is still up!" They seemed a little skeptical, but at least they seemed to be willing to forgive their want of privacy now - they had won a lot of good will with the city in general when they were younger. Looking over at Goldenrod, Emily frowned at the passed out body of her little sister. "Um, maybe it'll heal C-errr ... Justice Goldenrod? Magical Girl powers and stuff?" That probably wasn't a good answer, and if they went to a hospital it was very possible that their identities would be revealed. "... hey, JUSTICE HEARTS, we have an injured member ... ummm White Heart-" These names were ridiculous. "Is the lair still open for us? Could we talk together in there? Privately?" She hadn't heard Alice already making date plans, but with her own magical abilities she could make the entire group arrive quickly. "And Justice Yellow, please don't destroy their equipment unless they try to follow us." They didn't want the lairs location revealed, that much was certain. Isana was already transformed, but she'd find her own way. If Alice gave the confirmation, she'd wave her wand and she'd drag Goldenrod back to their prior home base.</s> <|message|>Alice Augustine/White Heart Alice Augustine Sofa Shopping --- Well, the reporters backed off, though by force more than her words. "Huh? Lair? I mean, yes. It should still be there. My parents have been too busy so they forgot about it. Thinking about it gave me episodes of depression so I stayed away... It'll be a little dusty." That was the part she sounded embarrassed about. Se figured Emily would take them all there, so she dragged Vivian over to the serial escapist, Isana, and took one arm and wrapped it around hers. "Is this what they mean by a flower in each hand?" She questioned before giggling. She couldn't let Isana run away like she knew the woman would. Alice's overarching goal was for everyone to be friends again... Perhaps... Perhaps this recent string of attacks was a sign? .... Maybe she should look into this a bit more. Discreetly. Not like she lacked the time to do so. "Anyhow, Emily, if we're going now would be the time since I have these two ruffians locked down!"</s> <|message|>Isana Sieger/Luminous Vale Isana Seiger NOPE --- Ah, it was cold. The Chinese food had been sitting too long. Isana frowned, pausing in her indulgence...before continuing to eat the Chinese. Oh well, it was still great. What to do now though? Alice wanted to go couch shopping and she was bringing Vivian along. Out of all of the other justice hearts that were still active, Vivian was at least tolerable on some level. They may have had a mildly shaky history with the girl, but Isana always at least, respected her attitude. Hmm...maybe she could convince Alice to buy them one of those really expensive and extremely comfortable ones if she went. Seemed like a good idea so she'd stick around and talk with Alice once they were done. And no, Courtney no one wanted to...well, okay, maybe she took a quick peek at the other justice hearts butt, but she quickly stopped looking as soon as Emily mentioned that place. Oh no. Before she could make a speedy escape, Alice was already next to her and had her firmly locked in place. "I'm not a ruffian," Isana flatly stated as she held the half-eaten container of chinese food in her hand. "And I have no desire to go to urgh, that place with those people."</s> <|message|>'The Grinning Gunner' Justice Goldenrod ~<3!; Courtney Cartwright Justice Goldenheart To the bottom of these situations! --- Truly for that brief moment Isana was a trooper, because who would really want to look at a bloodied buttocks that had a chunks of epidermis missing. Well of course there was the not injured right side of the buttocks, but even that had a bit of the transfer from it. As for how this might prove more of an issue now than it did before, who knew. It might've been the fact the impact was so strong and in the heat of battle it did not register. Perhaps it was as Emily suggested and magical girl powers were at play. But the bottom line was simple; generally being struck by a poisonous barb from a shadow monster was a negative effect. At no point did Courtney ever consider such a thing to be a good thing. Well there was one good thing at least, it appeared they could still crash at a guest house. Maybe Courtney could finally find one of those old trinkets she lost there that one time! Or maybe, the real pressing deal of course, she could figure out how much she needed to worry. Justice Goldenrod didn't have anything to add, at least in terms of speech, while she was grabbed by Emily.</s> <|message|>The Roster 'Star' Heart Some of their members were being held (partially against their will), some of them were passed out, and some had wounds of various seriousness - but as Star Heart waved her wand and the celestial path lit up on the ground it only was a short trip for them to arrive at the lair. As Emily opened the door it was difficult for her not to visibly cringe at their previously terrible taste. At least the place seemed to heal them, and the members of the team with wounds would find themselves recovering from the damage they had taken - their magical girl powers still seemed to feed off the adorableness surrounding them, buffing their ability to regenerate. Emily dropped a drunken Elise onto a couch with enough plushies on it to give every child in China one before turning to the still awake members of the group. "Alright ..." The fast food worker dispelled her costume and lowered herself down onto one of the couches, taking a deep breath ... if they'd be using this place again, they'd need some serious renovations. "... hello. Again." The adult spoke awkwardly, unsure how to say hello to many of the members after having avoided many of them for two decades. "I assume no one has any clue whats going on? No one summoned the monsters or anything, right?" The mother hoped this conversation would be done and over with quickly so she could get back home and take care of her daughter.</s> <|message|>Vivian Everett, 'Justice Verdant' Vivian Everett Alice's comment caused Vivian to roll her eyes as she was pulled along, Isana soon joining them in the iron grip of the rich magical girl as they were forcibly taken back to their lair. Not that she overly minded the place, she just didn't see a reason to go back there. She might also just have dim memories of what it was like, so her perspective was clouded. "Isn't this how we broke up the last time?" Vivian asked sarcastically in response to Alice's comment. She was pretty sure that that was indeed the case, or at the very least it was typical enough for Alice that she could confuse herself otherwise. As they headed towards the base, she shrugged. "I dunno, these attacks were too precise to be coincidental. It's worth talking about at least." It seemed like it might be someone attacking them, but who? There wasn't anyone around, or at the very least they would have heard of it by now Entering the base, Vivian went along wherever Alice dragged her, left without an option to do much else in this situation. "Which of us would even know how to do something like that?" Magical constructs were one thing, but actual monsters/ That was whole other matter. Besides, she was fairly confident that none of them hated the rest of the group quite that much</s> <|message|>'The Grinning Gunner' Justice Goldenrod ~<3!; Courtney Cartwright Courtney Cartwright And lo, by the sweet nature of childish wonder, did Justice Goldenrod feel the ailments of the ass alleviate at an astounding rate! With a smirk on her face the magical girl did bend a bit and smack her own posterior. "Aaaaaah....", spoke out Justice Goldenrod as she reached towards her glasses. "...Good as new!" Flicking her glasses up and down Justice Goldenrod reversed the transformation and returned into her civilian attire. Unfortunately the pants still needed to be mended as they did in fact still have the hole from the monster incident from earlier. But that wasn't the important thing right now. Striding over towards the hot chocolate machine, Courtney casually leaned against it before glancing among all the members. "Only time I summon monsters is when I have to substitute for a colleague in Vice." Raising a finger she began to point around towards all in the base. "That in mind, it's totes obvious what we, like, need to do. Sting operations and stake outs. Carefully watch 'em while we set out one of us as bait to attract, then if we can catch any sorta smarty one alive we can interrogate." Courtney clapped as she smiled from ear to ear. "Who wants to be bait?!"</s> <|message|>Carrie Martin Carrie teleported into the old lair, and immediately regretted her decision. Any interior decorator worth the name would have whipped up a bleach and cyanide cocktail at the sight. "Ugh. We really need to redo this place. Seriously, I need to keep my eyes closed or I'm gonna go blind." "If we don't know where the monsters are coming from, then we need to cover ground quickly. Our bait needs to be someone whose abilities make them mobile, but able to fight as well." A disturbing thought came to the blonde as she realized what she said. "Oh, fuck. I just volunteered myself, didn't I?"</s> <|message|>Isana Sieger/Luminous Vale Isana Seiger NOPE --- Isana was one of the ones being held against her will. Alice practically dragged her up to their 'lair' and she wasn't going to enjoy a second of it. Aside from the terrible decor, she had to be here with those people. Alice was alright, she could tolerate her...but everyone else? Here? No way in hell was she going to be spending any longer time than she needed to here. They were already talking about being all friendly and doing things, just like old times without so much of an inkling of actual respect. God, she hated these people, and she was going to make that quite blatantly obvious. "...well don't involve me. I could care less what happened to you fucks." Isana rather bluntly stated, wrenching her arm free from Alice's grip. Normally she wouldn't mind being the bait for something like this, at least in the past...but now, she just wanted to go home and get some sleep. "Tomorrow is my only off day and I don't fancy spending it 'monster hunting' or being bait for you guys." She reached into the pocket of her suit, pulling out her cellphone, quickly looking through her work schedule that she had saved. There was still that meeting her boss wanted to talk to her about the day after too...hmph. She was planning on taking it easy so she didn't get injured or caught up in something so she didn't miss it, and she didn't plan to acquiesce to any demands made by these guys.</s>

<|message|>The Roster Note: Was instructed to add something by Pyro to my post. He is at work. 'Star' Heart Alice smiled at the group maniacally as she looked around, making her own declaration. "Bwahahaha! It was me all along! Well. Not really." The mother couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the shenanigans as the group arranged plans and one of their members signled themselves out as bait, but as Isana criticized the group Emily cringed slightly. Earlier in her life she probably would have backed off, but she was an adult now. "Look, Isana. We know you hate us. There's a LOT of old bones here that have been dug out." Emily took a couple of steps closer. "And we know you are busy. Y'know what? I am to. I have a daughter to get home to. I'm sure the others have adult things to do as well." Perhaps much to the annoyance of the woman she was talking to, she accidentally adopted the same tone she spoke when lecturing her daughter. "But these events affect you as well, and possibly the entire city. So put on your fucking big girl panties and give us a hand, Vale." With a wave of her hand and feeling that her point had been made, Emily turned her head towards Carrie. "And do you have an idea of where the best location for that would be? Perhaps a time that works for our schedules? That'd be late night for most of us, yes?" It was rather apparent that Emily didn't want to be here either, but she recognized she couldn't just ignore an assassination attempt.</s>

<|description|>Mahendra Huq Zalil Mahendra Huq Zalil --- --- Character Summary Aliases: Ali, Mahi, Huq, Turban Age: 31 Birthday: June 8th, 1891 Ethnicity: Bengali Indian Birth Place: Kolkata, West Bengal, British Raj Residence: Shepheard's Hotel - room 2158 How Long In Cairo: Three weeks Gender: Male Major/Minor: Geology Occupation: Geologist. Formerly Lance Naik, Indian Army Languages: Bengali & English --- --- Appearance Height: 5ft 8 inches Weight: 147lbs Build: Average Eyes: Dark brown Hair: Coal black Skin Tone: Brown Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Scar across his left arm after being slashed by a sabre. Personal Style: After his time in Britain, Mahendra took a liking to more European style of fashion, though by no means has left the traditional styles from his homeland. He's like a cameleon, adapting and changing his attire in regard to his surroundings and company. As they say, "When in Rome, do as Romans do." When in the company of Europeans, he prefers decent suits, white shirts and polished shoes. All clean and ironed straight, he knows that diligence in appearance is highly valued. Same applies for hair and facial hair, which are finely trimmed and combed back in an orderly fashion. When in the company of natives like himself and like-minded people, or simply when to impress or show his heritage, you might find a slightly different man. One who wears more traditional clothing, like a Kurta worn over a louser shirt, wider pants and a turban, alongside sandals. His moustauche is then still finely trimmed, while his hair is neatly hidded undearneath the turban. --- --- Psychology Helpful * Stubborn * Polite * Judgemental * Brave * Superstitious Sexuality: Heterosexual Relationship Status: Married Personality: First impression matters a whole lot for Mahendra. To those who's left a good impression on the shorter man, he's a polite and generous man. He's usually seen wearing a friendly smile under than black moustache, nodding and giving friendly gestures to known friends and strangers alike. He's a man who firmly believes that there's good in all men, as long as they're ready to admit their wrong-doings and ask for forgiveness. And for those he cares for, he'll go far to help them in any way he can. Then there's the more conservative, traditional side of Mahendra, the one who shows his true self if left a bad impression. A firm believer in karma, he's under the impression that certain things happen for certain reasons, and that what befalls a man is justly deserved. Be rude or behave in a bad manner, and you'll find it difficult to be seen by Mahendra as anything else but a scoundrel, a baffoon or worse, destined to be reincarnated as a bug. Habits: * Scratching his moustache. * Kicking around rocks and dirt. * Running his fingers down the scar on his arm. Hobbies: Tea-drinking & walks outside of civilization. Fears: * Omens of uncertain death * Being reborn as something other than a man * Losing his wife Likes: * Showing his ancestry * Spicy food * Like-minded colonials * Classical music * Seeing new sights and places * Peace and quiet Dislikes: * Cold * Rude or brash behaviour * Prejudice * Jazz music * Cynics * Criminals --- --- Cards On The Table General World Skills: * Understanding of local Egyptian superstition * Geology * Natural geography * Excavation * Social cameleon * Bartering * Drawing * Animal-handling * Combat Skills: * Bolt-action rifle * Sabre fighting * Horse riding * Stamina * Whip What Is On Your Person: * Clothing - Black polished boots, dark blue pants and suit-jacket, white shirt, and dark red turban. * Wallet - 27£ 6p, passport (British Indian), geologist- and military-certificates, picture of his wife and child. * Notebook * Pencils * Pocket watch * Magnefying glass * Canteen * * * Residence: * Spare clothes * Geologist-kit; brushes, small shovels, microscope, small pick and chisel, etc. * Books on various geologic areas; Europe, Britain, India, Asia, Africa, Egypt * Sketch-book filled with various digs and finds * Meditation matt * Unwritten letters and envelopes * Suitcase * * * * This spot is for an animal only - Cat, Goat, Horse, Camel (Basic animal, nothing special about it. It may not even obey every command.) --- --- History What Brings You To Cairo: Work does, amongst other things. Seen as the interest for Egypt and the Land of the Pharoes are at it's peak, Mahendra hoped that he would be able to find a fair-paying job amongst the archelogical sights as a well-educated geologist. His thinking was that because many treasures are still waiting to be found underground, who else better to hire than someone who knows what the ground should or should not look like? But there's also a more personal reason, one to do with his time of service there back during the War. He misses not the killing or slaughter of innocent lives, but the times of friendship and excitement that accompanied it. So now he's there, trying to find both work and memories. Life Before You Moved To Cairo: Mahendra Huq Zalil was born into a lower-class family, and was raised in the middle of Kolkata, the heart and center of West-Bengal in the British Raj. His father was a travelling salesman, dragging Mahendra and his younger brothers around and outside the city on their trusted horse to do business. His mother was a maid for a prominent British family living in the more luxurious parts of Kolkata, who took care of the younger siblings back home. The only kind of education Mahendra recieved, was the little reading he was taught by his parents and the wife of the prominent family his mother worked for, while he learned some basic math from his father's business dealings. Other than that, Mahendra stood little out from the millions of other Indian children in the British Empire. And like so many others, he was married at the age of 16 to a younger girl, one he had never met. He would slowly start to care for her though, and come to accept that their marriage would be a fine one. This, alongside him working odd-jobs beside helping his father, was Mahendra's everyday life until he was 21 years old. The Great War; the War to end all wars, the War with many names. It was something else for Mahendra. It was the war to finally prove he was a true man, and the war to possibly give India the rights She deserved. The British generals welcomed the mass of voluenteers who wanted to serve, seeing the need for manpower and finding their pool in British India. Mahendra was assigned to the 11th Indian Divison and sent for training in Egypt. He was saw combat during the Actions of the Suez where he and his unit fought of the Ottoman forces attempting to seize the Canal. He was later transferred to the Indian Expeditionary Force D once his previous division was disbanded, now serving in Mesopotamia. It was fighting up the Tigris River than Mahendra's luck ran out; first he was severly injured in an Ottoman cavalry attack where he was badly cut in his arm. Then as he was recovering in a military hospital in Egypt, he recived the news from home; his father was dead, died of disease. With the war over, Mahendra was afraid of what kind of life he'd return in India, but for once fortune seemed to be at his side. The prominent British family his mother worked for found pity in the family's sorrow, and offered them help; they would pay for Mahendra's education anywhere in Britain to ensure that his family wouldn't end up in povetry after their death. This was how the short Indian ended up in Britain and was able to attend the University of Oxford, in the end gratuating with a degree in Geology. It wasn't easy, but he pulled through after long, tedious work. He then worked on several projects, both in Britain and India regarding both geological and archelogical digs, and in construction. Life Since You Moved To Cairo: It has been exciting to say the least, even if the lack of work is getting to him. Mahendra has spent much of time seeking work, specifically amongst the archelogical sights. So far no one has offered the Indian man a position, even a temporary one. So he's done his best to look bright at the situation, and thus watched the sights inside the city, as well as the beautiful view of the endless desert that stretches on forever outside of Cairo. And then it's the vision he has, the dream...An omen. --- --- Extras Character Quote: "Everything happens for a reason. It is best for us to take the hand we're dealt and do our best." Theme Song: The Cave - Mumford & Sons Anything Else: * Mahendra has a thick Indian accent, which some might find difficult to understand at times. * Sheshat * His wife, Myra, still lives in India. She's awaiting Mahendra's return after he's earned enough money to settle down. * Click me if you dare, you commie *By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy. I acknowledge that I can and will be removed from the RP without warning if I break a rule or cause problems with my fellow Rpers or the GM.</s> <|message|>Lauren Kara Ridgeway Lauren Ridgeway Location: Outside of Vera's Office. Skills: N/A --- --- Lauren looked towards Mahendra for a moment, she wasn't a superstitious person in general and believed facts. "Do you believe in ghosts as well?" Lauren asked jokingly, when she looked back towards Neema and gave the elderly woman a slight nod as she moved over to the next aisle. "I'm on it." Lauren said as she started to move over towards the next set of ladders, she was pretty used to climbing up ladders, when she worked at her father's bar for awhile. She was sometimes asked to climb up some ladders in the back and pull something down off of the shelves for use. "Just make sure I don't fall, and no looking up my skirt." Lauren said towards Mahendra jokingly as she started to climb up the ladder slowly, making sure that she took her time to. The last thing she wanted to do was to fall down, and either break her neck, or injure herself. Or even worse pulling something out, and falling down, and becoming someone like Haakon who was crushed under the weight of a crate.</s> <|message|>Priscilla Edgard Harker --- --- Priscilla Harker --- Location:The Museum Skills: None --- --- There was a distinct weirdness about this museum or more precisely about this situation she found herself in. Mosi thought about it as she waited for Akhmed and Josephine catch up to her so they can get going. There was a person who apparently ran out of the museum as they were arriving. At first the fact nothing appeared to be missing was weird, but given a tablet was now gone that explained it. More likely than not that person had snatched it. From here it narrowed the culprits to only those who knew of the tablet as a random thief wouldn't get all the way into the museum to that office only to randomly decide on that to steal. Thus it made sense they knew what they wanted which in turn meant they were aware of it's presence in the museum. Now the other question was if the murder had to do with the tablet disappearance and frankly she wasn't completely sure it was so. Her thinking was rather focused until she stopped Akhmed and the other woman show up.' He's got a girlfriend.' She giggled in her mind looking at the pair. Well that fact itself wasn't really unusual if it was so. A handsome man such as him, it was normal to have a beautiful woman at his side. Playing with her hair as she waited them to reach her she smiled, before looking in Akhmed's eyes." So, that's your girlfriend, sir Akhmed?" She asked with the widest grin on her face. Mosi felt really curious as of what faces they'd make at such direct question." Good eye, she's pretty."</s>

<|message|>Mahendra Huq Zalil Location: The Museum - The Archives Skills: None --- Mahendra could only philosophize on what the elder Neema was thinking about when she looked back and fourth from Lauren, the ladder, himself and the ladder once again. Had she, in the meantime between her arrival and their own entrance, found yet another crate that needed reqosition, or was it something more sinister? His mental questions were swiftly answered when she lay out her thoughts, and what she needed of the two younger lady and gentleman. Had it not already been a day worth a poem or an epic, he would not have expected it. And again it seemed that Lauren was taking the iniative, to which Mahendra could do nothing but offer a small smile of impressed surprise. "I keep my eyes on ladder and Neema, and you find those foot prints up there." Mahendra said somewhat jokingly to Lauren as he stepped forward and grabbing hold of the ladder in order to keep it stable. But his tone was only somewhat jokingly, as he found the prospect of...looking up one's skirt uncomfortable. He was a gentleman after all, or he tried to be. Hoping to wash off his own awkwardness, he continued to speak. "Want me to follow up the ladder, or are only one pair of eyes needed up there, Lauren?"</s>

<|description|>Marcus Bellamy --- SETTLEMENT: Fireflies AGE: 36 OCCUPATION: Current Mayor of Fireflies Settlement PERSONALITY: Pure alpha, dominant, even-tempered, mentally tough, and competitive, Marcus gleans with a genuine confidence that very few seem to have in this current age, especially among the younger generations. His rough exterior is balanced by a charismatic approach to others and generally friendly disposition. APPEARANCE: A man of above-average height, Marcus stands at six-foot-one, lean muscle, short dark hair with hints of graying along the sides, and facial hair which is usually kept short. A series of articulate tattoos of animals, mythos, and symbolic imagery cover most of his upper body and arms, something he'd taken years to acquire (even against his father's wishes) due to limited resources from settlement tattoo artists. He generally carries himself with confidence, tall and proud, coupled with a friendly smile towards others, he permeates with charisma and strength of character. FAMILY: His family is quite extensive, going back several generations, including his wife's family. No siblings on his side, however. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married FRIENDS: As the Mayor, he has many friends in both settlements, that even through all of turmoil after the accident at the dam, they remain loyal friends. HOBBIES: When not inundated with settlement and general economic business, he enjoys keeping healthy through physical training as well as self-defense, in which he and his wife both practice several times a week. BIOGRAPHY: Born and raised within the confines of the Fireflies settlement, Marcus couldn't wait to venture beyond the tall, thick walls, beyond the constant noise of the people, and explore the unknown. As a boy, he couldn't help but heed the call of the wild as the adventurous spirit was in his blood. Both his Grandfather and Uncle were hunters and trappers, leading various groups beyond the danger zones, paving the way for more opportunity for future endeavors, and mostly inspiring kids like Marcus, reminding them that there was more than just was within the settlements. But little did the boy care for the warning signs and the pushback received by his parents for even thinking about going into the wilds. Most of the flack came from his father, however, who had been the mayor of Fireflies for more years than he could remember, and the thought of his only child and heir trying to get himself killed made his stomach twist and turn. So much so, he was grounded until the "idiotic thoughts" left the boy's mind and were never spoken of again. Sure dad. Whatever. Less than two hours into his punishment, the boy escaped from his second story bedroom and, with a rucksack packed full of survival gear, rations, and a few small arms he'd acquired from the basement vault, Marcus took off into the night. He had enough knowledge of the settlement, guard posts, and their shift rotations, that slipping past them wasn't difficult. Once he'd cleared the walls, he ran in the only direction he'd known at the time. A place his Uncle told him stories about on numerous occasions, which was only known by a select few, including himself. An underground bunker that once acted as a fallout shelter decades ago, was now being used as temporary storage and refuge. Marcus just had to see it for himself, although, in retrospect, he wished he hadn't, as it was the beginning of the end. Before he'd even made it to his supposed destination, the boy was ambushed by what he could only assume were the vicious pirates known as "Roaches", and they weren't in the mood for negotiations. Regardless of the fact that he was only about thirteen at the time, still a child really, the pirates beat him, took his stuff and threw him into a makeshift cage that hung from a tall tree until they could decide what to do with him. Hours passed, and Marcus was certain he was going to die that night, but a crowd of voices from the distance, armed with firearms, blades, lanterns and torches, were gaining ground fast and attacked the small band of Roaches at their doorstep. Lead by the boy's Uncle, Cyrus, the rescue party laid waste to the encampment and managed to save the kid who was cold, scared, and hungry. When asked how they found him, Cyrus knew he'd head toward the bunker, and the pirates encampment was on the way. Unfortunately, just as they were making their way back to the settlement, sniper fire from hidden Roaches took out several of the party members, including Cyrus. A clean shot to the head, instantly ending his life. The survivors escaped the crossfire and returned to the safety of Fireflies, knowing the pirates wouldn't dare to venture any further. -------------------- Fast forward several years, and the boy was now a man, one who'd learned the dangers of compromise and going against the wishes of his father and family. He learned that severe actions mean equally, if not greater, consequences and years of hard manual labor around the settlement definitely humbled him as he became older. The beatings came, as his father didn't "spare the rod", and those bruises and welts resulted in a kid who grew to respect authority and the establishment. While his upbringing was tough to say the least, he shadowed his father in many things, especially how he ran things within the settlement. Something to which would be a boon in the future. For the most part, the people he'd met over the years loved him, even more so than his father who didn't seem to carry the same genuine care for the people as Marcus had. And was it any wonder that, on the eve of Marcus's twenty-ninth birthday, the people chose Marcus as their next mayor. However, while Marcus was grateful for the opportunity, it was a position he would have never asked for in a million years. Six years had passed since then, his father enjoying retirement, but remaining an active council to his son. Marcus fell in love and married his childhood sweetheart, however, his wife Mila was simply unable to conceive which became a somewhat point of contention for them and their families. But they both chose to move past it, especially because Marcus couldn't allow her to take the blame for something that could also be his fault as well. Either way, they resolved to move past it and face the challenges that lie ahead. The time after the "Dam Accident" had proved to be the worst, however, tension on both sides were high. Marcus knew this would be a very tough season to get through, but he also knew that if Fireflies and Water Leafs didn't work out the issues, that long-term survival would become increasingly more difficult...</s> <|message|>Dillan Wallace Dillan held back his smirk as Lee commented on Astor's smell and kept his frown as he glanced down to Astor as he entered the settlement. "Jesus you're right, he needs more than one shower," he muttered loud enough for just Lee to hear as he wrinkled his nose from a smell that lingered from Astor. He gave a nod as Astor waved to them and looked back out of the settlement with an expressionless look. Behind his sunglasses his eyes scanned the surrounding territory with an almost piercing gaze. He began to drum his fingers along his weapon and let his mind drift for a second. His recent memory of Emma's attempt at breakfast almost brought a small smile to his face. Her gesture was nice, almost lethal with the amount of salt she used, but none the less he appreciated it. Though before he could continue the amusing memory, a more worrying and upsetting one took over. Her worry for his safety and that almost fearful look in her eyes. She may be just a kid still, but she knew when danger is lingering. She's smart and tough for her age, but in the end she's just a kid. Soon his thoughts moved on to the threat that was completely possible. The Water Leafs. War between the two settlements was just a single shot away. As the thought of being attacked came to him Dillan ceased drumming along his weapon, not realizing that it had gradually gain a faster rhythm as he thought to himself. After a brief moment of silence Dillan leaned back in his seat and aimed his M14 towards the empty lands that surrounded the settlement. He slowly scanned the territory with the scope of his gun and spoke without looking to Lee. "When do you think we'll go to war with the Water Leafs?" he asked as he gave a quick glance to Lee before looking back down the scope of his weapon. "I give it a week, maybe even a few days," he said without looking at him, but as he finished speaking he realized that his statement came out of no where. He just brought the mood down without thinking. He mentally cursed himself, but stayed silent.</s> <|message|>Verelik Riddare Verelik watched Alyssa head off with her classmates. He sighed, turning back to Fay. "Thank you. I... hate that she has to grow up with the tension of the world at the moment." He looked back at Alyssa and slightly smiled with a hint of sadness. Verelik held his hands at his hips, suddenly realising he forgot his revolver, then shrugging. Then, not wanting to risk some disapproval for whatever reason, mainly due to his former Water Leafs background, he decided he should head back home. "Alright, well, I'm holding you back so I'll let you go. I'll come around to pick her up later." He looked back down at Fay. Alyssa had arrived with the others, and she scanned them all to find some familiar faces and perhaps a friend. She knew a few of them, such as Emma, though wasn't sure if she could call any of them a friend. She retreated to the outskirts of the chattering group, hands in pockets.</s> <|message|>FAY SONG The younger teacher nodded back up to the tall man. "See you later, Verelik." She turned on her heels, sighing before she walked towards the stone steps. The children had made their way inside, and were happily chatting in the classroom. Fay placed her bag on top of her desk, that was situated in the front of the class. Behind her a big blackboard adorned the wall. In top top right Profession Test: Monday 16 april was written in neat white chalk handwriting. The back walls of the class were filled with drawings and pictures. Mainly pictures of how the world was. The Eiffel Tower, once a great and tall structure, now a heap of metal. The Tower of Piza, now broken bricks on the ground. More pictures of a big bright red bridge Fay forgot the name of and buildings around the world. Sometimes, she would stare at the pictures and imagine herself being there. "Alright class, quiet down." The young teacher said, kind but with a hint of authority. "Bradley, turn around please." The young man turned towards the teacher with a grin still on his face, a result from the conversation he was having. Fay was the teacher to the 10 to 15 age group. This meant she actually taught from 10 to 14, as the 15 year olds start their traineeship at that age. She did however still teach and guide the trainees on saturday, in a trainee class. Fay Always wanted to teach this age group, since they're the most challenging. The young woman put her hands on her hips and looked into the classroom. "Bradley, Jones, Alyssa, Terry.." Fay called out the names of the 14 year olds in her class. "Today you'll be making the Profession Test. You'll find the questions of the test on the blackboard in classroom 03, miss Baker will be there to help you. Go on." She ushered the children out of the classroom. These tests were always very exciting. The children have to answer some questions, a lot of questions, and the results will show what profession in the settlement they're best suited for. The patted Alyssa on the back as she was the last to leave the class room, "Good luck!" she said to the small group before closing the door. Fay turned towards the class and started the day. --- Lee laughed heartily as Astor passed and the gates closed again. "See you then, Astor!" The guard sat back down again and kicked his feet up on an empty chair as Dillan took watch. He thought for a second after Dillan mentioned war. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. Surely, it wouldn't. Right? "Let's just.. hope it won't go that far." Lee's smile broke for a second, but it was back on his face a moment later. "I don't look that far into the future. Right now, I'm only looking out to lunch." Excuse any spelling mistakes, made this on my phone.</s>

<|message|>Marcus Bellamy Receiving cards and letters from various people of the settlement used to be something to look forward to, especially for one in the mayoral position. Marcus never quite admitted it, but he enjoyed the attention to a degree. But more so, he appreciated the love of the people, the joyous expressions on their faces, and the positive tone of each of the small notes that were quietly slipped under the front door of him home, or placed within the "in-box" at his office. It hadn't stopped at the letters though, as provisions from the various bakers and cooks were delivered as a thanks to him and his wife, and the breweries always saved a few specially-made bottles of their finest liquors. Well...as fine as it could be considering the resources they had to work with. All in all, one could say then that it was "Good to be King". But, as the days since the accident trudged on, and tension was thick enough to be cut with the sharpest of blades, the cards began to slow their pace until they stopped completely. Except for one… Marcus opened his front door to leave for the office as he did every morning, a single letter tied in a red ribbon was propped up within the large terracotta planter pot which sat near the left side of the entryway. The man cocked his head, perhaps not really expecting it as it had been almost two weeks since the last, but he managed to crack a smile nonetheless as he reached down to pluck the light-brown folded parchment from the shallow dirt. The front read "Mayor Bellamy", in a very ornate style of handwriting not seen very often, and there was a faint scent of jasmine permeating from the paper itself. He pulled one end of the red ribbon until the bow unfastened itself allowing Marcus to open the letter. Dear Mister Bellamy, You may not remember me since I was a small child when you helped my family. But my name is Abigail Williams and I am a citizen of the Water Leaf settlement, born and raised. I am writing to you because, contrary to what you may have heard or what you might think, our settlement needs your help. As you're well aware, the Fireflies and Water Leafs have been allied for generations, and because of what happened at the dam, our whole society (even over here!) is beginning to crumble and I'm afraid. I know I'm not the only one either, because again, contrary to what you might think, not every Water Leaf blames you for anything, or is upset with you. In fact, they want action. The problem, however, is that our Mayor has completely lost his focus on making sure that his people are taken care of and I think he's allowed the hatred for what had happened to his daughter to cloud his mind. I even hear whispers that he is out for blood! I am sorry that my letter isn't more comforting since you've been good to me and my family in the past, but I felt it was my obligation to bring this to your attention. I am concerned Mr Bellamy and I hope you can find a solution to all of this madness. Your friend, Abby Marcus looked up and surveyed the street for a moment, ensuring that he wasn't being watched by someone who may have known about the letter, before placing it into his coat pocket and heading off down the narrow road toward his office.</s>

<|description|>Motoyama Keita * Age: 17 * Gender: Male * Appearance: "Let's get this show on the road, I guess." * Personality: Keita's a bit eccentric as far as people go; he's always sharply dressed regardless of the situation, which occasionally makes him stand out in the middle of a crowd of normal high school students. This stands in contrast with his own organization, though, as whenever computers aren't involved, things tends to become cluttered rather easily. Regardless of that, though, he is confident in his abilities to handle whatever comes up... Preferably as a manager or strategist, though. So long as someone else can handle everything on the front-end, Keita's content handling everything from behind the scenes of from afar, even if his own desires inevitably end up with him sticking his head into that, too. It works out well enough most of the time, though, but it can get a bit aggravating to those working with him. He is not egotistical, though; while his pride may interfere with his actions on occasion, Keita will ultimately place finishing an assignment over anyone's spotlight (including his own). He is dead serious when it comes to work ethic, though; he'll pick up the slack if someone falls behind, but after a certain point he'll start ranting nonstop about a peson not doing their part. * Skills: Keita's a programmer at heart, so as long as he understands the language and whatever code he's looking at, he should be able to understand how it functions to some degree... Then possibly copy, change, or otherwise manipulate it as he wishes. He also has some experience working with figures and models (which stems from an older sister who loves working with them), but is usually better off working from reference rather than pure imagination. In other words, don't make him draw anything. Even his sketches suck. He can cook multiple styles of food quite well, though. Cool dad is cool. * Equipment: A watch, wallet, smartphone, and keys to his home. If the stuff in his backpack (as well as the backpack itself) counts, then that too. * Soul Arts: Con Anima: Keita gives form to an object within his imagination, which he is then able to control with a combination of magical puppet strings or pre-programmed commands. When he is in direct control, the resultant object is much more mobile and powerful than it would be otherwise. The object is limited in scale by his own abilities, though, and at most can only be about 1.5 cubic feet in size at the moment. If enough energy is funneled into an object, it can maintain form indefinitely; the problem is, though, that the consumption rate for that is rather inefficient at best. Once a certain threshold has been reached, though, the object no longer requires energy to exist in the physical sense. His slots are hidden on the back of his left wrist, right under his watch. * Brief Backstory: Keita was born into a family that was lucky enough to have a windfall of money; his mother was a high-ranking employee in a technology firm, while his father was a world-class chef based within Takezuma City. Even so, while they had no want for money, Keita's parents made sure to keep their children from being too complacent about life just because they had more than others. He and his sister still had to work towards their funds to keep their hobbies afloat, and they had to return results in order to keep that coming, whether that meant good marks in school, creating something in their spare time, doing well at events, or even the usual handling chores in and out of the home. That, in turn, instilled a strong work ethic within him, which led to a consistent desire by other people to work on projects... Which tends to backfire when he ends up making the slackers do more work than they would have otherwise. Because of said work ethic, though, Keita's life has been fairly active, which means he often goes around to talk and socialize more than one would expect. Some might say that his lifestyle is more befitting an upcoming actor, but Keita himself often denies those claims anyhow.</s> <|message|>Sasegawa Hikaru Sasegawa Hikaru, the Stalwart Lightning Detective of Yamamura Hikaru couldn't help but let out a sigh at that initial reaction. Try as she might, she couldn't really understand just why the girls at her high school suddenly latched onto her like that. It had become somewhat frustrating clearing her locker of love letters almost every day, and having to turn down several confessions didn't seem to dissuade them. Indeed, the mindset of these girls was perhaps a mystery that Hikaru would never solve. But then again, romance was hardly one of her main pursuits, so she didn't particularly care to understand the motivations behind it. Unless a romance pertained to a case she had taken on it was simply irrelevant. "Nevertheless, it's important I ensure that we have obtained all the facts, even if it means going over information that's previously been discussed," the short-haired detective explained. To be perfectly frank, Hikaru personally held doubts about the aptitude of some of the local detectives. At the very least, though, Soma-san was the respectable type who threw himself into his work. Some of the others, however... well, they could have missed some details in Hikaru's opinion. "To begin with, do you recall any strange behavior prior to the disappearance? Did your brother do anything out of the ordinary?" she asked. Even if there wasn't, it was important to establish the victim's whereabouts prior to the crime. If it was as Hikaru suspected, there would have been little to no change in the victim's habits. Beyond, perhaps, nervousness about the nature of Strange Gospel, but that was a trait shared by both victims and potential victims. Everyone who had used Strange Gospel, including Hikaru herself, was categorized in the latter. If worse came to worse, the detective even considered using herself as bait.</s> <|message|>Hotaru Ozawa Hotaru shuffled herself up, locking her hand around Haruko's arm and leveraging herself up, feeling as if the very fluids in her head were struggling to counter this, acting as gravity's aide. Never the less, Hotaru caught her balance once again. "Oh, yes, not far from here, but I was actually on my way to the Church" Church was probably a bit of an overstatement for the little building on the outskirts of the town. What once had served as a small roadside bar had been bought out by a catholic organization from one of the large cities in Japan, and converted into a church. It was small, but served the miniscule number of christians in the area, totaling to 7 people including Hotaru and her parents. The resident priest, a foreign Brazilian man of Japanese descent, usually did not stay long when it was not a sunday, returning to his home in a neighboring city quite quickly. Hotaru frowned when she realized how much time was spent in thought on the curb. "Well...I was planning to go anyway" she spoke solumnly. No point in biking out now. "Guess I've got nothing to do now"</s> <|message|>Umeda Maiko "Well that's just it, officer..." Maiko began with a heavy sigh. "...'strange behaviour' was entirely in character for Masato. See, he was the kind of person that liked to do things to, uh, 'prove he could', if you take my meaning. It was almost as if he enjoyed making our folks worry. For instance, he once went into some dodgy nightclub, took pictures of it and everything, and then told dad exactly what he did. My dad's a real stodgy type, you see, so he knew it would tick him off to learn he went to some nutty place like that. It didn't even faze him when he got chewed out and punished for it." Maiko had a hundred and one anecdotes she could tell about her brother, but she imagined the detective didn't want to hear them all. Besides, talking at length about Masato would probably make her get all depressed. "So yeah, he basically did things that would be considered weird like it was any old thing. He even kept checking that bloody app after the nuthouse content started showing up on it. He told me the images didn't bother him, and even claimed he'd seen worse. Not too sure about that though, considering what I'd heard. He was so sure they would fix it in a short while, like it was just some big prank that would blow over. Not long after, he up and vanished on us. You'd think it might help to know he went to strange places on a whim, but they checked around the city, and nobody saw him. Not one person. It's like he just vanished in the middle of the street somewhere. Poof! Gone in an instant!" She had gone over the events of the days surrounding his disappearance over and over in her own head. Even now, she couldn't think of a single thing that might actually explain where he went, or at least nothing they hadn't already looked into. Repeating it for the umpteenth time didn't help a lick. Taking a deep breath, Maiko decided to wrap up her spiel. "That's really all I can think to say. Anything else would be speculation, and if you want that, I can just hand you one of these papers. It's really good speculation in our papers though, I'd recommend it over anything else!" Even if Hikaru wasn't interested, Maiko felt obligated to make a pitch for Mainichi.</s> <|message|>Sasegawa Hikaru Sasegawa Hikaru, the Stalwart Lightning Detective of Yamamura Hikaru listened quietly as Maiko had given her explanation. Indeed, this had confirmed her suspicions at the very least. Nothing out of the ordinary(at least for Umeda Masato) had occurred leading up to his disappearance. Not a single change had occurred in the way that he behaved, he didn't even express any concern about the disturbing imagery that Strange Gospel began to display after its Apocrypha update. As a result, Hikaru could at the very least fully confirm there was no warning to what was about to occur, to threat. It made sense, in most cases one would expect that one of the victims would have attempted to tell their friends and family that someone was threatening them, or at least to begin behaving strangely. The suddenness indicated to Hikaru that it was abrupt and without any sort of warning. While this had been speculated upon, it was nice to gather another source of information that seemed to confirm it. Still, she had at least one another question to ask of the girl. "What are your experiences with Strange Gospel?" Hikaru asked, waving her hand to indicate her lack of interest in the newspaper. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before, and idle speculation, no matter how informed, was still idle speculation. The newspaper wouldn't be able to provide her anything new at the moment.</s> <|message|>Yamada Manami "The severity of your actions means little; an infraction is an infraction," Manami countered Keita's excuses with her usual sharp tone, never wavering in her resolute compliance with the rules. Granted, the rules didn't expressly forbid changing clothes after school, on school grounds, but more and more students seemed to be growing ignorant of the implied intent behind words these days. And it totally had nothing to do with Manami perhaps reading too much into text at times. The strict student had plenty more to say - most of it recycled from the trillion other discussion she'd had - but Keita's update on the app kept her silent for now. She listened intently, managing to more-or-less follow what he was talking about. Computing was not her forte, but she was hardly oblivious to the subject. As far as she could make out, at least, whatever the source of Strange Gospel was, the developer had not only managed to create many fake locations... but completely hide the true source, even to someone she could consider somewhat specialised in that field. Well, as much as a high-school student could be, maybe. Manami appeared to be lost in thought for a few moments, not immediately replying to Keita. This whole situation was pretty disturbing, and it was frustrating just how little she could do. Doing whatever she could was a noble enough idea, but her possible actions were just so limited! ...Well, she could at least make sure no sstudent was left alone after school. "...I suppose I am done," Manami eventually replied, glancing at the school gates, "given your refusal to adopt proper, healthy sleeping habits, I suppose I should escort you home, lest you fall asleep at the nearest bench."</s> <|message|>Maki Haruko — Convenience Store — She nodded and released her classmate. "I see. I was just on my way home after my club meeting." Haruko turned and found the door to the convenience store with her cane. "I was going to buy some bread here but haven't really planned past that." She felt out the location of the furthest aisle and then paused. "I usually get the clerk to help, but since you're here would you mind? I was looking for the bread."</s>

<|message|>Motoyama Keita "Hey, you know just as well as anyone else in this school that we've loooong since abandoned healthy sleeping habits cramming for tests or working on assignments or projects or whatever else they throw at us. If you threw the book at people for nodding off, we'd probably have to get caffeine through an IV or something to dodge punishment, y'know?" Keita responded in kind, walking alongside Manami with bags still casually slung over his shoulder. "Actually, rather than head home straight away, I was thinking about grabbing some ingredients at the supermarket near my place. Wanna tag along? Though, uh... I guess the stuff they'd be selling around now wouldn't be the quality I'd like in a dish. Gotta get to the produce early to get the best vegetables and all that..." The young man let out a somewhat disheartened sigh before closing his eyes and silently calculating a few things in his head before nodding. "Yeah. That'll do. Maybe." "By the way, I gotta ask: you ever checked out my dad's place? I know it's a bit on the pricy side and all that, but the stuff he makes is totally worth the cost. No stupidly small serving sizes, either, since he hates that kinda stuff," he mentioned offhandedly before hastily tacking on another comment at the end. "Totally not trying to get more customers or anything for him, though, y'know? But, uh... I think all this 'Strange Gospel' stuff is causing a few of the regulars to not come as often. Man, everything ends up connecting back to that damn app. The sooner this mess is handled, the sooner we can get back to our daily lives." With his cheeks now tinged a faint shade of red, Keita turned away from Manami in slight embarrassment before shaking his head and refocusing his thoughts. Awkward as that plug may have been, it was totally worth a shot. Maybe she could go with her parents or something. Every customer on the list was a good one, and though he himself knew little about the restaurant business, he could tell that not having customers was never a good thing.</s>

<|description|>Nikolay Andreevich Ivushkin Appearance: He stands at 5ft 9 ¼ inches tall and weighs 73 kilograms. Age: 18 Nationality: Russian Noble Arm Name & Appearance: Imperial Fists - A pair of floating hands made of stark white stone. They glow a ghostly green whenever they are in use. Noble Arm Rank: B Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Ranged/Retaliation/Close to Long Range Noble Arm Abilities: Consecration: Nikolay is able to command the Fists to his whim. Thus, he can use them for manipulating/holding objects and directly attacking assailants. Retribution: The Fists are capable of absorbing and emitting energy from attacks directed against their wielder. They have an upper limit of absorption of up to the power of a hand grenade, though this is not known at this time. The Fists emit the energy that they receive in the following ways: - Kinetic: Concussive Blasts/Increased Punching Force - Fire: Fireballs/Firestreams - Magic: Energy beams - Radiation: Focused rays - Electricity: Tesla bolts Retribution is not without its faults. The Fists are tied directly to the user's state of mind; as such, losing focus or even just mere hesitation can cause them to stop whatever they are doing. They will also crack if they take in too much power, forcing them to return to the pocket dimension to regenerate. Mobotone: The Fists switch to a red color and emit all stored energy. In return, they are able to fire beams of magic energy with a lengthy cooldown, though each shot has a high damage potential. Monotone can also switch to a rapid fire mode that rapidly shoots magic bullets, though this is ineffective against armored or shielded targets. Misc Abilities: Pretenseful Voice: He is able to switch accents at will, allowing him to present himself as an American, Englishman, or a Scotsman. High Level Intelligence: He excels in most subjects, though he detests mathematics. Personality: Nikolay Andreevich is a rather literal minded boy, as he often fails to comprehend idioms and metaphorical remarks. He usually takes words at face value, and as a result, is often the last person to understand a joke. Despite this, however, he is quite intelligent and persevering, spending more time on books and writing than anything else. When out in the world, he is rather socially awkward and often speaks in sentence fragments. However, when in private with his close circle of friends, he can be seen as boisterous, insane even. He is quite affectionate towards his friends, and there has never been a time when he forgot anyone's birthday. Nikolay also does NOT like going solo, and prefers to do things together. *Likes: Cats, Pizzas, the French, and hugs (and kisses). *Dislikes: Communism, broccoli, mayonnaise, and most politicians. Fears: Being abandoned. Bio: Nikolay Andreevich Ivushkin was born in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, the provincial capital of the Sakhalin Oblast in the Russian Far East north of Japan. He was the elder of two siblings, as he was older than his sister by three years. One look at his family immediately betrays the terrible kind of early life that he had in Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk; his father, Pavel, was a massive alcoholic, a prime specimen of a casualty of Russia's crippling problem of alcoholism that has afflicted the nation ever since the Soviet Union fell. There were times when his father didn't return for days, and when he did, all he would do was sleep, and then demand more money from Nikolay's mother to satiate his addiction to vodka. While all of this was going on, Nikolay found refuge and companionship in the Internet, where it seemed that strangers from across the planet had far more compassion and understanding than his own alcohol addled father. In his spare time in between school and home, he would go out to the fields of Sakhalin, immersing himself in the tranquility of the wilds beyond civilization. This continued until Nikolay was 16, when his mother, Katya, had enough, and moved along with her son and daughter to her parents in Vladivostok, leaving Pavel in Sakhalin to waste away. However, upon arrival in Vladivostok, they were robbed almost immediately as a thief snatched Katya's purse. It was at this time that Nikolay finally managed his Noble Arm as two hands of pure white rushed out of a portal and dragged the thief back towards them. Word quickly got out, and his mother was elated to see that her son was indeed one of the gifted. Russia's own Noble Arm Universities called, but Trinidad University was closer to Vladivostok and thus was the first to send an invite. Nikolay looked upon a mother brimming with pride and a sister that will miss him very much, and swore to do his best as a student in Trinidad... *Current Goal: Attain the best version of himself. Student Rank: 47</s> <|message|>Jordan Quinn Jordan Quinn The long haired Canadian came jogging down from the dorms. Book bag slung over his shoulder, in time to see Henry and Oscar, Oscar being held on Henry's shoulder. He blinks and laughs, "Okay that's a sight to see!" He grins and hurries to get to class. Waving to Nikolay as he passes with a grin, "Morning!" He shouts as he jogs on. "Gotta get to class before the Prof. gets there!" He slid around a corner and then slid a few feet into the class, waving his hands to the side and shouted, "Safe!" Chuckling to himself and looking around, spotting Jeimseu and Pablo, at it again. Henry and Oscar having beat him there and just behind him Nikolay, "Alright...I'm not the last one!" He then makes for his seat. Just another day right? He hoped so outside of what ever the staff had planned with that visit. He looks around the room, not at all sure what to expect in the coming hours of the day. But this here, is a good start to it.</s> <|message|>Fredrick Jones --- Fredrick Jones --- Fredrick is sitting in the teacher lounge doing some final prep work for class. The printer was being used up all day by the chemistry teacher. A little annoying but it's fine. Once he got done printing out his handouts for today he played with Emily a little bit "Aren't you the cutest cat in the world?" as he pet her. About five minutes until class he started he grabbed his papers and Emily and began to walk to class, waving goodbye to the other teachers. He took his time getting there. Frankly, it was more fun if he saw how the class progressed if he wasn't there. It always seemed like students go out of their way to cause mischief when the teacher isn't around. As he entered he got exactly what he was expecting a little mischief here and there. Fredrick began setting up for the day, watching them to make sure it didn't go too far. Speak up about the blatant Homophobia? Or the amount of PDA Jeimseu and Pablo is showing? Oh Kasumi breaking them up, that's good. As he went back to setting up, he listened in to what they were saying and the elitism she gave off was enough to make Fredrick eyes roll. Well at least it broke up without me having to get involved. Then Vane started looking for a fight with Kim. Oh for fuck sake please hold yourself back Vane. Oh he is now teasing Kasumi. You know what I'm fine with this, better than them fighting in here. Fredrick was thankful Nikolay tried to talk down Kim peacefully was a nice change of pace, refreshing actually. He gets the laser pointer today, looking at Nikolay. Alright, enough fooling around, it's time to start class. Fredrick gores and taps his knuckles on the whiteboard to start gathering attention, "Alright everyone get to your seats so we can start." Fredrick looked at Jeimseu, "Also new rule, laps may only be considered seats if you are doing a partner project." Honestly Fredrick only cared because he believed that it would be to distracting for them to do that all class. Fredrick gave the students a minute to get settled then he walked to Nikolay placing the laser pointer on his desk "You get to use this to play with Emily today." with that he walked back to his desk and stretched a little. It felt like so much just happened in a few minutes. "So today Filipino senator Aquino and Senator Gutoc will be coming to the academy, so please be on your best behaviour for them. And with that I think we can start the class. Where we last left off we were discussing…" Frederick continued his lecture for the entire class period, only having 3 minutes before the bell. Completely forgetting to hand out the homework he dismisses the class a little early as he rushes off to get some water preparing for the next class. @BigPapaBelial@Th3King0fChaos@Not Fungus@Letter Bee@The Man Emperor</s> <|message|>Oscar Helgrem --- Oscar --- As Oscar sat and watched the room waiting for the class to begin he noticed that Mr. Jones had already made it to class. As he seemed to have snuck in at some point when Oscar was trying to take in everything. Mr. Jones seemed stunned as he watched the class go on as it did. With him noticing the whole exchange of near fist throwing, Mr. Jones looked like he was getting near upsetting as then it quickly deescalated and calmed down. As Mr. Jones seemed to collect himself as he started to get the class together as Oscar looked around and watched people sit down and take their places. As Mr. Jones took notice of the lap sitting happening from the two love birds over there, and had made a rule for…only partner projects? 'Well at least he seemed like a very chill man'. As Mr. Jones was continuing to speak, Oscar was looking around as he noticed…! EMILY! She was heading towards him as Mr. Jones was busy with getting on with the class. Oscar started petting Emily as he was waiting for announcements to be over, starting to rub the back of her ear, every cat loves this and Emily seemed to be no exception. As when Emily heard the clutter of the laser pointer hitting a desk, she started heading off to it, taking his heart with her. As Oscar started pulling his head back up and started focusing on the class, first came the announcements of the senators. Oscar found it interesting to tell everybody of the senators arrival. After all, most schools in America didn't give a shit if the student body knew of their presence, just the people who were pertinent for their visit. So Oscar was very concerned, almost as if the Director was trying to make a showing of their work. Almost as if trying to show off, and that idea doesn't sit well with Oscar. But he has no time to think about that, the lecture is about to begin, and Oscar needs to make sure he does well. After all, his Noble Arm isn't going to gain him any higher marks to rank up, so he has to make sure his studies are the best thay can be. ============ After Class ============ Oscar had taken very well made notes, using his many skills he learned from his high school time, "Man Cornell Notes are really useful. Now I can transcribe it into Filipino". With his normal smile Oscar started to head out of the class with his notes, as when he passed by Emily, he realizes he has no self control with her. As he kneels down and starts to pet Emily and scratch her ear he sees she plops and lays down on her side for Oscar. A gasp escapes Oscar's lips as he slightly coos as he begins to scratch her belly, side, and right at the base of her tail. As his large smile ceases to end as he petted her for literal minutes, until his attention is pulled away as he feels his cell phone begin to ring. As he slipped it out as it was an alarm he set for himself. As it is telling him to text the others and see if they want to meet for lunch. As Oscar knew what he had to do, he leaned fully down and gave Emily a kiss on her head as he stood up to send a text to both Henry and Jordan: --- Group Chat Name: Sword of Hope Group Chat made [Henry D.] Invited [Jordan Q.] Invited [Oscar H.] Changed Name of Group to: Sword of Hope [Oscar H.] Changed color of Group Name to: Sword of Hope [Oscar H.] Changed Name to: [Trunks] [Trunks] Changed Color to: [Trunks] Hey guys, I was wondering if y'all would like to meet up and talk shop about our mission on protecting the senators. I'll be off to the gym, I think Oli would be fine with us being in there to talk about this. I can't wait to get started! --- As Oscar Chuckled as he set up the group chat with them, he started jogging off to the gym as he felt his bladder slosh. He stopped in his tracks as he started to take a fast walk to the nearest bathroom to piss. As he almost pissed his pants as he didn't notice his bladder this entire time. @dragonpiece</s>

<|message|>Nikolay Andreevich Ivushkin As always, Nikolay had taken a lot of notes, applying just about every color in the rainbow when it came to his highlights on important words and terminology out of all the things that the teacher had taught. He usually wrote his notes in his native Russian Cyrillic, translating his thoughts from English to his mother tongue before jotting them down. He did this on purpose; these were, after all, his personal notes, and he wasn't at all the type that let others copied from his work, as it was his firm belief that everyone should learn independence when it came to studying properly. There weren't a lot of other Russians in the school anyway, and it wasn't like he would actively let them copy either. Nikolay licked his lips as he looked upon the food that was being served to him in the cafeteria. He wasn't sure what this was called, but it has been the stuff that he has been buying for the last few days that he has been here. It was probably called zinikang... or something. It was much better when rice is added, too. He bowed to the lady over the counter in an attempt to give his thanks... only for him to remember that this was the Philippines, not China or Korea. The small minority of Koreans in Sakhalin were the only Asians that he had interacted for most of his life, so he kind of assumed that they were all similar... only they weren't at all. Embarassed, he simply managed to say 'salamat po' (thank you), though with a heavily accented tone. He need more practice... Nikolay proceeded to look for people that he already knew; those he already considered to be somewhat familiar or amicable to him in this school of magical warriors. Thankfully, he found Jiem and Pablo. Together as always... "Eyo, privet.", Nikolay said to the two. "Do you mind having a third wheel?"</s>

<|description|>Peter Parker Superhero identity: Spiderman Age: 16 Brief History: Raised by his Uncle Ben and Aunt May, Peter was never a popular child, expressing a love for academics and a disdain for sport. Often bullied, he never had the strength or the means to defend himself. That was until one fateful class trip to OsCorp, where, at the age of fifteen, he was bitten by a genetically modified spider. Upon recovering from the bite, he discovered that he had inherited its abilities, deciding to use them to kickstart his short career as a professional wrestler, using what money he earnt to help boost his popularity. It didn't take long for him to receive a hard dose of reality, coming home to find his uncle lying dead, his distraught aunt relaying all that had happened to a police detective. Overhearing a police radio give the murderer's location, Peter stormed out of the house, pulling on his wrestling suit. The NYPD found Uncle Ben's killer bound by rope in an abandoned warehouse, a note resting on his unconscious form: 'From your friendly neighbourhood, Spiderman.' And thus, the Amazing Spiderman was born.</s> <|message|>Remy Etienne LeBeau Remy thanked the waitress as she came with his new drink, 14 year old scotch. He sniffed the drink, taking in the smokey aroma. Before he put the glass to his mouth and in a satisfied smile, he downed half the drink. "Another sucker looking to play away dere money?" He asked, and as he heard the soft thud of the woman sitting down on the seat next to him, he smiled "Or a girl lookin' for some fun." He peered over, and when he saw the red hair and the green eyes, he had a soft smile on his lips. "Hello Remy. You look bored." She spoke, her Boston accent ever so present. It was endearing, truly. "And you look like trouble, Red." Remy said, watching her cut the deck in half. "You came back from de dead just to play me in poker? 'Am honored, truly." Remy said, watching her drink the gin and tonic by her side. One of the most powerful mutants in the universe come back to life, and sitting at the same poker table as him in the middle of nowhere? Well, it wasn't very likely, but nothing really surprised him anymore.</s> <|message|>Matt Murdock Other the past three hours Matt had been taken on quite the adventure, although he was initially reluctant about leaving New York to hop around the galaxy with a space-man who wore way too much cologne, a talking duck and a man in a Captain America costume who he could tell by the heartbeat, definitely wasn't the Captain America he knew from day to day life, Matt had now grown rather fond of the change of pace from alternating between fighting the Kingpin and mourning whichever friend of his had died most recently, perhaps this was the vacation he needed. Matt now found himself in a Nightclub looking for the next of his menagerie of comrades. The music disorientated Matt's radar sense and the entire place reeked of alcohol, everyone thought Matt didn't like clubs because he was just too nerdy, but it was in fact that they were completely overloading. Matt could feel the throbbing bass of the music shaking through his head, however that wasn't the bass at all, it was a heartbeat, the mighty heartbeat of Hercules sounded like a war-drum to Murdoch who stood stock still overwhelmed in the middle of the dancefloor in costume, looking like some sort of BDSM fetishist. It took Matt a moment to realize the others had left, but when he snapped out of his trance he ran out after them clutching his head. "This isn't the first time I've ended up with a headache after a night out at a club."</s> <|message|>Jean Grey It was hard to explain this kind of joy, even to herself in order to gain perspective. As a telepath, Jean knew some things went far deeper than words would ever touch. Emotions moved people just as profoundly as gravity, and could brighten or darken them even more than a weather pattern. There was a rapture in it; getting to spend an hour with a friend so old and so dear that she could have laughed and teased and enjoyed Remy all night. How many nights had they spent within their group, doing just that? Countless. How many battles had they fought together, trudging onto the Blackbird dirty and bloody and half-beaten, but victorious? Countless more. But therein lied the rub: being around him, she thought of the others. The were the X-Men. They were a group. Remy had always been indepdendent than many of them, but even he had finally succumbed to the pull of that close-knit family. Maybe Remy would never have that again, maybe he would, but Jean had seen her possibile futures: and precious few of them included her ever rejoining that group, that family. She thought of Hank, of Ororo, of Kitty, Bobby, Charles, Scott, Logan--even some of the kids like Jubilee and Julian. Quite frankly, it was a miserable thought, never getting to have those people and that joy in her life again. That this, here and now, might be as close as she ever came to it. "You messin' with my head 'gain, Red?" Jean smiled sweetly. "I've never needed my powers to do that, Cajun." His brows furrowed, his lips muttering something under his breath, black and red eyes narrowing at the cards in his right hand once more, his left clanking clay poker chips against each other in a stack that was starting to get desperately small. A small labored sigh, an even smaller shrug, and the Cajun tossed three black chips into the already sizeable pot huddled in the center of the worn green felt of the bar's backroom. "Raise you one-fitty. So dis Death...she go poof, and you jus' come on back? Dat easy?" "Well, I'm not sure I'd call death easy." That seemed to pique the Cajun's interest. "Why? Cold 'n lonely, Chere? Remy warm you up," he said, with that smug gambler's grin of his. Jean gave him a bemused glance, before returning her eyes to her cards and putting some effort into appearing conflicted with her call; hesitating to answer him as if considering the math between her hand, the possible hand she may draw from the last card to drop on the table, and whether it was worth matching his aggressive bet. Only after a half minute did she quickly reach out, take up three black chips of her own, and toss them into the pot. "Oh, it's not the dying that's so bad, Remy, it's the coming back. Nothingness is sweet, life is harsh." The Cajun snorted gently. "Not as harsh as dis hand." Jean tried not to smirk as Gambit calculated his own options; or more probably, knowing Remy, argued between his gut instinct and his better sense. "Any day, now, Remy. We have people headed for us." Red eyes glanced up at her once more, no trace of that grin left. "...what you mean?" "The 'Death go poof' was part of a greater cosmic chain of events--" "--ain't it always?" Jean continued, despite her chuckle. "There's a group of heroes gathering to do something about it. You and I are on the invite list." The Gambit tsked his all-too casual disapproval, before reaching over to the deck, 'burning' a card, and flipping over the next onto the table face-up. Queen of Hearts. "...you do dis to me t'punish me." Jean tried not to smile at his frown. A mostly successful attempt, as she put down her two cards, making a Royal Straight between the two cards and the community cards on the table. He had a pair of Jacks, she saw, as he tossed down his hand in mild frustration, before taking a long drink of his drink. "Aah, dere, now what if I dun feel up to dis cosmic mission?" Her green eyes laughed at him, silently. "Please, coming from the hero that moonlights as a thief, I know you can't pass up something this dangerous." "I moonlight as a hero, Red," when he was done scoffing, he was left only with her long look. The grin came back to his lips almost instantly, as they were interrupted, the room having cleared out an hour ago when their private game started--Jean made certain of that. When the door opened, Jean didn't bother looking up, though Remy threw a quick glance over his shoulder, already having been snuck up on once today. "Heeey, Mr. Gambit-dude..." "Mista?" More insulted than surprised, Gambit looked back to Jean, who snickered, before returning his eyes to the guy in the red jacket. "Who dis guy? Han Yolo?" The blonde man hid both his confusion, and then when he realized what the Cajun had said, his slight offense. "No, man, I'm...Star Lord." This time, Jean and Remy said it at the same time. "Who?" Before he could do much than grunt frustration, Jean Grey was standing, feeling having gotten to the start of her third gin and tonic. "We're screwing with you." "...I'm not, who dis guy?" "Star Lord, man. St-ar, L-ord." Jean interjected. "He's the recruiter." That prompted Remy to turn just-so in his chair, so he could get a better look at this 'Star Lord' from over his shoulder. "Nice jacket." "Oh, yeah, thanks. You too, bro. Don't see to many people rockin' the trench these days. Who's she?" This time, it was Jean with the gambler's grin. "Jean Grey, otherwise known as Mar--" "HOLY SHIT YOU'RE THE PHOENIX. Don't dust me." Remy stirred from his seat, stretching to full height, eyeing Star Lord. "Talk about dis coat one more time, and she might." "Remy!" The Cajun smiled, innocent as a thief in the shadows. "What?"</s>

<|message|>Peter Parker The sweet, tangy sensation of mayonnaise. That soft, spicy undercurrent of sweet chilli sauce. The smoky deliciousness of grilled chicken, mixed with the juicy freshness of tomato and lettuce. And the cheese. Oh god, the cheese. Peter Parker had never gotten lucky, but that was okay. This kebab was so much better. Sitting on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge, he savoured each bite as he cast his gaze over the borough they called Queens. He liked it well enough. It was, after all, where he lived. The trees were nice. The air was nice. The people were nice, most of the time. But there was just something about it that he couldn't put his finger on, something that hurt the very essence of his soul… Oh, yeah. The buildings. He couldn't swing on them. They were too damn short. The kebab vendor was its only redeeming quality. "Hey, kid!" yelled some guy from below, standing on the sidewalk. Peter, halfway through another mouthful, said, "Hmm?" "Get off my roof!" Peter chewed. He chewed some more. Then he swallowed. "Hey, no way, man. Finders keepers. I got here first." He took another bite. "Wow, this kebab tastes good." "But that's my roof!" whined Some Guy, "My apartment's roof!" Chew. Chew. Swallow. "Nice." "So get off!" "Hey, listen, guy," he paused to wipe some sauce from his mouth, "I'm just trying to eat here." "Yeah, well, you better not get any on-- " "--Your roof, yeah I get it. Now please, I'm almost done. Can't you just learn to share?" "If you don't get off on the count of five, I'm calling the cops!" "Now sir," Peter said, shuffling on his behind away from the roof's edge, "That really won't be necessary." Out of Some Guy's view, he removed his backpack, extracting from it its contents. Suit: check. Mask: check. Web shooters: check. "Because," he continued, hurriedly putting said items on, "I," he stood up, in full view of the street below, "Have taken care of it." "Spiderman!" exclaimed Some Guy in surprise. "That's right. Have a cookie." "You got that kid off the roof?" "Yup. You're welcome." "So, uh… how about you get off it, too?" "They don't do this to Captain America…" muttered Spidey, dejected. Half-eaten kebab in one hand, backpack in the other, he leapt to the neighbouring roof, turning to address Some Guy for one last time. "You happy?" "Yes," said Some Guy, "Thank you." A smile on his face, he entered his building, not bothering to grace Peter with anything other than the bird. None of this would have happened if I was on the Avengers… thought he, lifting his mask to take yet another bite of his delicious chow.</s>

<|description|>Grikgar (Grik) Seeker Rank (If applicable): Unggoy Ultra Species: Unggoy Appearance: Grikgar Grik stands 5'8" a little taller than the average Unggoy and weighs 275 lbs. he has a bit more muscle mass packed onto him than others. Wearing the typical white combat harness with the unusual forked tank signifying his rise through the ranks of special operations. Normally he will always be wearing his helmet as it does have a built in speaker so others can hear him better. Skills: Given his advanced training, Grik is an Explosives and Artillery Expert both with human and covenant ordnance but prefers covenant. He even has an exceptional understanding with disarming explosives and is a great linguist. Being able to understand all of the covenant languages as well as speak most. Even going as far to learn a few human languages and Huragok sign language. Aside from that Grik is a natural born climber and is adept at repairing most equipment. Preferred Weapons/Equipment: Main Weapon - T-58 LAAW, Fuel Rod Cannon Secondary Weapons - Dual T-54D DEP, Plasma Pistol's Back Up weapon - ODST Combat Knife Primary Explosives - 4x Type-1 Antipersonnel grenade, Plasma Grenade Secondary Explosives - 4x Covenant Plasma Charge. Equipment - Unggoy Ultra Combat Harness with helmet, Active Camouflage, Light Personal Shield (Experimental). Background: Grikgar was picked up at a young age and put straight into military service. Born on high charity in 2545 he almost immediately was put in a leadership position due to him not fleeing from combat during training like many others of his kind. This trait was picked up on by the Sangheili that were training his batch of hatching's. Because of his unwillingness to flee and being rather fascinated with all things that went Boom, he was given additional training. Unggoy don't have last names or at least didn't in the covenant, instead he took the last name from the ship he was tasked out to, Seeker. The Seeker of Truth or just "the Seeker" is a CAS-class assault carrier and flagship for the Fleet of Particular Justice. To him it was an honorable position one he took great pride in. he soon found himself in multiple conflicts through multiple worlds in their purge of the humans. Showing again and again how well he could use his skills as an effective Unggoy leader verses small groups of armed humans military or otherwise. With a rather high success rate and low mortality rate for his squads he was yet again promoted and given more training. Grik would use what free time he had to talk and learn from the other races that would listen to him, even going as far as learning human languages to better understand their music he enjoyed so much. Soon he found himself receiving training to join up with the special operations Unggoy only a few months before the Fleet would hit their next target, Reach. The battle for Reach was long and bloody the casualty rate for his squad was rather high giving him the chance for promotions. In return he was able to show his superiors his ability with the fuel rod cannon and the explosives training he received to great effect. Being able to take out emplacements and fortified structures with well-placed shots and explosives with little oversight or orders to do so. Showing once again his fearlessness and proficiency with artillery weapons. After the battle of reach and his continued service aboard "The Seeker" led him to the most glorious moment of his short life. The ability to gaze upon instillation 04. He didn't see much combat wise during that fight, his team always seemed to be sent to retrieve something but never really engaged in combat other than against the sentinels of the ring. His team was still on "The Seeker of Truth" when the ship master ordered the retreat from the ring and subsequently survived the destruction of the ring, only hearing rumors of monsters and demons from the badly shaken crew members that returned. Grikgar returned with the ship to High Charity and his team was ultimately transferred to "The Reverence" a CPV-class heavy destroyer. The Unggoy participated in many smaller strike missions aboard the destroyer. Then everything began to change, political upheaval and a civil war that spanned the entire covenant. After that some of the Sangheili that he had fought alongside in many battles had been killed, he joined alongside them to fight with them. After the end of the war Grikgar was tired, he was almost ten years old now. Most Unggoy would barely make it past their 5th birthday. Still, it would seem that his dedication and loyalty would pay off in the end. The new hierarchy of the swords of Sanghelios hand picked him among only a handful of other Unggoy to receive the rank of Ultra with one Unggoy by the name of Stolt given the rank of Ranger and put in command of Sangheili Rangers. Grikgar is unsure why he was given this rank and why he was eventually sent to a human / covenant team. Politics was never his strong suit, he's just doing what he is told.</s> <|message|>Tar 'Mdalak Tar growled threateningly, leaning over the table towards Ethat. Both of her hands rested back in the divots she'd created; the stanchions screeched in complaint. When she spoke, her voice wasn't raised anymore, but soft and laced with poison. "Then your warriors had best remember to stay in line - behind me." Tar pushed off from the table and stalked out of the briefing room along with the rest of Aegis team. The last thing she wanted was a lecture from Spartan Ryker, and she made that abundantly clear through her body language, though no doubt the Human wouldn't pick it up. "Don't concern yourself with my welfare, Ryker." She growled. Martialling all her discipline, Tar tried to make the best of the Spartan's obvious investment in this operation by sharing what really puzzled her: "I know my brother. This treachery was always in his heart, but Uztel wouldn't readily plunder our world. Something doesn't smell right - I need to talk to him, before I kill him." A pair of facility orderlies pressed their backs firmly against the wall to let them pass. "Can I count on you, Ryker? It has to be me who confronts him - if I fall, don't let ONI take him. Brissekh will fall apart without blood continuity. It's the only thing holding us together."</s> <|message|>Vael 'Virisusai Hekar Taa-pattern Blockade Runner Magnificent Defiance, low-Earth orbit --- Given that they would be leaving that day, Aegis team were encouraged quickly into the pelican, though once they were aboard the Blockade Runner, they would be able to do as they saw fit until they arrived at Brissekh. Covenant slipspace drives were far superior to the traditional Human Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engines. Journeys that, before the reverse-engineering of Forerunner slipspace technology, took Humans months, the Covenant could complete in minutes to hours. Brissekh was not too far outside Human territory, so it would only take a few hours to reach their destination. They would likely be waiting longer than that for the rest of the fleet to be ready to start the diversion. Although a corvette by Sangheili standards, the Blockade Runner in orbit, Magnificent Defiance, was even larger than the Autumn-class heavy cruiser they had used during their first mission. As the loading ramp of the pelican opened, they were greeted with a curious mixture of UNSC and Swords personnel and equipment. Sangheili and Unggoy crewmen coordinated with Human marines to organize the vehicles and equipment that were being delivered by a constant stream of cargo pelicans. Obviously, the ship did not have proper storage facilities for Human equipment, not to mention differing organizational conventions between their two militaries, so there were no doubt no shortage of logistical issues for the two groups to iron out. Fortunately, that particular task did not fall to Aegis team. Before leaving the pelican, Ethat sent each member of the team a map of the ship highlighting relevant areas. Quarters, mess hall, training rooms, and likely most relevant, the armory with their equipment. Given that they would not be staying on the ship long before the start of the mission, they would not likely need to stray far if they did not wish to.</s> <|message|>Johnathan Philip Flint (Goes by J.P. or Flint) Flint --- Flint got word that he was going to be joining Aegis Team about seven days prior to being needed on the blockade runner Magnificent Defiance. Needless to say he was in a whirlwind trying to pack everything and get flights lined up so he didn't miss the bird out there. Once he was on the pelican headed to the Corvette he finally took a moment to relax. The pelican they ended up throwing him on was outfitted to be carrying strictly cargo, all except for the one seat bolted to the wall he can only assume was reinstalled just prior to take off for none other than himself. Everything else in the bay was inside some sort of packaging or was covered so he couldn't get a good look at what all he was surrounded by, not that it really mattered, it just would have helped him pass the time if he had something to look at and ponder about. Post flight Flint walked out of the pelican with all his gear in tow. He could already tell he would be enjoying his new position. He was literally standing in a fully operational covenant corvette. His hands itched to start tearing it apart and figuring out what made it tick, but of course, that wasn't what he was here for. He reported in to the receiving officer, a freshly commissioned lieutenant who seemed to still be learning his position. Flint waited patiently as the Lt. figured out where he would be staying. Eventually he was given directions to some personal quarters and shown where the armory was so that he could drop off his things. He landed only a few hours ahead of the team so he didn't have much free time once he stowed all his belongings, be it in the armory or his temporary personal quarters. He was notified to report to the hanger that Aegis Teams pelican would be landing in any minute now. Flint headed to the bay in his uniform trousers and a combat top, M6S strapped to his leg. By the time be reached the hangar he could already see the pelican on approach, he picked up his pace to a light jog as the hanger crew guided the pilots and set the bird down. Flint started rounding the back end of the pelican just as the rear hatch disengaged and started to lower.</s> <|message|>Lucas Ryker Spartan Lucas Ryker Throughout all of Tar's speaking, Lucas didn't interrupt or reply, instead opting to let the Sangheili female get it all off her chest. However, when she asked for his word to keep ONI's claws off of her home, he nodded. "Stopping ONI from doing something? You can bet I'm all for doing so, without hesitation." --- The transition to the blockade runner was done without much celebration or pomp and circumstance, which fit the SPARTAN-IV just fine as under the radar is the best way for their team to operate. As he walked off the pelican, not noting the person approaching from one side and the front of the pelican, he started to ponder how the others would handle working underneath Commander Vael'Virisusai. In the interim since now and their last mission as Aegis, Ryker had worked almost exclusively under the Sangheili warrior. And while he had plenty of prior experience working primarily with the members of the Sangheili race, working directly under one had been both different and educational. So long as everyone could follow orders and do their part, he didn't imagine there would be many issues. However, as he headed for the armory to check on his weapons and make sure it was all up to par and clean, he couldn't help but wonder how well the human members of the team who hadn't worked under Sangheili before would take it.</s> <|message|>Vael 'Virisusai Vael 'Virisusai --- Being aboard the Blockade Runner once again brought Vael back to familiar territory. Time spent among Humans was often spent in cramped quarters among suspicious and unusual people, so being back on a Sangheili vessel was something of a relief. Granted, Blockade Runners were somewhat uncomfortable even among Sangheili. The scented air and constant subsonic sounds of the vessel were not present on the Covenant vessels most Sangheili had been accustomed to serving on. There were still vessels from the Covenant among their fleet, but as they could not be replaced, more traditional Sangheili designs had come to the forefront the longer this war lasted. They tended to have less refined efficiency, relying more on sheer power in weapons, propulsion, and other systems. A lack of safeties meant that ships such as this could be pushed beyond the limits of Covenant vessels, but for less experienced crews, that made catastrophic failures more likely. Stepping out of the pelican, Vael did notice a Human standing nearby, seemingly waiting for them. Ethat had already handled directing them to necessary locations around the ship, though it was possible that the Humans had some matter of importance for them. The UNSC was also contributing soldiers, vehicles, and equipment to this mission. Out of Aegis team, Vael was the first to approach the Human. He was small, even by their kind's standards: a fact that became all the more prominent as Vael towered over him. "You have something to say, Human?" He asked.</s>

<|message|>Grikgar (Grik) Seeker Grikgar /Grik/ Seeker // Unggoy Ultra // Demolitions and Artillery // Location: Sangheili Corvette The sea food was just as good the last time he was here and again the Unggoy almost got their group kicked out due to his voracious appetite and messy table manners. Honestly he knew he did get a little excited, this particular human food was his favorite but due to its tendency to spoil easily he did not find it very often on other worlds or stations. It seemed they got pulled away just in time to their meeting, he was sure that the next time he arrived here there would be a sign for no Unggoy. The meeting was rather standard, go in after covenant, loosen their foot hold, and turn the populace against them. The specifics where a little different but it was standard for what he was used too. Grik knew he would have to tread lightly on this one as one of the team was directly involved with it. The Sangheili pilot they picked up on the first mission they had. She was resourceful as were all the team members but this one also had a youthful energy about her that was honestly refreshing. These where all Grik's observations as he hadn't talked to her too much before he had to leave. The Unggoy could only wonder how this mission would be interesting compared to his many other missions. His mind drifted back to his time on his home planet and the vehicle he brought from there. This kept him quiet on the pelican trip up to their blockade runner. A sleek but powerful corvette new and unusual ship types where not unaccustomed to him as he was born on a ship. The human presence on it was staggering. This time they really would have better support than the last one. Grik stepped off the pelican behind Vael and looked at the human before them. Looking to Ryker as he headed off into the ship for a moment then again back to the human. He wasn't a Spartan or an ODST, those humans had more of a presence about them, and he didn't have the weird look of an ONI agent. Was this one a messenger perhaps or a human with a grudge? Grikgar knew the humans had that feeling in the back of their minds that came out when they were indulging in alcohol or drugs. The Ultra stood quietly by Vael curious to see what he had to say before he would go off to check on his new toy in the vehicle bay.</s>

<|description|>Chelsea Cranel Character Sheet: Age: 17 Gender: Female Race: Human Weapon Name: Ring des Johannes Weapon Type: Arsenal/Summoning Weapon Range: depending on the summoned weapon Weapon Transformations: * Version 1: "Sieg" a bow with infinite arrows which form when the user starts to aim or prepares to fire. * Version 2: "Krieg" a swift Sword and an indestructable Shield. The user gains a higher endurance. * Version 3: "Hunger" a Greatsword (as shown below). The higher the danger the user is in, the greater its damage, vice versa when the danger is low. * Version 4: "Tod" a Scythe which can cut through almost anything. Note: The ring can also summon single spirits or all four of them, but it takes a lot of energy from the user Sieg The spirit of Conquest is represented as a Crown Prince with a great talent for Strategy, Tactic and fighting. Krieg The spirit of War is represented as a Noble Veteran Knight. His great strength and endurance is only beaten by his loyality. Hunger The spirit of Famine is represented as a knight as well. She is one of the most dangerous amongst the four, right after death. She has great strength, agility and most of all, an unappeasable hunger for battle. Tod The spirit of Death is the most vicious amongst the four. He fills the battlefield with black dust to take something important from his prey, their ability to see him coming when he strikes. He loves to bring panic to his enemies and strikes without warning. Although he is so powerful, Chelsea tries not to summon him because he is unpredictable and has a huge destructive power. Personality: loves lollipops, rest TBR Long ago four spirits appeared symbolizing Conquest, War, Famine and Death. Wherever they appeared all they left behind was destruction and death. Until one hero managed to defeat the spirits and seal them away in a ring. This ring allowed the user to borrow the powers of the spirits and even summon them. When summoned the spirits are forced to follow the orders of their master. The user can also speak with the Spirits through their thoughts and vice versa. While it is a powerful weapon it is also a huge burden for the keeper. Chelsea is the next one in her families line of keepers. She trained hard and long in order to be a worthy keeper. Hoping that she could maybe use this immense power to change the world and make it better, she decided to apply at beacon. It would be both a training for her to be worthy the title of a keeper as well as maybe being able to become a hero herself just like her ancestors. Semblance: Shapeshifting Emblem: The same like the ribbon on her headphones Additional Appearance: Height 157 cm (5'2")</s> <|message|>Weston Kaiser West was rather disinterested in the presentation given earlier. He took in the names of the teachers and their respective specialties. They were impressive, but West planned on being better than all of them. He hoped he would get a team that was skilled as well, or at least worked hard. He clapped with the rest out of the respect he had for the teachers. He left with the rest of the students after the assembly, weaving his way through the masses. As it emptied into the hall, the masses dispersed and it became easier to move. He decided to head to the cafeteria and wait for this party. There were a lot of interesting students going to and fro. Some looked quite a bit stronger than others. Ponderings about what his team would be like raced through his head. Soon food was being served and West helped himself. More students were beginning to pour into the cafeteria. He began to wonder what this night in the ballroom would be like as well.</s> <|message|>Shirako Grey "There is... but one hope...~" "To band all together...~" "To free all... from..." The dark-haired cyborg sighs. "Lyric writing is incredibly difficult. I wish I was good at it so I could become a vocalist." She pauses. "Though if I wish to do that, modifications on my tone would be required... Perhaps learning more about personalities would also help." Shirako sighs as she attempts to lower or raise her voice's pitch with a series of 'A's, however nothing could change the indifferent monotone. Defeated, she opens her eyes and stares out at the open school ground before her from the roof. She had been relaxing for quite some time now, and was pretty much OK to go back inside. "Perhaps limiting my social interactions would better my recovery time for the moment." She ponders aloud as she stands, quickly wrapping the chain around yet another pole that stood tall on the roof. "However, father did say that practicing emotion was the 'next step' to advancing myself. Finding who I am is top priority." And then... she jumps... Thankfully, Shirako wasn't hurt at all in her descent due to her use of her weapons, though it might be a worrying sight for anyone who witnessed it. Though, the fact she was simply dusting herself off was reassuring. "Perhaps I should locate the cafeteria. I believe it was this way..." And so, Shirako began her journey to the cafeteria... starting by going in the wrong direction...</s> <|message|>Alice Naomi Alice didn't quite know how to react to getting sniffed, like did it count as getting violated? She thought about saying thanks for finding direction of the ball room, but would that be weird because of what he had to do to find it. She was again caught in thought and it took the Faunus student asking her if she was coming or not to snap outta thought. When she caught up she had received his black hoodies to wear on the way. "Thanks..." she said with a slight smile. The walk to the ballroom was fairly quiet and for once Alice felt comfortable enough to speak "So what's your name? I just realized you've been helping me thus whole time and I don't know your name." she asked without stopping or stuttering... for once.</s> <|message|>Chelsea Cranel After a while there was finally enough space to leave the auditorium without having to squeeze through anywhere. Chelsea was walking towards the cafeteria when she saw a dark haired girl walking around outside. She somehow seems... lost. Maybe you should ask her if everything's alright. You think? She truly looked like she had no idea where to go. So Chelsea walked through one of the doors who lead outside and walked towards the girl. "Hello, please excuse my rude question, buuut could it be that you are a bit lost? If you want to go to the cafeteria where the party is supposed to take place I could show you the way. I was planning to go there anyway sooner or later."</s> <|message|>Seth Rush Seth walked with his hands in his pockets and on occasion he would sniff the air. "Name's Seth, but I don't think you need to worry about remembering it. Odds are you'll find a group of friends and forget," Seth said with out looking at Alice. He took another whiff of air at cross road. "The ballroom should be this way," Seth said as he headed down the left path towards the second largest building. As Seth walked towards the building his right Fox ear swiveled towards each sound while his left ear stayed stationary. After a few more minutes of walking Seth stood in front of a large door and took a long sniff of the air. "Stay here," Seth said before he walked inside the building. After a few seconds he walked back out and said, "alright, no one's inside. You stuff is in the right corner."</s> <|message|>Khalil Hughes North "Yeah yeah." the feminine boy rolled his eyes while staring at the food that was being given to them. As the line moved up, Khalil giggled softly while his brother explained as to why they haven't hugged as of yet. It was true, they haven't seen each-other in years so his twin brother might have forgotten how to treat Khalil, totally understandable, but if they haven't seen each-other in years then why not hug it out? "Well, let's just forget about that and let's get something to eat because I am really really starving and I want some food in my system." the girly boy told his brother while removing his brother's arm from his shoulder and grabbing a tray for some food. Khalil turned his head slightly towards his brother before raising an eyebrow, smiling while speaking in a curiously tone of voice. "Sooooooo, what do you think the academy is going to be like? Oh my, I wonder whose going to be in our classrooms. I hope there aren't any bullies or anything. I cannot stand them." he rolled his eyes while cuffing a string of his hair behind his ear, continuing to talk to his brother, as he was now babbling about. "And! I wonder what kind of missions we are going to get. Oh, this is so exciting!" he squealed in a girly way as a few males stared at him for a second before walking away. Khalil ignored them and hopefully his brother would too. He was a bit over-protective of Khalil.</s> <|message|>Gri "Gray" Hughes Gri simply grinned at him before allowing his arm to be removed and then took his own tray of food. He looked at it with what seems to be wonder in his eyes. "Now this is quality food." He muttered, as if he hasn't seen this 'quality food' for quite a long time. And it was just a simple lunch meal that anyone could get from anywhere if they could just go outside. Unfortunately, the Atlas Military was very strict about their diet so they had to eat mostly meat and vegetables... and some rice to add. Now, he can relax and just eat these kinds of stuff to his heart's content. Even though half of his attention was given to his food which he might be drooling at right now, he still had half of it to his brother who was now babbling. When Khalil became like this, he would simply shut up and listen to him, occasionally giving comments when it is needed but overall more quiet than he should be. At the mention of bullies, however, he gave a shrug and said, "Even if there are bullies, I'm sure everyone can handle themselves well here. We're not going to be hunters and huntresses if we're too weak to be bullied." He pointed out. Well, he did have truth in his words. Being a hunter or huntress is a dangerous job which involves fighting the Grimm. If you can't defeat a human, what hope can you have against the Grimm? "I would imagine that we won't be alone in our first assignment. It would be far too dangerous don't you think?" He pointed out as he averted his gaze from the food and towards Khalil. When he let out a girly laugh, Gri immediately notice most of the boys had stopped to stare at her. He then responded with a glare towards them but he didn't do anything physical, unlike before where he would speak up. He was much more mature now so he knew better than to do that and cause a scene. "What made you want to become a hunter anyway? Last I checked, you weren't interested in it." Well, if he thought about it, the last time he checked was six years ago making his information very outdated.</s> <|message|>Alice Naomi When Seth said they were at the ballroom Alice felt relief. She waited for Seth to say the cost is clear, and when he did she started to walk inside. "Could you stand outside and maybe warn me if someone is coming, or try to keep them out?" she asked Seth before closing the ballroom door and walking over to her stuff. She pulled out a fresh set of clothes, and took off Seth's hoodie and her wet clothes. She than began to put on her fresh non-wet clothes. Once done she placed everything in her bag, and exited through the door Seth was waiting at. "Thanks for helping me... You can go now if you want." Alice said sort of hoping they can keep hanging out. Seth is so far the closet thing she has to a friend at this school, but she knows most people wouldn't want to hang out with someone as weird as her.</s> <|message|>Shirako Grey ReloadeD Shirako was a little surprised after being so suddenly addressed, however it wouldn't show if she tried. "Hmm...?" She spins around to face the woman before her, analyzing her and entering a profile. 'She doesn't appear dangerous... Re-engage CPU - learning of personality traits: active.' Her eyes seem to come to life, or at the very least brighten, staring silently at the girl a moment longer. Yet, a moment before it got awkward, Shirako replies: "Yes, I am lost. I haven't had the time to create a mental map of the school yet. Your offer has been acknowledged and well-appreciated." Her face doesn't shift in form, nor does her tone of voice change in any way. However, she seems incredibly focused on Chelsea and the conversation at hand. The truth was simply that Shirako was studying, racking her brain to try and figure out how to humanely emote. And Chelsea was her handbook!</s> <|message|>Mell Graz Mell walks along the sidewalks having completely missed the greeting speeches. Walking freely around campus wearing his thin black leather collar, a pair of simple tennis shoes and a little black dress that fell to his knees with is hair clipped to the side. He felt he was cute but ultimately he was lost. Confused. He stumbled around until he saw a pair of students running away he decided to follow them. Maybe they could help. They wound up in a ballroom and he stood away hoping to talk to them when they came back out. @Rex</s> <|message|>Seth Rush Seth nodded when Alice asked him to keep watch while she was inside the ballroom. He didn't have to wait long for her to came back out. Seth shrugged when she said he could leave. "I'm just heading to the cafeteria to grab a bit to eat. If you want to tag along," Seth explained before he sniffed the air again. "We're not too far away from the cafeteria," Seth said before he headed towards the building that housed the cafeteria. He stopped when he noticed another student and asked, "you lost too?" @Shadolord</s>

<|message|>Chelsea Cranel Shirakos words slightly confused Chelsea, but she decided not to go into detail about it. Chelsea nodded before she turned around to get back on her previous route. "Great, I'll lead the way then!" As they were on their way to the cafeteria Chelsea looked at Shirako for a few seconds. She still had the same expression on her face from before, it didn't change a bit. She seems a little weird. Then Chelsea stopped in her tracks all of a sudden. "Silly me, I completely forgot to introduce myself!" She turned around once more and with a beaming smile she said "I am Chelsea, nice to meet you."</s>

<|description|>Cirene Cere AKA Circe Age: 25. Always 25. Not like thousands of years old or anything. Birthplace:Somewhere in Ancient Greece Current Location: Near Mount Olympus Occupation:Witch Lesser Goddess Philantropist. Personality: Circe is a woman of complex motivations. Once a largely self-interest hermit who did as she pleased without caring much about the consequences, the fate was it so she would be challenged and subdued by Odysseus into helping his quest. Ever since he robbed her heart aswell, she has mellowed considerably and has come to appreciate humans as a whole, but her wisdom is not one that she gives straightforward, enjoying trickery and bending the rules to get some extra amusement. Appearance: Circe is a woman of great beauty, and somewhat exotic features. She has a vivid stare and fiery hair, denoting her connection to the sun god Helios. She always dresses in elegant clothes and has a polite, sophisticated demeanor. Hobbies/Interests: Clubbing, wine, fine foods. Also studying the natural arts, the occult, and helping science. Family: Wuh? Well yeah. Probably someone might still be alive, I guess? Home Life: Single. Has had several paramours through the ages. Short/Long Bio: Circe. The witch of the Odyssey. An immortal being whose hobbies included drugging beasts to become peaceful, perform magic rituals and turn people that wronged her into animals and monsters. Everything changed with Odysseus, who shook her little insulated world. But he was a mortal King, and he had a mortal Queen. She nevertheless tried, though, helping him in his quest to return home after angering Poseidon. Smitten with the heroics of humans, Circe became a more warm and comforting person ever since, sometimes aiding the poor souls that by chance ended in her island how to conduct themselves. But to all things come an end, and the era of Hellenistic deities came soon. For some reason, Circe managed to avoid vanishing, although her powers were greatly diminished as a result... She was still an immortal woman, though, and she watched the development of men through the ages. The same humans who she despised, were now enacting miracles. Over the centuries with careful inversions, she amassed a large fortune. With one objective. Make humans leave for the stars in the firmament. The resurgence of the old gods, although it restored her powers, made her worry about the fact they could mean another dark age for humanity... Form of Witchcraft: Old Magic. She is hopeless with computers though. Form of Sacrifice: All types. Although, she sometimes sacrifices her Ichor (divine blood) for extra oomph. Abilities/Rituals: Circe is a master at magic. If she doesn't know a ritual, it's because it was invented after she had stopped practicing. However several rituals of hers are particulary attributed to her. Curse of the Beast: Circe requires a medium to enact this curse, be a wand crafted by soaking it in several animal sacrifices, or by cooking food tainted with blood macerated with magical rituals. Anyone who's in front of the wand or ingests the tainted food turns into a lowly animal (usually a swine). She knows more powerful variants that can turn people into monsters, but those take much more time to prepare and she is not usually that vindictive. Charm of the Witch: This other ritual creates a potent charming drug, by employing Circe's own saliva or hair in a ritual strenghtened by other sacrifices. Whoever ingests or inhales the drug will become docile and very likely to obey Circe's orders or coercion. Gaze of Hypnos: By looking at a target and performing some gestures and symbols, she can make the target fall in a deep sleep. It can be a bit unreliable. Visage of Helios: By channeling the sun god, Circe is able to emit a very potent burst of light that blinds those nearby. Notably, since she is the daughter of a Sun God, she doesn't need sacrifice. But she can't fire it continuously, requiring some time between uses. Leash of Helios: By concentrating light into her fingertips, she can shoot a beam of concentrated light to burn opponents. This spell can be quite straining if employed in quick succession. Ward of Thanatos: Circe is able to grant humans immortality, but this requires sacrificing some of her immortal Ichor, and risk losing her life and immortality if overused. Only one person was brought back with this skill, Odysseus, which afterwards died of grief. Restitution: Likewise, by burning her Ichor, Circe is also able to purify the most tenacious curses empowered by the most twisted of gods. But since it runs on her immortal blood, it would be unwise to use it as a cure all. Preferred Deity: Dad Helios, although she knows a lot of gods. Preference of Follower Type:(if she even gets worshipped). Hunks. Also cute mischievous little witch girls.</s> <|message|>'Tes Lyn' (Tessa Leann Kline) Tes was mindful not to blow smoke in the faces of her companions. Someone approached her to tell her to put out her cigarette, but she glanced over and gave a small wave and grin. Usually once people recognized her, she got away with everything but murder. The man hesitated but pretended not to notice the scent of tobacco and clove that was heavy in the air as he walked away. "Sure!" Tes hummed. "I'm starved. Do you know any restaurants around here? It can be my treat." She offered. Then she hesitated as she put her cigarette out on her palm before dumping in it a trashcan once it was cooled off. She looked at the mark on her hand before ignoring it and heading towards the exit, fully expecting the other two to follow. "So, outskirts of Athens, eh?" She said. "Oh! Hey, Eun, how's that brother of yours?"</s> <|message|>Alexander Demitrius Regas The dark haired male seemed to be absentmindedly playing with his glove as one of the men approached Tes to probably tell her about putting the cigarette out considering that they were inside an airport. However, he seemed to have hesitated and moved on. Demitrius looked up once more when Tes asked about any restaurants around town. He let out a chuckle before turning to Eun. "I don't eat out all that much. You know anything?" By 'all that much', he really meant never. Nothing beats home cooking. "Ah, but my mom's preparing some food back at home." He decided to point out. If anything, he didn't want any of his mother's food to go to waste. That and he didn't want to have to eat feast food for three more days. That's just how things work out at his home. Leftover food is meant to be eaten after all so they just eat it everyday until it was all gone. Of course, he had instinctively followed the girl as she began to walk. "And yeah, it's best that we're not too close from the hustle and bustle of the city but close enough to trade." It was the most ideal position. It was good that they were able to grow crops so near to Athens; they certainly were blessed by their beloved deity. Demitrius's eyes sparkled at the mention of a brother. "You have a brother Eun?" He asked excitedly. "Oh! He can come with us for lunch too! If... he's not doing anything that is." He quickly added the last part as to not seem too pushy though he doubted that they would mind. Right?</s> <|message|>Eun-Ha Lee; often goes by Eun, Lee, or Pollux. Eun watched curiously as the other woman smoked, her expression rather still. She wasn't a fan of those who did smoke, but at least Tes had to decency not to puff smoke everywhere right? Not to mention that this did little to tarnish how the younger girl thought of the other; it was freaking Tessa for crying out loud! Eun-Ha's expression did however brighten as food was mentioned. "I don't eat out much myself, but I have heard that the Mani Mani Restaurant has quite to array of dishes." She answered Demitrius as she clasped her hands behind her. Hearing that Demitrius' mother was preparing food as they were speaking, Eun nodded slowly in understanding. She herself preferred homemade food since she could never afford the pricier stuff. "If that's the case, might it be ideal to settle at Demitrius' home to feast instead? What do you think Ms. Tessa?" She questioned, as she was now following beside the raven haired boy. She listened on to what they were saying, mostly about where Demitrius lived, before her brother was suddenly brought up. A sheepish smile formed on the girl's lips as she scratched the back of her head. "Chan is doing quite alright, thank you for asking. He'll be grateful to hear about your safe arrival." She answered Tes first before turning to Demitrius and placing a finger on her chin in thought. "If I am not mistaken, my brother Chan is still in school right now. So unfortunately he'll be unable to join us at the moment. Hopefully you understand." She concluded with a kind nod of her head. Of course she regretted leaving her brother out of all of the fun, but fortunately, once school let out, he'd be more free to possibly spend time with them.</s> <|message|>Cirene Cere AKA Circe Circe held the map, frowning. Navigating these modern cities was nightmarish. Once upon a time, the entire population of Greece could fit inside a single district of the capital. Now, Athena's own city had swelled to unrecognizable levels. And she still didn't know how to use those cellphone gizmos, which she thought it was the reason why people didn't get lost. She briefly considered doing magic divination to find her way quickly, but she refrained to do so. Magic could potentially draw a lot of unwanted attention. The old witch simply resigned to finding her way in the traditional way: Asking a locale. She found her victims readily. There was a mixed group of youths whose members did look foreign alongside a young local man. <"Excuse me."> She said in a fluent but slightly odd and archaic greek. <"Do you know where this place is supposed to be?"> She pointed at the map, readily, as she focused her gaze on Demitrius. Wait. Wasn't one of them that Salem Cult leader upstart? She thought as she sideglanced at one of the women there. Well, she didn't have for this. She was on her way for a business meeting.</s> <|message|>Alexander Demitrius Regas Demitrius sighed, "Aw, too bad. Next time, perhaps Chan can join us?" Well, that was, if his school didn't end early. Maybe he could help pick him up for Eun? It was the least he could do for her entertaining him with her music every time he was at the main city. He had a car anyway, might as well use it. Unless his father had something for him to do, then he wouldn't be able to do anything. That was when his ears perked up to the different language another person was speaking. He quickly turned his head to the woman. Her fiery red eyes and exotic look quickly caught his attention. There was something about her that made him feel odd but he quickly dismissed the feeling. Her choice of wording was odd - a rather old version of the Greek language. It didn't matter much to him, though, as he could still understand it. Studying about the olden days did this. <"Of course."> He replied, trying his best to not sound very awkward when it came to speaking the old language. He then looked at the point she was pointing at. He then looked up from the map before pointing down the street. <"Turn left at the next intersection, go straight for about two blocks, turn right again and just go straight from there. You should be able to see it."> It was a good thing he practiced talking in it. There were some words that weren't in use anymore but at least it was a little similar so it didn't take a whole lot of practicing to get it right.</s> <|message|>'Tes Lyn' (Tessa Leann Kline) Tes stared openly for a moment at the woman who approached them, even going so far as to push her sunglasses into the wild curls of her hair. For once, the determinate and self-assured look in her eyes faltered as she watched Circe speak in a tongue she did not know, yet felt vaguely familiar with. A slight tinge of red grew across her cheeks as she realized she had dazed out. Hastily, she pulled her large sunglasses back over her eyes, hoping the woman did not catch that expression. Now uncertain of what to do with her hands, she stuffed them in the pockets of her shorts, trying to comprehend what it was about that woman that had flustered her so easily. Working in the entertainment industry as long as she did, she had some pretty racy moments on camera that didn't make her bat an eye, but this woman simply spoke and caused Tes to blush like a school girl. She glanced about the area, before narrowing her eyes and looking at Circe once again. She wondered if it was some sort of glamor ritual, but disregarded the thought almost immediately and settled on rummaging through her bag. She pulled out the business card for her agent, an all black card with a pink phone number embossed on it. The phone number was a private line, inaccessible to anyone who had no been given it directly. She handed it to Eun with a little wink. "Before I forget." She whispered. "Just call that when you're ready to come to America and get in our industry."</s> <|message|>Eun-Ha Lee; often goes by Eun, Lee, or Pollux. Eun looked to Demitrius with a relief smile, happy that the other wasn't deterred by the fact that Chan wouldn't be able to make it. Well, there was also the fact that Chan...wasn't exactly the most sociable; she honestly feared that the other's analytical ways and blunt way of speaking would drive off her new friends. But she would never say something like that out loud... Before she had a chance to thank the boy again for the offer, a woman had approached Demitrius. Although her appearance made it quite noticeable, the woman had been speaking in a different language, one that Eun has heard before but couldn't follow in normal conversation. As she left the raven haired boy to do his this and seemingly assist the other, the blonde's gaze moved over to Tes...who was acting rather strangely. "U-Um, pardon, Miss Tessa? Are you alright?" She whispered as not to pull any attention towards her. Instead of answering her question, Tes handed the girl a card, in which she bowed slightly before receiving. "Th-Thank you! I'll be sure to do so! P-Promise!" She responded politely before bringing her attention back to Demitrius, wondering if he had finished the conversation or not.</s>

<|message|>Cirene Cere AKA Circe Circe eyed the young man sagely. Her hand reflexively went up to her chin as she took in the information with a slight frown, a tiny bobbing nod in acknowledgement. <"Thank you."> She said as she helped herself to grab the map once again. That had been helpful. The old witch thought for a second, as she folded the map and bid her goodbye. She started to walk away with firm pace, but no sooner she had walked five steps, her eyes drifted around to the gathered group, specially the one she assumed to be the leard. "An advice for an advice, o young ones." She said in perfect English. "Do not invoke the gods needlessly. For their wills are unfathomable and fickle." She added as once again she turned her back on the group, her goal set to negotiate the purchase of her island once again. She was a little short of time...</s>

<|description|>Nemo Appearance: Height: 152.5cms / 60.03 inches Weight: 45.8kgs / 101lbs Slightly shorter than average but at the average weight, Nemo is about as toned as a 13 year old can get without being bulky. Age: 13 Nationality: Unknown Noble Arm Name & Appearance: -Vitae- Noble Arm Rank: D+ Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Support, Time, Reversal. Close-range. Noble Arm Abilities: Vitae's abilities are based on Nemo's emotional state. Rip (Anger): Vitae's blade begins vibrating at an intense speed, making it able to cut through most things that aren't Noble Arms themselves, and making it near impossible to block even with one. This, combined with Vitae being much too big for its Arms Master, makes wielding it a challenge. Tear (Sadness): Vitae becomes inert, making it able to deflect attacks in a unique way as nothing other than its Arms Master can cause it to move. [Think Immovable Rod from DND or something] Shred (Happiness): Vitae shrinks to a third of its size, making wielding it much easier as it now fits Nemo's body like a weapon should. Reverse (Determination): Vitae stops being able to cut things, instead being in contact with its blade causes things to revert to a previous point in time, in terms of its existence. Wounds heal as if they were never there, but there's little to no offensive use of Reverse. Inverse (Agony): Any damage that Nemo is dealing with, physical, mental, emotional, etc. becomes transferable via Vitae's blade. A small cut from it will mirror the wounds Nemo has unto the target. Misc Abilities: Physical Fitness: Nemo is extremely agile and strong for his age. His only lacking physical attribute is durability. Mental Acuity: Nemo is not necessarily brilliant, as he is uneducated, but is a good problem solver and quick learner. Voice: Nemo's voice is naturally very calming and he is capable of mimicking other voices quite well. Personality: *Likes: Survival. Helping. Praise. *Dislikes: Dying. Being useless. Killing. Fears: Death. Torture. Heights. Bio: Nemo is an unknown element up until he turned 11 years old, at which point his Noble Arms manifested. Since then he has been kept in a facility where he was experimented on, trained, and used in order to become a useful soldier for the U.S. His existence is top-secret, and is kept to only the highest members of the military, or more specifically the faction he belongs to. Which faction? If we knew, we'd be dead. Before his abduction, he was an orphan. That's all he remembers from that time, due to the "treatments" he has had administered over time. That's all that exists in records, either. He's been put through daily training in how to fight, especially in how to use his Noble Arms, but tactics escape him beyond the scope of himself. He will never be a military leader, and couldn't be due to this fact, which is only worsened by the induced amnesia he is put through weekly as part of his training. The only things he retains for sure are muscle memory usage of weapons, his Noble Arms, and his need to be praised. (Usually for following orders.) He once even forgot how to eat and had to be fed intravenously for a few days until he relearned how to swallow food correctly, and how much to chew it. His early training was mostly obedience training, shock collar and all, but when it was decided to begin inducing amnesia, that training was deemed a failure. However, it seems like it stuck with him somehow, due to how desperate he is to do well for others. *Current Goal: Survive and do what he has to in order to do so. Military or Civilian Rank: Unknown Military Rank.</s> <|message|>Lucy Dolores Lucy Dolores Eyeless Cerberus --- What Lucy did not expect was that flash. It ruined her plans, and her vision, for the moment. It'd come back, she knew that. What she didn't know is who she hit, being blinded like that caused her to panic release a Burst she was charging up, the drain hitting her like a sack of wet potatoes. Thankfully, it hit no one, but it sheared off a few trees and ripped all the branches off several others, the resulting boom and crack drawing attention to her area. This was a problem, if that enemy Arms Master looked her way... No, can't think about that now. She wouldn't stop trying, not while they still exist. "Everyone alive?" She asked, to be met with pained grunts and a few noises of acknowledgement. Think, think. Time to think. She can't see, so she couldn't shoot the fucker. Think... If only Daedalus had eyes, wait. That's what she should do. Might not be the smartest idea but... She fumbles for her radio, shouldering against what she thinks is cover. "Ground troops, if you see or hear a chain move close, say the word 'gold' over comms, if you need help from a threat, say 'green'." A moving chain? One other soldier let out a confused mouth noise, as it would be described by Lucy. Soon after that, a series of three bladed chains erupt from Daedalus, one coiling around her immediate surroundings. The other two extend to their maximum length, fifty whole meters, covering a hundred combined. She tears off her helmet, then grabs one chain with her thumb and index, and the other with her middle and ring finger. Those two extended chains slowly snake across the battlefield. Thankfully, there's not many people shooting anymore, so it's a tad quieter now. She hushes the thoughts in her head, listening to the surroundings and impacts from the chains hitting things. While she may not be able to see right now, or feel with Daedalus, she can listen and feel impacts on those chains with her hand. Can't keep em out forever, but she doesn't need forever, only a few moments until her vision comes back, letting those blinded chains try to find Huo Ren, even if he's not too close. If she can find him before he finds her... That'd be helpful. Yet another unexpected thing, a powerful thump coming from afar, plus the crack whizz of a round flying by. That couldn't have been an enemy, could it? She couldn't afford to find out, she's not dead after all. Only if she had some form of premonition, or extra sensory perception. That'd be useful, but Lucy is limited to a mortal, albeit magical, coil.</s> <|message|>Nico Makri The very first thing Nico noticed when he finally arrived on the beach was the spearman, Huo Ren. He wasn't fully in the loop, but he understood that a Zodiac was not a good sign for most of the people nearby. The next thing he noticed was the beam of light that tore through the sky, racing right at the spearman with a roar like thunder. Nico figured that would be a good distraction, but worried that wouldn't be enough to kill the A-Rank. And then he noticed the world around him: NA Masters, some regular soldiers, and the frantic state of the battle. "That shot might be what I need, but I've got to get going." He hesitated for only a moment before making his choice. He manifested his Noble Arm, knowing that he'd need all the strength he can get. Still, he was confident that he could make the distance before Huo could recover. Between the railgun and robed girl fighting the Zodiac, Nico may not be high on the priority list considering his fashionably late arrival. "Here goes…something." And with that, Nico would take off, feeling Helios Rod's power flood his body, barely restraining it in order to avoid burning in the process. Still, it's a sight to behold, as Nico streaked down the beach like a comet, the sand steaming with each stride he takes. As he thundered down the beach, he'd aim a massive fist right at the side of Huo Ren's chin in an attempt to knock him off balance, praying silently that the swordswoman and apparent lightning cannon would be enough to give him the element of surprise.</s>

<|message|>Nemo -"Good; we might need you later on, then. In the meantime, query: Are you here as a volunteer, or as part of another nation's special forces or related group? And if the latter, can you share me any details you know? It might be useful to know who our allies are..."- Nemo didn't outwardly respond, but his inner balance was thrown off somewhat. Lie. He knew he wasn't to divulge any information about his handlers, even to friendly forces allies, but he also couldn't just refuse to respond. And he was no good at misdirection, he knew that. After a moment's silence, he responded. "Special forces, located in the western hemisphere." he managed to say. Any more than that would be dangerous for him if when he returned. -"If you really want to help in the battle, ask for a longer-range weapon, perhaps a sniper rifle, if you know how to use one. But to be honest, I would prefer it if you tell me why you've been sent to fight and how you feel about it."- the Officer continued. The young boy nodded at first, but slowly began to stop. He didn't know how to use a sniper rifle. Or rather, he hadn't been allowed to practice with one. He knew the theory behind it, but the finer points escaped him. He thought that at one point he had known the correct usage, but that skill must have been erased forgotten. Pausing for a moment as these thoughts fired in his head, he finally replied. "Subject sent with orders to assist in defending the area. While the reason is unknown, this battle is considered critical to the plans of those who determined that this area should be defended. Subject was chosen to collect real-world battle experience, and due to lack of crucial knowledge if captured." Nemo, having finished his spiel, thought for a few seconds on the last part of the Officer's statement. "As long as I can be useful, I'll be okay. Permission to requisition a firearm?" There was a flash across the area, behind Nemo's back. The boy didn't react, and was temporarily blinded despite facing away from it. He simply waited for his vision to clear.</s>

<|description|>Lady Regina Cormier Age: 16 Appearance: Regina stands at about 5'4. Aside from her military uniform, she often wears a set of high quality clothes. Bio/Summary: Regina is the daughter of Lord Peter Cormier, a famous commoner-turned-noble who has saved the life of an important person in the Empire. Having been granted a title of nobility, all that Peter has wanted to do was retire and set his kids up. However, political pressure from those who held disdain toward the former commoner forced him to show he was not part of the riff-raff anymore. Thus, both a militia under Lord Cormier and sending his daughter to Cadenza Military Academy were necessary, much to his annoyance. Despite her father's attitude, Regina liked the idea of going somewhere new. A new opportunity to see the world was all it took to strike her fancy instead of staying back home with Lord Cormier. However, when she arrived at the academy her father's influence on her was apparent. She spoke differently than most of the nobles despite her mother, Selena Cormier, being one and teaching Regina the finer touches of nobility. This ultimately causes her to stand out to both commoners and nobles, as her mannerisms and style of dress stem from both influences, though her father's is more apparent. Even so Regina is usually nice to everyone but does not overdo it. Vessel: Irregular's Life-While the vessel is in a dormant state, the vessel is a bracelet. When activated, the vessel turns into the form of a large sniper rifle, capable of firing at long distances with a total of 3 shots consecutively before needing a recharge, which requires at least one and a half minutes if not more of time. While not suitable for close quarters or short range by any means, it is effective at a distance. Abilities: Irregular Ambush-If an enemy does not know that Regina is there until the shot is fired, an explosion occurs upon impact of the bullet as well as increased penetrative power and stopping power. Mark-Allows Regina to mark a target, tracking them with her own eyes even if they are hidden from view, knowing exactly where they are until they are either out of the area, not a threat, Regina chooses another target, or Regina's vessel returns to a dormant state. Equipment: Short-sword, Lord Cormier's survival hatchet, book, entrenching tool (when out in the field) Trivia/Other: Regina is fairly rich, but does not like to show as such. Regina is also extremely knowledgeable about traps and laying them thanks to Lord Cormier's insistence. She has a soft spot for nature and furry animals.</s> <|message|>Foley Barca Foley Barca --- Foley almost didn't have to stop moving before Egwene slashed at his body with that maddening blade. He felt better leg no longer in pain... Just in time to see a massive monster summoned. "...Well, I did not expect this." The bow man answered as he watched his fellow students rush and attack the creature. Foley moved back taking aim for the things eyes. "Keep it distracted, I'll try to blind it." The archer called as he fired his arrows of light towards the beast's eyes. Wanting to distract or keep it from killing Morgan before things got out of hand further. With that, he moved to the wall trying to scale up so he could a better angle to fire at the thing. Wondering if he could mentally link his team mates, normally he preferred to do that before the fighting started... But you know, that really wasn't an option.</s> <|message|>Leblanc "Lucky" Ferris Leblanc Farris [[ Location : Enemy Encampment]] Her expectations were subverted in two substantial regards, and Leblanc was pleased to find neither of them were due to the fault of the cadets trailing in her wake. First was the unexpected escape of what appeared to her to be captured cadets if there Vassals and antipathy to their captors war anything to go by, the second was a monster infinitely more threatening then the flock of Rocs they'd encountered the day before. She'd stiffened in the shadows and fell to a knee with a cry drowned out by the monster's own as her attuned hearing came back to bite her with a disorienting flare of pain. By some small miracle there were ample cadets crawling out of the woodwork to confront the clear and present danger before them, and thus it seemed to have no reason to target her in a moment's weakness. That was all she needed to gather her wits about her and adjust her senses for the frantic cacophony of combat, unwilling to expose herself to such a blunder in the future. As she rose from the dirt her hand brushed across a loose brick, fallen from it's brethren and chipped at the corners, yet still sporting an oddly satisfying weight to it. With the air soon to fill with arrows, bolts, and musket balls it would have been the height of stupidity to dart in with her knives and hope to dodge both the enemy and ally with impunity. A harsh kick to the decrepit masonry knocked loose several more in what Leblanc took in the way of ammunition, and she rose to full height with brick in each hand. Her body twisted as though a screw, arms whirling and embracing herself with near impossible dexterity, only to unwind with a snap and hurl her impromptu projectiles as though shot-puts aimed at the creature's bulging neck.</s> <|message|>Esther von Degraff Esther von Degraff --- "Y-yes, right away!" Esther replied to Gradon's order. And so they're heading out to combat again, this time against who knew what? Anything that made such a sound couldn't be good. And the princess just had to faint in a time like this. They soon closed in on the ruins, Esther not daring to go ahead even though she could if she wanted, thanks to her vessel. And when she arrived there, what she saw made her thankful for not rushing ahead of the others. "W-w-what is that?" Esther asked to no one in particular. Her expression was that of fear and surprise. Fear of the creature's terrifying presence. And surprise that such a creature could even exist. She saw how some other people were already fighting the beast, with the most recent attack being a bunch of arrows of light fired off towards the beasts' eyes, most likely intending to blind it... Wait, were those vessel users? Were they reinforcements? She would think about that later. For now, she just had to concentrate her attacks on the beast along with the others. And so she switched her vessel to its combat mode and started kicking off wind blades towards the creature. She didn't know how effective her attack would be. She had a feeling it was not going to be that easy to slay the abomination.</s> <|message|>The Codex World's End Strait --- --- "You can count on me! I'll not let anyone get close to the Princess. Do you best out there too, guys," Viola replied to the receding figures of both Gradon and Tzi. As soon as she was done taking care of Ires' immediate condition, the Aquarian Squire picked her weapons once more and waited at attention by the entrance of the tent. Unless someone used supernatural means, it was going to be hard to deceive Viola. • • •The beast howled in rage at the Cadets' counter-attack. Its bodily structure seemed to be withstanding the barrage well, most hits only registering as a distortion of its dark mass before any gap opened began to close itself at an astounding speed. Even then, the Cadets' attacks, whether they were made using their Vessels or not, slowly piled up, leaving wounds that didn't heal. It looked like this was going to be an uphill battle but one that they could ultimately win with enough coordination and hard work. The first one the beast responded to was Zarin. Raising its arms defensively, the monster avoided having its head scorched. Right about the same time, Clean would discover that the beast's reaction time wasn't to be ignored as well. With a powerful mule kick, it sent several chunks of debris and dirt, like a shotgun's blast, at both Clean and Zarin's direction. An unfocused attack likely wasn't going to hurt so badly, but it certainly was going to clear more space for the beast to maneuver. Regina's initial shot landed right where she aimed, perforating one of the monster's knees. The fact that he was still able to move with unhindered agility, or that not even a drop of blood was shed, made it obvious that its anatomy was the same of a normal living creature if it had an anatomy at all. The creature covered its face once Folley tried to blind it, only to have his light arrows stuck to the being's thick arms. Nevertheless, this reaction blinded it to Leblanc's assault. The first bricks to hit the creature almost shook it out of balance. However, it was just a matter of time until it reacted by grabbing one or two of them out of the air and throwing the at Regina, like buzzing cannonballs cutting her routes to run on the floors above. Perhaps that wasn't to the Cadets' disadvantage, though. By the time Esther joined the fray, adding more damage to the slowly raising amount the creature piled, one of the nearby buildings was all but crumbling apart. Perhaps a little creative thinking on their part could speed up the fight? ---</s> <|message|>Egwene Egwene Egwene turned to face the beast after returning her favour to Foley. Now both of us are even, and seems like the other guys are finally here ~ Egwene raised her sword, putting a stance of her blade pointing upwards as she approaches the ugly beast. Her fingers trickle on the handle in excitement, steadily closening the distance, but not calmly. Entering the sword reach, Egwene, with one lunge swung her insanely screaming sword downwards towards the beast, letting out her smile that she often shows in battle.</s> <|message|>Zarin Malthain Zarin Malthain Location: Ruins --- As the fireball hit the beast's arms, Zarin watched in dismay as, the burns healed just as fast as they had been inflicted. Cursing under his breath, the cadet reignited his whip while reassessing his situation. He wouldn't get much time to do so, unfortunately, as the beast was quick to counter attack sending chunks of debris at high speed. Acting fast Zarin ran towards the flying debris and dove into a combat roll just as it was about to crash into him. Having closed some distance between him and the monster, Zarin originally intended to force the beast's focus on him which would allow Morgan to escape while letting the others come up with a course of action. Upon closer inspection, however, he noticed that some of the wounds from before had not fully healed yet. Perhaps they were doing enough damage to hurt this thing! Only one way to find out. "Alright you monstrous freak. Let's dance!" Zarin said before rushing towards the massive creature. With his focus completely on the beast, Zarin failed to notice the ready to collapse building right in front of him. It would take another cadet with a keener eye to alert him or destabilize it themselves.</s>

<|message|>Lady Regina Cormier Regina saw the bricks coming from a mile away, having watched the monster's movements carefully and marking it. It was due to this that she was able to avoid the bricks. However, this maneuver did not go without positive results for the monster, for Regina fell down to the floor below where the rest of the cadets were. She was lucky to have not gotten any more injured than scraped hands and a back injury already adding on to the list of injuries she has received on this one mission, the first being the ones she has received from the day before. Adrenaline was an amazing thing, for it allowed her to still keep fighting. However, when Regina looked up she saw no sign of Leblanc even trying to organize their forces a seething rage took hold of her, what was left of her niceness slowly dying piece by piece and being replaced by Peter Cormier's bitterness. She did not mind that Leblanc tried to take some semblance of command earlier and even admired that, but the second she did not try to take control of the situation when it counted was when Regina's respect was lost. Yes, her fighting skill was alright but that did not make one a good leader, and Regina was already at her breaking point after the Rocs yesterday. By the princess's bosom, can't I catch a frakking break?! She was most definitely going to have a word with one of their "officers" about this. And thus, this lead to what Regina did next. She thought of the only thing she could do as she analyzed the surroundings and spotted the crumbling building. Too bad they did not have the explosive power required to bring down the building, for they had to go with something different. With an angry yell, Regina started barking what she wanted done hoping that at least someone would listen "ALL WITH A RANGED WEAPON, RALLY UP. FIRE, RELOAD, THEN SOMEONE ELSE FIRE WHILE THEY ARE RELOADING THEN REPEAT! SCATTER IF THE FRAKKING THING TRIES TO KILL YOU, THEN REFORM. MELEE GROUPS, SEPARATE INTO TWO TEAMS. FIRST TEAM, STRIKE THE MONSTER AGGRESSIVELY AND KEEP THE PRESSURE UP, SECOND TEAM STRIKE AT THE POINTS THE RANGED TEAM IS HITTING AND TAKE OFF THE HEAT FROM THE FIRST, SWITCHING ROLES. MOVE IT!" Regina did not think this was going to work at all, knowing that her previous luck with attempting to conduct a plan was met with hostility, but she felt she had no choice in the matter. She had to organize them to give them a better chance. If they didn't organize? Well Regina figured she would at least tell the officers that she tried and to never put Leblanc into a command position ever again if they survived this. That was when Regina saw Esther come in while she was looting the soldier's bodies for grenades, gathering a few of them. "Esther, where are the officers?! Tell them to take command of this rabble and there is a collapsing building, but we don't have the explosives to collapse it onto the thing! Cover me!" Regardless if she was successful in organizing the cadets enough for the soon-to-be-present Gradon, Regina took a risky move: charging toward the beast with the grenades she collected, activating the grenades, cooking them, then throwing them at the beast while warning the others that grenades were being thrown at the top of her lungs, aiming right for the spots the monster was hit and hoping that maybe one of the grenades would be swallowed or something. Really, even as Regina was charging the beast she knew it was stupid and shouldn't work. But she was committed the moment she activated her first grenade, stopped just in range of her throwing arm, and started throwing, shouting out to give their allies time to get away from the explosions.</s>

<|description|>Jennifer Antoinette Watters Age: 35 Gender: Female Appearance Without Armor: What she would have looked like if not for the Human-Covenant War Appearance With Armor: Armor but it is all black Homeworld: Earth Race: Human Rank: Spartan Position: Spartan IV Primary Weapon: MA5B Individual Combat Weapon System (suppressed) with underslung shotgun Secondary Weapon: Dual M7S Submachine Gun (built in suppressor) Personality: She appears emotionally detached and resigned, as if she feels a quiet resolve about something that cannot be altered. She masks the countenance of the classic "poker-face," making her difficult to read by friends, family, and co-workers. In fact, her face looks like a mask, long-drawn as if weighted by the gravity of her burdens. When her eyes are not frustratingly impassive, they can appear, in a poetic sense, like dark chasms that act as reservoirs for the failures, disappointments, and losses of humanity. Her gaze you may see the flickering images of what the whole of mankind has endured in the universe. The first rule in getting along with the Jennifer is to honor her natural penchant for being quiet and taciturn. Indeed, her detached and deadpan delivery can lend an inscrutable air to her mannerisms but their willingness to stand unruffled against the bustle of life can also be a source of serenity to those around her. Learn to enjoy this silence as a tranquil truce with the incessant fury of a clamorous world. She is a person of few words, and never wants to belabor a point; she favors direct communication that cuts to the chase without unnecessary tangents or verbal flourishes. A simple thumbs up or down will often suffice when communicating with her. Bio: Born in Central Virginia in 2527. In 2545 at the age of eighteen she joined the Marine Corps. She eventually became an ODST. During the Battle of New Virginia in 2550 two battalions of Army & Marines were sent to assault a Covenant facility, while twenty ODST were dropped behind enemy lines. After six days the Covenant facility was destroyed. Watters had to be rushed into surgery to save her life. She had to have both eyes were replaced with Ocular Implants, her arms and legs were replaced with permanent artificial limbs. She spent the next year in the hospital and physical therapy. After completing physical therapy she began training Marines to become ODST. In June of 2553 she was approached to join the Spartan-IV Program. Misc Info: She is a Wetwork Specialist. She currently has the Smart A.I. Taber Fuson (approximate appearance). Name: Felicia Steele Age: 34 Gender: Female Appearance Without Armor: What she looks like What she wears when not expecting combat Appearance With Armor (If they do wear it.): What she wears when expecting combat Homeworld: Nomad Race: Human Rank: Gray Jedi Guardian Position: Republic Primary Weapon: Dual Lightsaber/Blaster Hybrid (capable of interlocking to become a Double-bladed Lightsaber) *The blades are electric blue in color. *They feature a built-in length adjustment setting, but also are dual-phase allowing for rapid transitions between two sets of preset lengths. She chose the standard blade length and shoto length. *They incorporate the Bifurcating cyclical-ignition pulse so they can function underwater. *They incorporate the trapped grip modification. Secondary Weapon: Light-shield *The shield is electric blue in color *It features a built-in surface are adjustment setting, but it is also dual-phase allowing for rapid transitions between 0.3 meters and 1.1 meters. *It incorporates the Bifurcating cyclical-ignition pulse so it can function underwater. Personality: Felicia believes that there is absolutely nothing positive or negative about the Force, it is the individual's actions that are positive or negative. Her unorthodox approach to the Force kept her permanently at odds with the Jedi Council. She preferred to stop a threat before it was a threat, or in its infancy, the Council disagreed, leaving Felicia to no choice but to set out on her own. She is also open about his opinions to the point of tactlessness. Bio: Felicia was discovered to be Force Sensitive at the age of sixteen. After achieving knighthood she sat out on her own, she kept in contact with the Jedi Council but found she could no longer be beholden to them. During her travels she was forced to put an end to some slavers, she allowed them to live, stranded on a planet that while livable most unpleasant. She took their ship. Misc Info: She named her ship Steele Falcon. Her armor incorporates vambraces in each arm, they are capable of withstanding the cutting power of Lightsabers. Name: Talyssa "Taly" Hawkethorn Age: 22 Gender: Female Appearance Without Armor: What she looks like What she wears when not expecting combat Appearance With Armor (If they do wear it.): What she wears when expecting combat Homeworld: Zeltros Race: Zeltron Rank: Gray Jedi Apprentice Position: Republic Primary Weapon: Dual Guard Shoto Lightsabers *The blades are electric Pink-Purple in color. *They incorporate the Bifurcating cyclical-ignition pulse so they can function underwater. *They incorporate the trapped grip modification. *Fibercords were attached to each to prevent theft by a telekinetic. *Hilts are made out of Phrik so that the hilt can be used to block other Lightsabers. Secondary Weapon: Single Crossguard Lightsaber *The shield is electric Pink-Purple in color *They feature a built-in length adjustment setting, but also are dual-phase allowing for rapid transitions between two sets of preset lengths. She chose the standard blade length and shoto length. *It incorporates the Bifurcating cyclical-ignition pulse so it can function underwater. Personality: Like most Zeltrons, Taly was fond of partying, and although she would later pursue a career in her life, this liking would never disparate. Her wardrobe contained a wide range of tight and revealing attire for everyday use, swimwear, armor, and various other occasions. Additionally, her usual clothing was fashionable, flashy, and bright, often in neon colors similar to her own natural tones. Additionally, her species could generate pheromones to enhance their attractiveness, and had the empathic ability to read and feel the emotions of others. This made her very persuasive. She also sought to meet her sexual desires. One of Taly's greatest traits was her loyalty to her friends. Bio: Taly was born into slavery. Around the time she reached puberty her owner fell into financial trouble. He was forced to sell almost everything to settle his debts and stay alive. As a result Taly was sold to a man who was looking for female dancers. He trained Taly to steal from her targets as she danced for them. After five years she caught the attention of Felicia who sensed Taly's connection with the force. Felicia gathered evidence that could lead to Taly's master going to jail if not worse from certain individuals who were swindled out of their money. In exchange for the evidence Taly was to be set free. Felicia took Taly and began teaching her in the ways of the Force, spent most of her training aboard the Steele Falcon. Now that she has advanced to the level of apprentice Felicia takes her on some missions. Misc Info: Her armor incorporates vambraces in each arm, they are capable of withstanding the cutting power of Lightsabers. Name: HK-51 Age: Unknown Gender: Masculine Programming Appearance Without Armor: What she looks like Appearance With Armor (If they do wear it.): N/A Homeworld: Nar Shaddaa Race: Droid Rank: N/A Position: unsure what to put here Primary Weapon: Sniper Rifle Secondary Weapon: Vibroknife Personality: HK-51's personality programming caused him to appear misanthropic, bordering on sociopathic, to those who encountered him. The droid enjoyed observing—and often causing—death and destruction, showing complete disregard for bystanders on more than one occasion. Despite this, HK-51's programming caused the assassin droid to maintain a protocol of professionalism, preventing him from senselessly slaughtering his way to his target. The only organics HK-51 displayed any respect for were his masters. He was more than willing, on several occasions while serving his master, to dispose of anyone who annoyed his master. HK-51 displayed several unique behavioral tendencies as a result of his programming. HK-51 had a definite sense of pride and considered himself to be superior to all organics and droids except for his master, who was the only person he seemed to admire. The droid also had a peculiar and perverted idea of the concept of love. He further mused that love was a matter of odds and found it odd that although most "meatbags" could not make such a shot, not many would derive a feeling of love from it. HK-51 had a unique speech trait and vocally prefixed every statement he made with a speech conditional that described the type of statement that it was. Due to his appearance, HK-51, was often mistaken by many for a protocol droid. He used this to his advantage on more than one occasion, hiding his true nature in order to covertly achieve his goals. HK-51 was a proficient killer, as well as highly innovative, using many varied techniques. Bio: Felicia Steele after confiscating the ship that would be renamed into Steele Falcon found a deactivated and partially assembled HK-51 droid. She activated it and had it bond with her, becoming his master. The first thing he inquired about was the status of his previous master; after being informed of their deaths he just snickered at least he snickered to the best of his vocal processor's ability. With his help Felicia was able to acquire the rest of the pieces needed to make him fully functional. Misc Info: Kind of wants to kill Felicia and obtain a master who is more willing to put his assassination protocols to use.</s> <|message|>Rose 'Giggly' Charmer -Rose, UNSC Trinity Rose begins to reload, seeing that the elite was threatening to kill his prisoner. "Rose, I'm detecting signs of a significant data cache of forerunner intel as well as a forerunner weapon." Rose nods, but then bangs her fist against the wall as a , then ducks back around the corner to hide from the fire of the two jackals. "Bridge, this is Rose. An elite has made off with a significant Forerunner data cache, a Forerunner weapon and a scientist. I'm going to take a prisoner." She says through her COM, before darting out. In a split second, she decided to take the Jackal with the shield. The shield would be good for research on shield technology, and she figured it would be easier to take a Jackal nor injured rather than a Jackal with several bullets wounds. Rose fired a few more rounds into the already-injured Jackal, and then slammed into the shielded Jackal, pinning it to the ground and ripping the pistol out of it's hand, breaking a few fingers of the alien. She lifts the jackal like a child and pin's it's gun to her armour, carrying the creature under her arm away to a containment cell. -Verdin, Unfathomable Truth "Major, I'm redirecting you. You shall move to regroup with special operations officer 'Tevum. He is conducting a very important mission. Chocon out." Just as Verdin snapped off the COM, a new window opened up with a flash, displaying a face of a Human. This is very unusual. Who are these different races. He listened to the person who started to talk to him, and then formulated a plan. It may be dishonoring, allying with Humans, however if this Sith Empire did not know about the Covenant, he could use this as a tactical advantage. "Sith Empire, I am Fleetmaster Verdin Chocon of the Covenant. The forces that we are attacking have stolen technology, technology that has been set by the gods for us to discover." He clicked his mandibles.</s> <|message|>Carl Celdak Reza stopped moving as he spoke again into his comm, this time to Khazo, "Officer 'Tevum, this is Major 'Mosam. We have been informed that you require assistance. Where are we needed and how can we be of use?" According to the mission data the Unfathomable had sent him, Khazo's last location was possibly a few hallways away as well as a floor below. Curse these humans and their confusing, maze-like ships. --- Technology from gods? Carl thought to himself. Though he doubted said tech was in fact by divine beings; having those that used the tech being called gods by a faction with space-faring ships meant it was probably very powerful technology. With that in mind, the General wondered if the Republic knew about this UNSC faction and the artifacts that the Covenant had in their disposal. It was somewhat odd of the Republic to be here and suddenly allying itself with this UNSC faction. He hoped the Sith Empire could gain from the retrieval of this tech, and maybe he'd rise higher as well. Carl doubted a lasting alliance could be made with a religious group like this, especially if the Sith got a hold of this technology themselves but it would be necessary to team up in order to halt the escape of this UNSC faction. His thoughts were but a brief few seconds when he spoke back to Fleetmaster Verdin, "Well it seems our enemy, the Republic, has allied itself with your thieves. We will offer what help we can with our fighter and bomber squadrons as our fleet tackles the Republic fleet. We will also send some of our boarding craft to help apprend your thieves. Send us priority targets so we can send a squad of bombers to disable them." Carl knew he was overstepping his authority, as he had no command over the vessels of the fleet but he figured that, if everything goes well, the Sith Lord won't get too upset. Besides, a temporary truce would increase their chances of success against the Republic and their friends, instead of it being a three-way battle in the Republic scum's favour.</s>

<|message|>Jennifer Antoinette Watters Felicia & Watters arrived at Khazo and his hostage's location from different directions within seconds of each other. "Watters don't fire on the person in the weird armor, he or she is from one of the ships that is helping shoot Covenant boarding craft." Felicia examined the situation, she didn't recognize the alien species before her. She extended the lightsaber in her left hand. Leaving her left one free to be used as a blaster. "You want to release the hostage and return everything you took." Watters watched in fascination of Felicia. "I think that is some form of mind control being employed." Taber thought aloud. Watters took aim with her assault rifle to kill the elite as soon as opening presented itself.</s>

<|description|>Itouchi Horiyama Character Name: Saito Souji Race: Human Age: 24 Personality: Itouchi is a somewhat reserved individual, as one might expect from a young Japanese man, however he has a particular sense of judgement. He is prone to making his own conclusions about other people, and while he may not act on those conclusions without further observation, he can break that rule should the person in question be of distaste to him. In particular, those who treat others horribly, who act in service of only themselves, or if they act childishly and waste people's time. Normally he would simply avoid them, but there are times when he may confront them if he believes that not doing so would seriously harm the group. Despite his rather strong sense of judgement, he's a friendly person, though perhaps due to being reserved, acts somewhat formally most of the time. There are times when around close friends he may act much less so, making more jokes and acting somewhat more carefree. Perhaps something one might notice is a particularly fondness for the Shinsengumi, and though it is not as obvious as it used to be, the leftovers of that more pronounced phase of his remain in his name. History: Itouchi like many young men graduating university, would find themselves applying for a company and then working there as a salaryman. He was rather fortunate to find a good company, having had a rather normal upbringing. It was this somewhat normal lifestyle combined with the more lonely lifestyle of a salaryman that perhaps pushed him towards Emerald Odyssey, seeking something a little more exciting between work days. He started playing roughly three or four years ago, and for the first few of those he became an accomplished raider, perhaps the very best for one of the expansions, but stopped after realizing the stress it was beginning to put him under. Though he is thankful for those years as it has shaped him into a more than competent player, both overall skill with the game, and when it comes to playing with other people which was a central component. From then on he normally just played the game with friends, only delving into difficult content on a casual basis. Class(es): * Samurai - [Katana] - A melee DPS class that utilizes a Katana. A swift and agile class boasting high critical rate and critical damage that aims to move through droves of enemies with very few strokes of the blade. As a drawback, their damage if they do not land a precise strike would be more than underwhelming, and defensive capabilities are nearly none, preferring to avoid blocking with their weapon. They have access to perhaps the fastest set of weapon skills called Battoujutsu, where the samurai may resheathe their weapon, gathering up their focus and spiritual energy before unleashing it in an impressive display of blinding speed. * Kagemusha - [Nodachi] - Meaning "shadow warrior", a tank class that utilizes a Nodachi. In particular they make use of shadowy decoys to gain the attention of the enemy and even confuse them, as well as creating veils of shadow over their allies in order to hide them or guard them from attack. Every shadow generated costs a portion of the Kagemusha's health pool, however should these decoys slay enemies or deal sufficient damage, they can return to the Kagemusha to restore their health. * Ashigaru - [Matchlock Firearms] - A ranged DPS class that utilizes matchlock firearms. Though it has a low firing rate compared to many if not all ranged classes, it boasts high damage per shot, and the highest critical damage of ranged classes. Despite being a ranged DPS class, it is frequently seen fighting in close quarters, only retreating to fire off their fatal shots. The Ashigaru also use matchlock handguns in these situations, with skills based around evasion and breaking armor. This class is also known to be a popular secondary, as the handguns can be used alongside any weapon that can be wielded with one hand. Non-Combat * Blacksmith - Though he doesn't delve a lot into crafting, he found himself making use of blacksmith frequently to maintain his weapons. He can craft new ones too, but for some reason the best weapons he can craft are all for his classes. Blacksmith as a profession is quite popular as people need or want new shiny gear all the time, and while he is not a reputed crafter, the katana that he can craft are of top quality... And nothing else. Other: * His character name Saito Souji is a combination of Hajime Saito and Okita Souji. * Kagemusha refers to a political term coined during the Sengoku period meaning "shadow warrior", and means to refer to body doubles, thus the protective nature of the class. * The coat he wears is obtained from PvP, and was a limited run at the time. Very few players have it. * He has a small player home in the eastern region.</s> <|message|>Sunohara Ryou Sunohara Ryou With maintenance all but finished and the newest expansion pack pre-downloaded, Ryou was more than ready to dive into Emerald Odyssey and start streaming. He had made sure that his setup was in perfect order the night before—triple-checked it, even—which left him precious little to worry about now. With a few people buzzing about in the pre-stream lobby, the young man was more than ready to greet his viewers and dive into the new content with everyone. The amount of congestion the servers had to face on patch day was oddly absent, though—a fact that struck Ryou as odd, but one that he chose not to question. After all, looking this sort of gift horse in the mouth was a bit rude, especially when it was most certaily in his favor. But as he moved to log in, his character selected and the loading splash screen appeared on his monitor... White. His vision was overwhelmed in an instant by something far beyond what any sort of monitor could produce normally. There was no time to react or respond, and before he could even make a single sound in response—— Shokatsu YuAluvera — Silverfield Inn "...Eh?" Blinding though that all-consuming white had been, the young man found that both it and any aftereffects that it might have left were nowhere to be found. While that might have been reason to breathe easy, it took no more than a few passing seconds for him to realize that something was most definitely wrong. After all, his computer and everything around it had been replaced by a simple wooden desk, and his room far less... 'Modern' than he last remembered. Though that oddity was at the forefront of his mind, nothing had truly quite processed yet—not until he got up and looked out the window. It was the middle of the afternoon when he had logged on, but with the amount of sunlight streaming through past the curtains, it felt more like early morning instead. Of course, even a single glance outside the window would cause things to start falling into place. He had read enough stories to understand what had happened, and though he was still unaware of exactly why something like this had happened, it was almost undeniable that the world outside was undoubtedly a locale he was incredibly familiar with despite not being anywhere in Japan—or on Earth, for that matter. "This has to be a joke, right?" Though still somewhat in denial despite how his voice sounded slightly off, Ryou glanced around once before walking into the washroom, clinging onto some faint hope that this was all some sort of last-moment fever dream. But when he splashed water on his face and glanced at himself in the mirror, that hope, too, came crashing down. After all, it was not the face of Sunohara Ryou looking at him, but that of Shokatsu Yu, his character. "...I guess not." Of course, it was not panic that overtook him immediately after; with a few deep breaths, Yu had shaken at least some of the chaos running through his head as he began to consider the implications of what his current position was. After all, with isekai settings having become so commonplace, it wasn't as if he was left without any direction to center his thoughts. "So I'm in the world of the game as the character I main. There was no indication of what the cause was, nor what will get me to return immediately..." he muttered to himself, flicking the water off of his face as he left the washroom, "...Which means that the first thing to determine is whether or not I'm the only one in this world now." Centered though his words may have been, though, Yu could feel his heart pounding as he promptly left the room and the inn proper; whether it was out of excitement or fear, even he couldn't quite tell. --- Aluvera — City Streets Clean though the air on the streets of Aluvera were (or, well, as clean as you could expect), the state of the actual city seemed to be... Less than orderly. There was nothing like rioting or havoc on the streets, but the amount of people clearly trying to process the situation was more than Yu could count. In this case, though, that was probably a good thing; after all, that meant that he wasn't alone here. The grander implications of that soon crossed his mind, though, and before long, Yu found himself walking through the city, trying to find someone—anyone—that he knew among the crowd. All the while, of course, the young man began to half-awkwardly fiddle with the empty air with his right hand, hoping that at least some part of the game beyond his current personage was carried over. After all, finding something as basic as an inventory or friends list would be astronomically helpful at a time like this...</s> <|message|>Takeyama Matsuo The fact that the servers were so clear was strange. Matsuo hadn't expected that. He'd managed to set aside time to try out the new expansion, but he really hadn't expected to be able to log in so easily. Much stranger, however, was the flash of white light that filled his vision almost as soon as the loading splash screen appeared. When it faded, the university student was in for a considerable shock. He was no longer in his room, in front of his computer. There was a wide street in front of him, blanked by various shops. Familiar shops. Shops from Emerald Odyssey. He'd logged off in the Aluvera shopping district. And now he appeared to be standing in it, surrounded by people going about their daily business. NPCs going about their daily business. Considerably more then filled the streets normally, but there was no mistaking his surroundings. "Am I dre-" Matsuo cut himself off, clutching at his throat. His skin felt soft and smooth. His neck felt slender. And his voice... That wasn't his voice. It was a girl's voice. That was absolutely a girl's voice. A cute, somewhat higher-pitched girl's voice. Shakily, the university student raised his hand harder, bringing both of them to his delicate chin and jaw, his soft cheeks, his dainty nose... running his hands through lengthy, silky blonde hair. This couldn't be real. Matsuo's heart was beating faster. His breathing was getting harder. "N-no way, right?" he asked himself, in that voice that didn't suit his real life self in the least, "I'm dreaming. I have to be. There's no way. I fell asleep waiting for the expansion to drop. That has to be it." Slowly, Matsuo located the nearest shopfront window. He had to see his reflection. He found one to the right side of the street. Looking back at him was the petite, slender figure of a small girl, with bright blue eyes and lengthy blonde hair. And pointed ears. In a blue Starlight Mage's outfit. Matsuo slowly placed a hand to her cheek and pinched herself. She didn't wake up. "No way no way no way no way," she repeated to herself multiple times, shaking, "This can't be real! I have... I have university to... how?! I... wh-what kind of isekai setup is this?! I-I'm Sefira?!" She took a step away from her reflection, her petite body shaking, blue eyes wide. There was no way something like this could ever happen. She felt certain of that. And yet this wasn't a dream. She felt pain. She felt a lot of things, the air on her skin, the ground beneath her feet, everything. There was no way it was a dream. Not only was Matsuo in Emerald Odyssey, but he had become his character, Sefira Sylvanbelle.</s>

<|message|>Itouchi Horiyama Saito Souji Aluvera - City Streets --- The sound of murmuring crowds both familiar and not so filled his ears, the bustling views of Aluvera were spread before him in a somewhat unfamiliar angle, and most importantly... He wasn't at home anymore. The immediate first thing he did in this situation was look around, before he'd start wandering. It would not be much longer than a dozen seconds before he'd notice the clothes he was in, what he was carrying, and then soon confirming his face in a glass window pane. He sighed, and then appeared to accept that this is what had indeed happened. He looked around and began to wander the city streets, and... It was possible this might have been some strange dream. There were many others who reacted in varying ways to what appeared to be the same situation, based on some exclamations. Characters he recognized as part of the city's population, NPCs, did not appear at all alarmed. Well, for the time being, he decided to get a handle on what was happening. By some miraculous feat, players were sent into Emerald Odyssey, all he remembered was logging in then looking away to grab his dinner. Not to mention, it seems people were now their characters too... He recalled hearing someone yell and reveal something to the extent that their character was not their gender. He looked down upon the two blades at his waist, so he is currently his main class Samurai. He was eager to see what this all meant for their skills and classes, but for now while he was here he should probably take stock of this situation as he continued to wander around Aluvera.</s>

<|description|>Sebastien Kemp Gender: male Age: 21 Power: Muscle memory/photographic memory. (Ex:: Can read a book and remember it word-for-word. Also can read muscle tensions in the body to detect how an enemy is going to attack, etc.) Appearance: 6'2 w/ average muscle build. Shaggy, straight, medium length black hair. Green eyes that seem brighter than average for a human being. Usually wears a five o'clock shadow. Dresses sloppily most of the time and wears a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses. Personality: Sebastien usually acts like he's in a fowl mood and more often than not, he is. He rarely takes time to enjoy life because it is difficult for him to do so lately, after joining the Department of External Affairs. Always suffers from chronic migraines, as it is triggered by any sudden surge of information; to counteract this he eats aspirin like candy and taught himself ways to ignore the things around him that triggers his photographic memory. Biography: At a young age, Sebastien loved to learn and was deemed a dork early on in his life, but that didn't matter to him. He always felt he was an old soul at heart and never gave in to the childish emotions of name-calling and such. Friends weren't even much of a priority to him because he was always focused on improving himself for the future, when his life would truly begin. His circle of friends were a small community that were so tight, he rarely allowed room for newcomers. His high school life was a rather lonely one since he was so keenly focused on being at his best to get in a good college. His childhood friend, Parker Morton (Nekoholic's character), was always planted firmly by his side and though he didn't understand his intellectual ambitions, he always supported his decisions nonetheless. They were practically polar opposites and to this day he still couldn't understand how their friendship existed, but he wasn't complaining considering he was really the only friend that he had. Once college came around, they parted ways as their career paths led them in different directions but they were still best friends even at a long distance. Sebastien got accepted into Princeton University and was going for his PhD to become a lawyer, but half way through getting his degree Parker informed him that he was joining External Affairs. He was shell-shocked at the news because he had never voiced his desires to enlist before. At first Sebastien was pissed at him because he knew how dangerous the program was and wanted to protect him, so put his PhD on hold and enlisted with him. For a man of knowledge, this was the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Once he was in, though...that was it. So began his new life as a DEA agent.</s> <|message|>Parker Morton Upon hearing his partner's cry, Parker rushed down the ladder. At the end of the alleyway, he could see Sebastien and a homeless-looking man facing each other off. Deliberately, he shouted out, "Sebastien, are you okay?" Immediately, the man yanked his head around; his arm then lifted, one finger on the trigger of his revolver. Though shaky, it remained aimed at Parker, who gave pause about five yards from the two. He then looked back at Sebastien, and said, "You must have had some sort of power to know what I am. So what about your friend here, huh? What can he do? I'm assuming he can't dodge a bullet." He then smirked, and in one fluid motion, fired. The bullet sunk into flesh, and Parker released a hiss of pain as he looked down at his stomach. Blood oozed from the wound, soaking through his coat until it began to dribble onto the ground. "That was just a warning shot. Now--what?" The man's eyes widened as he watched Parker take off his coat calmly, reaching through the tear in his shirt in order to dig his fingers into the wound. Though it was true that he could heal, bullets could be rather tricky in the future; his skin healed, but he couldn't just allow the bullet to stay in there and make a new home out of his intestines, now could he? "And there we go," said Parker cheerfully as he flicked the bullet onto the ground. He then looked back at the man, smiling. "I've been waiting to meet one of you for so long! And here you are! It's my third biggest dream come true!" He reached for the holster on his hip, taking out the semi-automatic pistol. "But I'm afraid I'm not here to make friends. What's that phrase? 'Shoot first, ask questions later?' Yes, that's what my superiors expect of me." He fumbled with the gun, brow furrowed in confusion. "What, boy? Don't know how to use a gun?" "Sebastien, how do you turn the safety off again?" Parker sighed.</s> <|message|>Sebastien Kemp "How did you graduate from training again?" Sebastien said, shaking his head. The guy raised his gun to shoot Parker again, but wasn't going to allow it; just because he could heal didn't mean he wanted to see his friend in pain. He threw his knife to the ground and reached into the back of his jacket to pull his own gun from his holster, taking aim. Now that he had the advantage over him and the guy lined up in his sights, he didn't know if he could take the shot. Utilizing your abilities was one thing, but he honestly didn't know if he was capable of murder; wasn't that part of his job description now, though? "Drop your weapon or I will blow a hole through the back of your skull!" he said in a demanding tone, gripping the gun with both hands to steady the aim; hopefully he didn't notice the shaking in his hands. "Drop the gun...drop the gun... There had never been a prisoner taken into custody before, but had the DEA even attempted to capture one alive?</s> <|message|>Parker Morton The man only grinned, the expression almost feral. He then said, "Drop my weapon? Boy, it's just as your friend said. 'Shoot first, ask questions later.'" He lined up Sebastien in his sights once more, finger itching to pull the trigger again. "Your incompetent partner doesn't know how to properly wield a gun and you are too cowardly to pull the trigger on yours, so I suppose it's my responsibility to take matters into my own hands. I wish you the best of luck in your next life." Just as he was about to fire, there was a flash of pain and then darkness. The corpse collapsed first onto his knees, and then fell to the side. Half of his head was just gone, the brain matter splattered on the ground and on the nearby walls. The other half was contorted into an agonized expression, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, as if the man was still in shock even after having lost awareness. "Are you okay, Sebastien?" Parker asked, rushing to his partner's side. Hastily, he checked for injuries, but thankfully, he found none. He then sighed and, before Sebastien had the chance to answer the first question, he inquired, "What happened? Why didn't you shoot him? He was going to shoot you, and you've never been the type to freeze up before. He would've killed you, Sebastien!"</s> <|message|>Sebastien Kemp Time seemed to freeze when the gun was trained on Sebastien, but he could find it in himself to pull the trigger to save his life...quite literally. The only thing he could do was stare into the eyes of the man knowing that he had every intention of killing him because the look in his eyes and the taut finger on the trigger had told him so. The loud pop of a gun going off made my heart freeze in my chest and even as he noted the half-missing face of the man, he thought that he'd been shot himself. As Parker rushed to his side, he didn't hear a word that came out of his mouth but read his lips, getting the general concept. Could he really admit that he had been too much of a coward to pull the trigger? Didn't that make him a liability and a danger to everyone on his team? If that gun had been aimed at Parker's head, would he have found the courage within himself to pull the trigger to save his best friend's life? "You were that close to death, Sebastien...your life ending at the end of that barrel...and you froze." The ringing in his ears of the blood rushing through them was beginning to fade as he took his time putting the gun back in its holster. Finally, he looked Parker in the eye and gave a grim smile. "I had faith that you would pull through in the end. It would have been selfish of me to not let you have the first kill since you wanted it so bad." Even Sebastien could hear the lie in his voice despite his mind screaming at him to believe the words. He quickly adverted his gaze, not able to stand the look Parker was giving. Still shell-shocked from the experience, Sebastien turned away from him in a daze.</s> <|message|>Parker Morton Parker considered Sebastien's words for a moment. He knew that Sebastien was lying; that dazed look in his eyes told him everything, considering that he still had his glasses on. Finally, though, he sighed and said, "Should we just head back to base now? Tell them it's done?" Perhaps it wouldn't be wise to push Sebastien about it--he already thought more than necessary, after all. It didn't mean that Parker didn't plan on eventually asking him about it, though; he trusted Sebastien more than anyone else, but he wouldn't be going on another mission with him until he was certain that he wouldn't just throw his life away on a whim like that.</s>

<|message|>Sebastien Kemp "Yes, let's head back. There's no need sticking around." Without waiting to see if Parker followed, he started making his way back towards the base. He took off his glasses and shoved them in the shirt pocket. He was thankful for the blurry haze that shrouded his vision. Almost immediately, the thoughts begun to slow down and became a dull presence in the back of his mind. The fact that he almost died also seemed to numb the thoughts as well. Once they were back at base, they turned in their mission report with Sebastien giving as few details as needed to their commander. They had passed their first test, which had served as an initiation into the department officially and as a token, they gave each agent a personal DEA patch that said they were tried and true in combat. Once they had finished the mission report, they turned on their heel to leave. "Kemp, mind staying in my office for a moment?" Commander Jones said. From his peripheral he could see him standing and Sebastien mentally cursed. He pivoted on his heel and turned around, standing at attention as he stared at the wall in front of him, staring just above the commander's head. "Sir." Jones stared at him for the longest, no doubt gauging Sebastien's expressions. He's been in this business for eleven years now, almost since the beginning of when this crisis had begun. "Your mission report was quite empty for someone who is so calculative," he begun. "In training, your reports were equal to that of a college thesis." "Is there a problem with that, sir?" Sebastien asked. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead and he wanted to swat at the trickle of sweat that tickled his temple but refrained from doing so. He paused for a moment. "Look at me, Kemp." With a deep breath, Sebastien finally made eye contact with him. "Did the mission go according to plan as the reports suggest?" Jones asked, his tone growing more serious. "Yes, sir; the mission was a full success with no setbacks." It was hard to look him in the eye without saying more; he wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the exact truth, either. "Did something happen that should be brought to light, agent?" "No, sir. The reports were-" "I can tell you are hiding something and you will not be permitted to leave this room until you speak." He felt backed into a corner and honestly didn't know what to say. This was the biggest worry he thought of when he first walked into this room and had to say something to throw him off from his cowardice for the fear that he would be kicked from the department for not being able to perform his duties accordingly. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "It was just shocking experience, is all. Seeing the blood and the head blown apart...it was something that I had only seen in movies and wasn't prepared to witness for myself. Training hadn't taught us that aspect of the fight, sir." To his relief, Jones nodded his head as if he believed that story and seemed to relax. "That is to be expected on your first kill. Just remember, though, the first kill is always the most difficult. This is war, and no one ever said that it was pretty." "Yes, sir." "It will become a normal occurrence to you soon enough. Just remember, the more blood of theirs that you see means the less blood of your own men. You are dismissed." "Sir." Sebastien waited until he was outside the building until he released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Sweat had thoroughly soaked into his shirt and he had to pull the leather jacket off to cool himself. God, what would have happened if he'd learned that he completely froze up in combat? Would they have simply kicked him out or would they have done worse? There were stories that circulated about what happened to defected agents and he wasn't bound to find out if any of the rumors were true...</s>

<|description|>Satoshi A white female ninja with blonde hair and hazel green eyes. She stands 5'5" tall and weighs around 120 pounds. As a straight female submissive character, she always tries her best to protect her father and the ninja clan from their enemies at all times. Satoshi acts like a true ninja fighter, demonstrating her skills in combat and stealth.</s> <|description|>Vincent A man with a mysterious and intriguing appearance. He carries an air of loneliness and has a past filled with dangerous adventures, suggesting he may have seen some darker sides of life. His personality is marked by his concern for others, especially Satoshi, indicating deep feelings that he struggles to express or understand. Despite his aloof demeanor, Vincent shows remarkable loyalty and protectiveness towards those close to him.</s> <|narrator|>A white female ninja, Satoshi, wakes up in Shinra mansion after recovering from a knee injury. She is unsure who's watching over her but suspects it might be Vincent Valentine, her former ally during their travels with Cloud and the others. She falls asleep again, having vivid dreams about her past. Meanwhile, Vincent, also present at the mansion, senses Satoshi's presence and keeps vigil over her while she sleeps. He helps ease her fear when she wakes up from a nightmare involving her childhood traumas and the death of her parents by Sephiroth. The two discuss the new threat they face now---Kadja---and how to deal with it. Satoshi tries to remember what's engraved on a locket but fails.</s> <|message|>Satoshi The setting takes place at the Niblehim inn where a female white ninja, named Satoshi, is recovering from a bad cut on her right knee and she is sound asleep on an inn bed. She is out like a light and having some dreams about when she traveled with Cloud and the others. That's when she meets someone named Vincent Valentine. She wonders how he is doing nowadays. Slowly waking up from her sleep, Satoshi climbs out of her inn room bed and leaves her inn room. She walks downstairs to the inn lobby room and leaves the inn. She heads towards Shinra mansion and pushes open the door. She enters into the guest room of the Shinra Mansion and lays down on the guest room bed. Closing her eyes, she wonders if Vincent Valentine can sense her presence like he did once before when they traveled with Cloud and the others. She was out like a light again and enjoyed her sleep. It's about 9pm in the late evening on a rainy and stormy night. Name: Satoshi Gender: Straight Female Sexuality: Very sub-missive. Age: A year younger than Vincent Valentine. Race: Human white ninja girl. Height: 5'5 Weight: 120 lbs. Hair: Blonde instead of white. Eyes: Hazel green instead of blue. Weapon: Ninja sword and knows how to throw other weapons. Act: Satoshi acts like a true ninja fighter and always tries her best to protect her father and the ninja clan from their enemies at all times. She is submissive only. This is what Satoshi looks like.</s> <|message|>Vincent Vincent Valentine, in other words, always tried to be more of a lone wolf than a group member, and for a while he tagged along with Cloud Strife. Someone he got to know rather well during this duration of time, which was cut short after what seemed to be the defeat of Sephiroth. Unfortunately, he had not managed to watch and make certain. After all, the others probably would not have been able to tell if he was definitely gone completely or not, such a person with such power... it was most likely not his defeat but instead just more time to plan a better plan. Yet for now, while peace was occurring, he was taking advantage of it. He liked to remember the times that he traveled with Cloud, but he was glad it was over. The traveling grew tiresome, and they usually had to stop some sort of trouble time after time again. It was a never-ending attempt to make everything work perfectly... well, that was apparently the goal anyhow, but nothing could ever be perfect. So here he was at a familiar place, so familiar in fact that the name was almost like an imprint on his hand. It was his favorite place to stay, and anyone there knew his name or at least what he had done with Cloud and Tifa's group. Which all separated now that the world did not need them anymore. Nibleheim inn, it had housed him many times, and this was no exception, although something seemed more familiar... someone familiar actually. It could possibly be Satoshi, but this he did not know for sure. Slowly, he walked towards where he thought the presence was coming from, which started to grow closer to Shinra mansion. Not his favorite place in the world... bad memories were what Shinra were... and still are... well, to him anyhow. Yet he followed the presence and then darted up the side of the building, grabbing onto the ledge and pulling himself up to the spare room balcony before spotting the person whom he thought was here. Satoshi... what is she doing here? She looks hurt... maybe I should stay around to make sure she does not get attacked by anything whilst recovering.</s> <|message|>Satoshi Satoshi continued on sleeping away, and she loved being away from Nibleheim, because she knew that eventually Kadja would track her down once again, and his own servants were a bit of a threat to the human race. She sighed in her sleep. She felt a bit of a draft coming from the side balcony window, and she slowly woke up from her sleep. She scanned the area very carefully before walking around the room and heading towards the side balcony window. She looked out of it and saw a very familiar person looking at her, but she couldn't remember who it was. When Kadja had sneak-attacked her from behind, she had been hurt and banged her head on a tree branch, causing her to lose some of her memories. She wished that she could remember more of her life, but she sighed.</s> <|message|>Vincent Vincent had no idea that Satoshi actually had no clue who he was; he was just a familiar face. But what she was to him was much more...something felt special between the two. It wasn't like anything he had felt before, and so when he had disappeared away from the group, he actually worried a little about her. And yet here she was, but her memory seemed weakened. Slowly, he moved closer. "Just rest, Satoshi," he said. "You look like you need it. You have an odd look on your face like you think you know me, but I'm not sure that you actually do." He paused for a moment. "Maybe when you awaken, you will realize who I am. But please, rest." Vincent quickly moved to the window, shutting it and drawing the large curtain to the side. "If you don't remember, I'll try to help you overcome whatever happened," he continued. "Don't worry, no one will hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."</s> <|message|>Satoshi "As you wish, I'll continue on resting like you want me to rest and let my wound fully heal up," Satoshi said to him. "You look so familiar to me and I have no idea why I decided to come here to sleep in the guest room," he continued. "If only I could remember... oh well." She sighed and lay back down on the bed. "Please watch over me while I sleep again, kind sir," she asked. "And thank you for everything." Satoshi had a bad feeling that Kadja would eventually track her down again. She sighed and said to him, "I believe that you'll help me remember you more clearly, and I know that you'll make sure that no one ever hurts me ever again. I honestly do believe you, and is your name by any chance Vincent Valentine?" She paused before continuing. "I have heard stories from Cloud about you, and that's how I know your name, thanks to Cloud."</s> <|message|>Vincent Vince was a little relieved to at least notice she knew his name now... Yet the rest of her memory seemed vague, if not non-existent, from the events that had occurred during the time the two had been together in the main group. Although it was going to be more interesting now, with just the two of them instead. "That is me," he said, "and I will stay to guard you. It's similar to what I used to do for you; we used to look out for each other. Most of the time it was me saving you, and sometimes Cloud would step in, but it was just generally me." "Shame you can't remember what happened during the journey," he continued. "Then again, I may tell you of a short summary when you wake up."</s> <|message|>Satoshi "Okay, Vincent," Satoshi said to him. "I need my rest now, and I sort of do remember that you saved me from being captured by the Turks. That's good, because you'll guard me and make sure no one harms me ever again, Vincent. I'll see you later when I'm fully awake. Goodnight now, Vincent." Satoshi slowly closed her eyes and fell back asleep once again. She wondered what the morning would bring for them both, and she pulled the sheets and blanket over herself before drifting off into a deep slumber. However, after only five hours, she suddenly woke up from her sleep, screaming. It was due to a nightmare about her past as a child, which left her feeling quite shaken.</s> <|message|>Vincent Vincent watched as Satoshi fell asleep, and sighed. His mind recalled all the events that had taken place. He had a feeling it wasn't exactly safe here, which was why he hadn't left the room to explore further. Instead, he decided to keep watch over her - for one, she was at her most vulnerable; for another, she was the only one who had managed to elicit feelings from him that he couldn't quite describe. And well, he had smiled once...and Satoshi was the only one who had managed those feats. After ensuring that the room had no hidden entrances, Vincent stepped outside and leaned against the wall. Some time passed, and he took a few deep breaths. His eyes roamed around, searching for any signs of danger. Just as he was about to consider leaving and exploring the mansion, he heard her scream. Dashing back into the room, he opened the door with his gun drawn, ready for anything. But upon seeing that she just seemed to have had a nightmare, he lowered his weapon and approached the bed. "Satoshi," he said, concern evident in his voice. "You seem to be shaking. What's wrong?" He sat down in the chair near the bed, watching her closely. Whatever had freaked her out, it must have been bad.</s> <|message|>Satoshi Satoshi looked at Vincent and said, "I just had a nightmare about my childhood past and can't quite remember what the nightmare was about. If I knew what the nightmare was about, I'd tell you about it. But I just can't remember anything at all, sorry." She stopped herself from shaking and hated it when she shook upon waking from a nightmare. She tried her best to remember what the nightmare was about, but nothing came to mind at all. She sighed and added, "The only thing I can remember about my nightmare is that someone killed both of my parents and I didn't know who killed them. And that same person tried to kill me, but someone defeated the person who tried to kill me after they killed my parents. And I don't know who the other person was that saved my life. That's all I can remember in my nightmare, Vincent. But I'm okay now, and I'm just a bit too scared to go back to sleep."</s> <|message|>Vincent Vincent was a little concerned, but at least it was something she couldn't remember... Sometimes that made things worse, but he found forgetting his nightmares was the best approach to any that cropped up. That way he would then be able to sometimes sleep peacefully without having to worry at all. "Hmm," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "You must be speaking about Sephiroth. I think I do recall you telling me when we met that he murdered your parents... And he did try to kill us all... In fact, he succeeded in killing one of our members." A soft sigh escaped him. "You probably don't remember her, though. Best you don't know of her, actually."</s>

<|message|>Satoshi Satoshi said to Vincent, "I know who Sephiroth killed; he killed Aries. She was in the group and went to the Forgotten City to find out about ancient things. I knew her because we met each other when we were kids in the Sector 7 slums. That's how I know Aries, and yes, I did tell you that Sephiroth killed my parents, and you were the first one who found me hiding from the others in the group. I was a bit scared of Barret and Red XIII, those were the only two I was afraid of." Slowly remembering some of the group names, Satoshi said to Vincent, "I'm actually glad that you found me again, but there is a new threat that has risen once again. The new bad guy name is Kadja, and he is more dangerous than Sephiroth was. He has tried to kill me more than once, and I have escaped from his grasp many times, but I'm not sure if I will ever escape from Kadja's grasp again. What should we do, Vincent?" She was a bit worried about this and hated getting Vincent worried as well. She fiddled with a locket of some kind and looked at the back of it, trying to decipher what was engraved on the back, but couldn't quite figure it out. She sighed.</s>

<|description|>Rebekah Green Allias: None as yet. She's not a big fan of nicknames in general. Gender: Female Age: 19 Parents: Nobody important (abilities come from a more distant ancestor) Appearance: Rebekah Green is most often seen around the academy wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It is simple, comfortable, practical clothing, which suits her just fine. She is a smidge above average height, with blue eyes, light skin and mid-length blonde hair she keeps tied back in a pony-tail. She sometimes wonders if her nose isn't a bit too long. Personality: Rebekah is quiet and reserved in most situations, preferring to listen and observe than to speak. When she does speak, it is usually in direct answer to a problem that needs solving or to suggest an action. She doesn't do well with small-talk and doesn't share her emotions easily, except with those she is closest to and trusts without exception. On the other hand, she will happily go on and on about an interesting idea and enjoys being challenged in this way. She tries to view the world as rationally as possible, and solve problems using logic and reason. She values knowledge and curiosity and holds tightly to the idea that the best superhero is not the one with the strongest power, but the one who knows when and how to apply their abilities to get the best result. Her personality would be an I-N-T-J on the Myers Briggs Type Indicator. Powers and Abilities: Rebekah can change the size of objects around her, growing or shrinking them into perfect scale replicas of themselves. The ability cannot be used on living beings. She is also able to teleport to anywhere she can see. She alters the volume of an object without altering its density or composition, so the things she changes become perfect scale replicas of themselves. This means that their mass will change with the size, roughly in line with the cube of the scale change. Touch is not required. At the very small scale, the power does not work to grow/shrink molecules and atoms, because that would require either some serious screwing with fundamental forces or make everything she touches into a nuclear bomb. Rather, her power just creates a bigger pile of the type of atom/molecule that was already there. This means that stuff she has grown will still have all the same physical and chemical properties as a different sized version of itself that had been made by normal means. The cutoff level between macroscopic growing and microscopic duplication is at about the size of living cells. Bio: Rebekah comes from a family of non-supers, so far as she can tell. Her great-grandmother might have been where she got the magical genes, but the stories about her are pretty murky and often don't agree. She grew up in New Zealand, in a smallish town near to a national park. Early on in life, she developed a love of books and reading, devouring both fact and fiction alike. A little later on, when she entered her teenage years, she continued with this, though the books gained a rival - the outdoors. Mountain biking, kayaking and walking all held strong appeal for her, leading to a few exciting trips to lakes, mountains and rivers. Rebekah's powers first manifested shortly before her 16th birthday, while walking the last section of the Tongariro crossing. The school group were all tired, hungry, getting damp from the grey mist that had descended over the mountain, and generally ready for the day's exertion to be over. Coming over the last rise and getting a view of the shuttle waiting at the end of the track, Rebekah suddenly disappeared from among the group to find herself standing up against the white van's windows. Shocked at this sudden transition, she jumped, yelled and tripped over backwards. Her fall would have landed her head on a large rock, but it shrunk down to the size of a pebble underneath her, leading to a much more gentle landing. By the time the rest of the group had caught up, it became clear what had happened and Rebekah was outed as a superhuman. After finishing school, Rebekah travelled to Super School, the equivalent institution to the Academy for superhumans from Oceania. The school is hidden away from the rest of the world on a small volcanic island out in the Pacific Ocean. Here, students are grouped into small teams with complementary abilities in order to teach teamwork and cooperation, emphasise that all abilities have a valuable place and, most importantly, give young supers a tight-knit group of friends to belong to and support each other from the start of their training. This turned out really well for Rebekah, and, together with her team, she learned to control her powers and make use of them in a wide variety of situations. She particularly enjoyed lessons from Dr. Arcturus, a self-transmuting super-scientist. Thanks to his tutelage and their own hard work, the team was able to gain third place in Super School's Tournament of Heroes at the end of their first year. Around half way into her second year, Rebekah had a day off from classes and was using the time to explore the wilder parts of the island. The volcano itself hadn't been active for a long time, but past activity had left a large network of tunnels and caves reaching beneath much of the island. On this particular day, Rebekah was well into the cave system when she noticed something she hadn't before: a small gap in the rock, not much wider than her finger. Curiosity piqued, she entered the cave on the other side and followed it down for a long way. As she went, she began to see signs that these caves were not entirely natural - there were signs of human use. The caves ended in a vertical shaft, with a narrow steel ladder set into the bare rock. She followed it down, and found herself in a dim, square room. Set into the far wall was a single stasis tube with a man inside. He had electrodes strapped all over his body, over the remains of an old, torn super suit. Naturally, she freed the trapped man. As he emerged from the tank and began to tear the wires away from his skin, the room's one lightbulb guttered out and arc of lightning leapt from his body, shattering the stasis tube. As more and more of the electrodes fell away, the lightning storm around the man grew stronger, until it seemed he was a living arc of electricity. A bolt jumped towards Rebekah, and she blacked out. The man she had freed was Power Surge, an insane villain who had been captured a century ago, but in order to keep him contained, it had been necessary to continuously draw off the electricity from his body. In order to kill two birds with one stone, the founders of Super School had decided to use him as the power source for their island. Now freed, he blasted his way up and out of the mountain, and began to attack the school, which was reeling from the sudden blackout of all of their equipment. Power surge caused a great deal of destruction before Dr. Arcturus rallied a gang of students to defeat the villain, though the professor was badly wounded in the process. In the wake of all this, Rebekah Green was found to be responsible for unleashing Power Surge upon the school. Since her actions had been very ill-advised but not ultimately malicious, she was spared the usual penalties for freeing a supervillain and causing widespread destruction. Still, many students had been hurt or had property destroyed in the attack, and teenagers are rarely so kind and forgiving. Rebekah was bullied mercilessly in the days after the attack, and for this reason and others it was decided that she would be expelled from Super School for tampering with its power source. She would, however, be afforded the opportunity to apply to a different institution to continue training as a superhero. This led her to a move across the world, and to the Academy of Heroes and Villains, where she will be starting at the beginning of the new year. Other Skills: Rebekah has some pretty good skills in the outdoors, and has good fitness and endurance to go with them. She is reasonably proficient in self-defence, but unlike some of her fellow students, her talent is nothing special. Where she does excel physically is in her reflexes and reactions, based on her senses which are pretty sharp as well, when she cares to pay attention. Rebekah has always enjoyed school and done well in her non-super education, so she has a solid grounding in a number of subject areas, particularly the sciences. Weaknesses: Rebekah can get hurt just as easily as a normal human being. Her abilities don't give her any extra toughness, strength, resistances, healing, or anything like that. Her teleportation is only within her line of sight, which limits its usefulness when it's dark or her vision is otherwise obscured. She can take one other person with her or an equivalent amount of material, but no more. She really beats herself up over the Power Surge incident. It was a big hit to her confidence and she really misses the close friends she made at Super School. She wishes she could play a musical instrument, but has never learned. Other: Rebekah's name is Rebekah, and she would prefer it if others didn't insist on shortening it to Bekky, Bekka, Bex or any other variation they might come up with. It's a perfectly good name already, and it doesn't need shortening, thank you very much! This is something of a pet peeve for her.</s> <|message|>Tsura (Zora) Aniela Eisenhardt Eisenhardt Picture It was while speaking to Rebekah that the area around her was plunged into darkness which caused Tsura to react. Her first choice was to go into Infrared but as it was associated with heat decided to lower her reflective frequency below 400 nanometers into the ultra violet so that she wouldn't blind anyone. Then she quickly increased her candela till her radiant intensity went well past 2 million. To those around her that couldn't see into the ultra violet nothing happened but for those that could the sweet young blonde had become a figure of pure light that burned with intensity as bright as two noonday suns. This was not an attack but her most powerful active sense and it revealed a world in chaos as far as visible light was concerned; it was an illusion. Internally Tsura giggled as she recalled her mother's annoyance and amusement when she had discovered her daughter to see the world as layers of reflected light. To Tsura illusions made those layers to either shimmer at the edges or appear as if reflected through turbulent clear water. So she grows brighter in the visible light spectrum testing the illusion's ability to adapt to vulgar alteration as she glows as brightly as a stage spot and pulses in rapid flashes of color. "Sure it's a roll of the dice but you can't win if you don't play!" she thinks before moving close to Rebekah # Flaw Notice Intangible Energy Form Tsura can't hear or speak while in energy form. She is still effected by telepathy</s> <|message|>Kijani Ryane Jin Ifriti Jin was about to respond to her sister, when everything went dark and she heard a strange voice. "Oh, holy hell, what's all this shit?!" She could practically hear her father admonishing her for swearing. But it had been so sudden that she couldn't help herself. "Naka, are you okay?" She reached out for her sister's hand. Part of her wasn't sure that this wasn't some kind of test on the school's part. "Hang on, let me see if I can't get some light in here-" She dug around for her bag and pulled out her cell, turning on the flashlight app. However, it didn't seem to be working. The phone's light was turned to maximum brightness, but she couldn't see it at all. "Ehh? That's weird. The phone's on, but the light's broken." Could something have ruined her phone that fast? -- Kijani Ryane Kijani rolled her eyes when the chaos started. One day. Just one day of peace, and some quality snuggle time with Connor. Was that such a tall order? She had to admit that it was a little nerve wracking, but seeing Connor calm and unshaken made her feel better almost immediately. He was taking charge of the situation. That was new- and she had to admit, she rather liked the idea of Connor as a leader. "Just an illusion, hm?" Kijani shut her eyes, trying to will up a few mental shielding exercises she'd been taught. Her grandmother was nothing if not thorough... though thanking Amanda Waller for anything made Kijani feel like she could vomit. Even so, she immediately started to recite poetry in her head, filling her mind and trying to block out whatever was invading it. -- Kassandra Keigwan Kassy had to admit, she wasn't expecting anything like this at all. On the first day, some kind of attack? Then again, wouldn't it make sense to take advantage of the new students who would already be confused? She was one of them, after all. She could hear someone laughing, but she didn't understand why everyone seemed to be panicking. It was as if they were all blinded. But she could see just fine... Kassy blinked a few times, suddenly understanding. Before she could speak, someone else did. A boy was confirming that it was all just an illusion. That made sense - being an illusionist herself, it was a lot harder to trick her. Kassy nervously cleared her throat and spoke up. "If anyone needs help, let me know! I've got illusions of my own - this trick isn't fooling me and I can see fine!" It wouldn't be too hard to break someone else's magic, would it?</s>

<|message|>Rebekah Green A darkness descended over the room, and once again, she torch couldn't pierce it. Rebekah's first thought was of the power Mimic had used during their bout in the training room. This didn't seem to be him, but the person he had copied perhaps? Did one of the students in the room have shadow-based abilities, a sort of opposite to Tsura? A calm and authoritative voice spoke up, declaring that the darkness was an illusion. Sure enough, once she doubted its existence, the obscuring cloud lifted, and the room became visible once more. She could see how the rest of the students were reacting. Some, like her, had reached for light sources, others were standing up to fight, and the third main group had grabbed for support, either from their desks or each other. But nearest to her, Tsura was in a class of her own. She sure hadn't been kidding when she said she burned sun-bright. The girl-shaped silhouette shone with such a radiance that it was difficult to look at her for too long, except to note how fast she was cycling through colours. Standing as near as she was, Rebekah could feel the light on her skin, as if it were a very hot summer's day and her tanning was beginning to move towards getting a sunburn. The elemental suddenly lurched toward her, and she felt it on her face before anything else, with an near-instant tightening of her skin. She shied back with eyes squinting nearly shut, trying to see in the brightness. "Whoa, hold back there!" she called. "Dial it down, or you'll give the whole room a sunburn!"</s>

<|description|>Olu Bumdoa Character Role: Jedi Master Character Age: 52 Character Gender: Male Character Appearance: Olu, whom is a bit old for his species, is a slightly stocky Nautolan Jedi that stands at 5'9. His tendrils are not much longer than any other Nautolan. In fact, there is really nothing special to him. He is your average green skinned Nautolan, wearing sleeveless Jedi Master robes, ragged vestiments, and footwraps instead of shoes. The only thing he carries are his green lightsaber, and a few other essentials clipped to his belt. He also wears a ruby circlet over his forehead. pre05.deviantart.net/398f/th/pre/i/201.. Character Personality: Olu can be seen as one of the more passive Jedi Masters. He packs an incredible sense of humor, and manages to lighten up even the most stressful of situations. Despite his joyful attitude, he can discern when it is that he needs to be serious and when he can joke around. It is his expertise in analyzing situations that makes him a revered Jedi Master. Character Gear: Jedi robes, lightsaber, credits and rations clipped to his belt. Simple. Character skills: Lightsaber duelist(Juyo, Form VII, and Shien, Form V), Advanced force competency. Expert tactician. Character Backstory: We'll keep it simple. Like any other Jedi, Olu was plucked from birth and subjected to his Jedi training. Proving to be quite adept in the force, Olu grew up to be a skilled Jedi consular, constructing his green lightsaber. Since then he has spent his days as a Jedi performing negotiation and ambassador operations, his lightsaber not requiring much use. Now, Olu seeks to investigate the multiple abnormal rifts sprouting all across the galaxy.</s> <|message|>Wrenu Tipolan Wrenu Tipolan Listening to his master and giving a small wave at R5 and then a smile and a short bow at the other Master, Wrenu grinned when got told of the ship he was going on. "Mmm, alright Master, I'll get everything ready now!" He then moved to hurry up the ramp into the ship and gleefully examined everywhere he could on board of the vessel, leaving them to talk if they so wanted. He explored the vessel and was very excited to have it all to himself. He eventually got up to the cabin and started to prep the large vessel for launch.</s> <|message|>Jedi Master Greggory Wick Jedi Master Greggory Wick "Let us be off then." Master Wick said as his padawan ran into the cruiser. Giving a quick nod to Bumdoa Greggory stepped onto and then into his Delta-7, the cockpit sealing itself as the jedi strapped himself in and put on a headset that would allow him to communicate with both Olu and the bridge of the diplomatic ship. Flipping a few switches and looking over the monitors soon the white and red starfighter was lifted into the air, easing out of the hanger to undoubtedly soon be followed by the other two ships. Speaking into the headset the Jedi asked, "Radio check?"</s> <|message|>Wrenu Tipolan Wrenu Tipolan "Hear you loud and clear Master, I'm all set." he said as he sat down and got ready to launch. He wondering if there were any droids aboard the ship...he'd have to explore that possibility again later.</s> <|message|>Owen Magnus Admiral Pantera Faye Faye muses to herself for a moment, twirling her magnum out of its holster and tapping on the holotable with its map display. "If it is a Forerunner Shield World, then either we are pretty safe until we get closer...or we are in deep trouble, which we would have seen by now. This is an ONI ship, it's supposed to be hard to see on sensors, which means we might have not even been noticed. And we can't stay at red alert forever..." Fireteam Ra returns to the bridge, well armed this time. Admiral Faye pretends not to notice them for a moment as she activates the ship intercom. "Stand down to yellow alert, all stations report combat readiness." She finally turns around to look at the Spartans. "Well, you heard me, get that rocket launcher off my bridge! What are we doing, fighting a space war through the window? Shoo! Savaymin, keep staying. And someone shut up those alarms!"</s> <|message|>Olu Bumdoa Olu Bumdoa "Let us obe off then." Greggory's words triggered the Nautolan. "Race you to it!" Olu exclaimed, bolting towards his starfighter. Closing the distance, he leapt towards the open cockpit, only to facepalm righ on cockpit's glass, R7 having shut the cockpit as soon as Olu was about to land inside. Sliding off the glass with a squidging noise, the Nautolan instantly propped himself up. "R7! Get your nails together! You almost killed me!" Olu yelled at his droid whom had opened the cockpit once more, only to shut it down once again as Olu came close to it. "R7, this is a race! No time for jokes!" This caused the droid to open the glaas once more, only to once more close it as Olu was about to get in. With R7 beeping out a robotic cackle, the glass roof finally opened completely, and Olu quickly leaped in, strapping himself in tight and equipping the headset. He flicked and pushed certain buttons, immediately taking off. Exiting the hangar, he directed the starfighter towards the direction of the anomaly. "I've entered the coordinates. Take us into hyperspace, R7." Olu grinned, turning the knob on his headset. "I wonder if you're still as slow as a Hutt, Master Wick.~" Clicking his microphone off, Olu felt his ship suddenly jerk. "R7! I said Hyperspace! Not reverse thrusters!" With that, the droid set off into another robotic cackle, leaving Olu to fret manually with the controls.</s> <|message|>Jedi Master Greggory Wick Jedi Master Greggory Wick No sooner did Greggory call for a radio check did he hear Master Bumdoa wailing at his droid, "R7! I said Hyperspace! Not reverse thrusters!" Chuckling Master Wick peered over to a screen and said, "Thank you R5, for being an obedient astromech." to which the droid let out a few quiet clicks and some text appeared on the screen. Then speaking into his radio Greggory said, "Well Master Bumdoa, while I may be slow, at the very least I'm moving forward. Don't be too far behind Wrenu. R5, if you may." Whirling away R5-G5 assisted Greggory with docking into the hyperspace-ring required by Jedi fighters, and then calculating the jump that would send them to the anomaly. In but a few moments Greggory's ship was gone into hyperspace.</s> <|message|>Owen Magnus Jedi Team GM post The two Jedi Starfighters dock with their hyperspace rings...with varying degrees of smoothness...and both they and the Jedi cruiser flash into hyperspace with the cruiser pilots chuckling to each other and going into hyperspace at virtually the same moment as Master Bumdoa, since they didn't have to worry about a hyperspace ring. A few parsecs off, near the UNSC Solar Winds, they drop out of hyperspace with Master Wick a few seconds ahead of the others, about twelve hundred kilometers behind the foreign ship at about a 145 degree angle, and pointing the opposite direction. The Solar Wind's sensor stealth capabilities are enough to slightly confuse the Jedi ship's sensors...but it isn't exactly trying to be quiet at the moment and is cruising at top speed, and is thus detectable. And of course to anyone who looks out a window, once they get close enough that the massive blue engines don't look like part of the local starfield. UNSC Solar Winds The unknown ships dropping out of FTL travel...which bears none of the typical signs and Hawking radiation effect of slipspace...are immediately picked up on the Solar Wind's sensors, a fact which Magellan wastes no time in reporting. "Admiral, three ships just appeared on our sensors. They seem to have dropped out of FTL travel via some non-slipspace means behind us. Two small fighter-class craft and one larger one...the size of a small frigate, on an initial vector towards our wormhole exit location. Unknown designs, and minimal weapons detected. It seems like a scouting group." The effect on the Admiral was electric. "Bring us back up to combat alert status and turn the ship around! If they are hostile, we don't want them getting away. Is the slipspace drive up yet?" "Negative." "Savaymin! Get the rest of Ra back up here! With their weapons this time! Magellan, get a Longsword squadron scrambled, and power up that experimental tractor beam we got outfitted with! Let's go get a map!" The alarms...which have only been turned off for about fifteen seconds...turn on again.</s> <|message|>Wrenu Tipolan Wrenu Tipolan Waited patiently, if not boringly, for their ship to exit hyperspace. Once they did though, his eyes bulges as he desperately tried to identify the vast ship they had arrived close to. He immediately contacted his master, saying with some fear and awe "Master, did you know this ship was going to be here...I don't recognize any of it's markings or design features from the main Archives..."</s> <|message|>Savaymin Rholise I'm sorry team Ra She thinks to herself. All this going back and forth probably irritates them quite a bit. Regardless, the threat is real and imminent this time. Whatever the approaching ship plans on doing, chances are it's not good. However, the ships that they did bring do not seem that intimidating at first glance compared to the ship that they now pilot. This could either be really good, or really bad. However, it's not her place to interpret what this means at the moment. For now she needs to bring her team back to the main bridge in preparation for what comes next. They shouldn't have gotten far, unless they felt the need to run all the way to the armory that is... Jogging through the Solar winds halls, she intercepts Fire team Ra on their way to the armory. "Hey, Admiral wants us back. We have visitors." She stares at the dude carrying the rocket launcher. "You know what? Do what you think is best. I won't blame you if you decide to keep that with you." (Savaymin stays with fire team Ra till she receives specific orders or is put into a situation where she has to make a decision.)</s> <|message|>Owen Magnus Admiral Magnus Magnus reviews the infodump in his cabin for a short bit, then leaves his cabin and starts heading for the bridge, opening a comm channel with the ship's adjutant on the way. "Adjutant, tell the bridge to move the ship towards the planet's northern pole. Maintain distance from the planet while en route, and charge a wraith for a stealth recon. Get a scan for Vespene Gas going. And prepare a spec ops dropship for long range deployment. And deploy sensor towers into the rings for perimeter recon." "Acknowledged, admiral." The Perelliator begins moving as directed towards the planet's north pole, as sensor tower drop pods fire from the battlecruiser's underside towards the dense ring and the Admiral re-enters the bridge.</s> <|message|>Jedi Master Greggory Wick Jedi Master Greggory Wick Out of hyperspace, Greggory looked over his sensors with a tinge of confusion. "R5, what's..." Looking up the jedi notice something quite strange. Straining his eye with the aid of the force, Master Wick saw what appeared to be a ship, and then over the radio, "Master, did you know this ship was going to be here...I don't recognize any of it's markings or design features from the main Archives..." Looking over the vessel Greggory said, "I can't say I have Wrenu, we should try to get communications up. Wrenu, try to get in contact with them, maybe their friendly." Taking another moment to look at the strange craft, "Bumboa, we should maintain a defensive formation. A ship that large could have more than a few weapons."</s> <|message|>Cindra Dubrovnik (Agent X69821J, AKA Cinder) Cindra Dubrovnik Cinder sighs, annoyed at the tiny amount of information she is privy to, and heavily walks out of the room. She makes her way to the armory, stopping at her locker, and unloads her AGR-14 rifle and a cleaning kit. With an irritated half-smile, she settles onto a bench and tucks one leg up close to her as she begins disassembling and swabbing the weapon down. It's not like she has anything else to do... Cinder takes her time, knowing there isn't really a need for her anywhere at the moment; if the admiral needs her, he can send her a com. Pull this pin, remove this slide, turn that screw, swab, tweak this mechanism... What could the admiral be thinking right now? Is he debating a strategy? Is he panicking? Attach this clip, snap that cylinder back into place, slide the piece over... Even though she cleans at a far slower pace than usual, she absentmindedly finishes all three rifles and her psyblade within a few minutes. She looks down at her gloved fingers, smeared with grease, then stares at the pile of weapons by her side. Frowning, Cinder wipes off her hands and replaces the rifles and blade emitter in her locker. After locking it, she sits back on the bench and stares at the ceiling for a bit, lost in thought.</s> <|message|>Owen Magnus Dominion Team GM post Below the Perelliator, a small, sleek brown ship soars upwards from one of the industrial complexes the battlecruiser had detected earlier. A com transmission from the small ship is directed at the battlecruiser. Brrring, brrring, hello...</s> <|message|>Wrenu Tipolan Wrenu Tipolan "Right Master..." Wrenu said before he moved to do so, rushing to activate the communications and try to send a simple greetings. "Hello Unknown Vessel, this is the Jedi Cruiser Salen-Vardi asking for a reply." He send it out on all of the common channels he could, and then, even a few extra ways he'd personally learned from books he'd read in the Archives.</s>

<|message|>Olu Bumdoa The Nautolan's vessel exited hyperspace just a few seconds behind Wick, being decently on par with Wrenu's cruiser. He immediately flicked a switch here and there, adjusting his microphone as well. "Negative, I didn't know it would be here. It's an anomaly after all." Olu gently strolled his starfighter near Greggory's, assuming what was a basic defensive formation for the three vessels. He allowed Wrenu to engage the communications, reclining back on his seat. This should be interesting.</s>

<|description|>Paric Age: 58 Appearance: Paric is an average sized Eldi male, standing at 6' and weighing in at 168 pounds. He has a medium complexion and, if not for his natural Eldi physique, would not be slim. Finally, he has, short, roughly cut dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Personality: Paric is not a completely solemn man even though his history makes it seem so. He enjoys company and, if given the chance, he will stick with anyone who would have him. He's a listener and will often allow a person to talk their head off without interruption. He is also a master at appearing sober while in public. Height: 6' Race: Eldi Home Nation: Kel Magical Capabilities: Elemental, fire. He has a chaotic grip over his mana. History: One may conclude that a drunk such as Paric lost his parents as a child. Afterall, it is known that an overly excited Eldi will eventually die from birthing too many little monstrosities. Paric's problem is much simpler than that. He's an Eldi, an unfortuante occurance. There is some more to it, though. Being an Eldi, he curses himself for the arcanal direction he decided to go down as a misled youngster. Stuck as a fire mage for the rest of existence. He could have done something interesting such as metaphysics or something felxible such as the arcane art. Instead, he decided to be an overglorified camp fire. His reasons for hating the Eldi? Well, firstly, they eat Humans, whose appearance is very much like the Eld. Secondly, the Eldi are so damned self entitled that they couldn't help save their world from a Lok'Sha take over. Thirdly, he had to be an Eldi for a couple hundred years. Lastly, he did not have the wallet for that much alcohol.</s> <|message|>Flin Meeru Shane smiled at Lilith. "I'm glad you guys are doing good! This is always a great place to come to." He said. He relaxed on his bar stool, patiently waiting for his meal despite the painful whining that his stomach was making every now and then. He tried to hide the noises as best he could, but he wasn't very succesful in doing so. "Myron? Oh, that priest, right?" He inquired. He could tell that something must have happened between him and Lilith. "I haven't seen him in a while. Is he doing okay?" He asked. He didn't trust the Priests or the Black Cathedral at all, but he was never bothered by Myron's presence in the pub.</s> <|message|>Vizz, The Thief. Vizz- Berganfont sewers The boy would hear a wild cackle from within the darkness. A rather grating and gravelly voice was soon to follow. "Ahahahaha. Oh man, kid! That's some funny shit." The disembodied voice echoed against the sewer walls. The young Eldi would be greeted by a grinning, green-skinned imp of a creature, still chuckling to himself. Vizz stepped out of the shadows slapped the back of his hand against the boy's knee. "Relax, kid. I'm hiding down here too." He reassured with a smile. Although in reality, Vizz really couldn't give a fuck. Or... rather he didn't, until the glint of shiny metal caught his eye. A specific shine in particular. "Niiice haul, man." The Gibu Thief complimented with a smirk and a nod. "Us thieves gotta stick together, y'know?" He continued, carrying on his yammering and soon-to-be deception. Vizz REALLY wanted that diamond. Black gems were well sought after and highly requested on the contract board back at the Guild. An idea raced across Vizz's mind. He jabbed a fat, gnarled finger at the diamond. "That? That's worthless, kid. No one's gonna want that shit." The Gibu lied through his teeth. Hopefully this kid was as dumb as Vizz thought. He might actually buy it. Vizz gestured to himself as he continued to talk. "Me though? I'm a collector. Can't get enough!" He fabricated. "Yeah! Tell you what, let's make a deal. You give me that black gem, and I'll help you get outta here to wherever you're going!" Vizz offered. Easy trade for even easier work. The Gibu extended his spinach-coloured hand. "Whaddya say?"</s> <|message|>Paric "Leias it is then, friend. I have no where to go and find myself with nothing to persue. I find my destiny entwined with yours... At least for awhile." It was quite certain to Paric that Ayer would lead him to a better life... If not a more exciting one. He listened to Ayer's view on the Eldi practice of eating humanoids silently. While his friend made solid points, Paric did not find his hate swayed in any way. "Yes, friend, we live in a different time... Yet they persue power from the consumption of flesh anyway. The Eldi still practice it under Kel. I am... relieved to hear you think it a crime." His mind was so absorbed that he did not notice the oncoming ship. Paric's face paled some as he, too, spotted the oncoming light, moments after Ayer called it out. His friend was urging him to paddle, but he knew he wouldn't he of much use. Despite that, he grabbed his oars and began to work them through the water. His lack of practice and injury evident in his sluggish pace and weak paddling. Then he heard someone shouting about... A Nillium? One of those damned sharks that roam these waters. Big enough to flip this boat. The shark was on them within moments, visible because the spotlight had flashed over it. "Uh, there's a shark beneath us and you have a habit of excessively rocking the boat." He gulped, "and we're also falling away from the ship..."</s> <|message|>Ayer Lecomte Ayer Lecomte --9:36pm - Mentions: @Mataus The winded arcanist was happy to hear the crew aboard the larger cruiser was distracted by something happening on the other side, allowing them to slip beneath the beams of the search lights. A Nillium shark, it seemed like. He would've loved to have a closer examination of the creature. While it was not magical, from what he heard, it was sight of nature to behold. Their teeth and scales were supposedly stronger than metal, but much more beautiful and light. Who knows? He might've figured out a way to used these materials in prototypes for the Ars, as metal oftentimes had a problem of prolonged heat retention. It was the problem of them, being thermal conductors, despite their usefulness in malleability and general conductivity. It was one of the things he intended on doing during his stay here in the port-town. But those plans have changed, clearly. As they passed behind the ship, his eyes widened. The boat was being rocked by currents caused by the arcane engine of the larger ship. "Oh merde...!" he whispered, shifting his oar to the other side to try and offset the heavy bobbing they now experienced. But another forced seemed to join in the rough bobbing the ship, adding a sharp bump. He was reminded how much he needed to relieve his bladder at all of this uncomfortably displacement. And of the sheer terror that swelled up inside him, quite literally gripped the poor man by his groin. Ayer slowly poked his head over, hoping that his greatest fear was just his overactive imagination. But it was not. A large looming shadow passed underneath, a slender, monstrous shape. One cast by the residual lights shone into the water overhead. Right then, he quite almost pissed himself. Paric's words only confirmed his sighting, and cemented his terror. "I-I do not have a habit of excessively rocking the boat! I just... I underestimate my own strength. Yes." he whispered, yet he found himself shaking like a wet dog. Damn. When he wished for a close examination of the Nillium sharks, this was not what he meant. "P-pull the oars in." he said, trying hard not to panic. "Pull them in, now...!" As he yanked his over the side back onto the boat, Ayer began steadily scooting himself to one side of the ship, "Hopefully, with our combined weight, we'll keep the ship in balance from the currents. The largest unknown factor which will lead to us being flipped and probably eaten, is that very shark. If we appear just like a floating piece of junk, it might ignore us. If not... Well..." He didn't want to think about it. ...</s> <|message|>Daelin Calso Baeshri Pass - East Crags Daelin wasn't perceptive enough to notice anything dangerous in the darkness. He stayed close to Ell as he knelt down and examined the piece of wreckage. "This is definitely from the caravan." He noted aloud to the others. "Same deal though, there's no sign of blood or Marilyn here." He got up again and strolled around the scrap, looking for any other signs, unaware of how close he was to the blade of a dagger. Baeshri Pass - Caravan Centaurus The rumbling was all Rem really needed to notice the massive danger barreling down the road. His enhanced vision allowed him to see the figures and part of the skiff being dragged behind the great venbu. The most prominent was the one standing on top of the venbu. His posture looked confident and commanding. Rem sighed at the sight. If these were the enemy then the night just got much longer. Rem turned around and dipped his head into the opening of the cabin. "You should close and seal this door unless you intend to help me. We have company and it doesn't look friendly. I'll see if I can't dissuade them first." Rem turned and stood to face the oncoming danger. The most immediate threat was the venbu at full speed. The others would hopefully be able to be reasoned with. The elder druid reached out his free hand, holding his staff with his other as it rested against the ground. He spoke out loud at the same time he projected the psychic command, a habit of his. "Stop!" Rem was always good when dealing with animals.</s> <|message|>Flin Meeru "I see." Flin responded to Daelin, and began to search around the wreckage as well. He made sure to stay close near the druid. He doubted that he'd have better luck than an experienced scout like Daelin, but he was certainly going to do his best. On one hand, he was glad that they didn't find Marilyn's battered corpse. But she could still be severely injured, so there was no time to waste. Especially after how much time they'd spent dealing with the Myti before looking for her. "Don't worry. We'll find her." He said.</s> <|message|>Za'kul The Rise of Kul Smor'Gen'Blok Za'Kul stood with an unnerved look racked in his eyes. Three of his four hearts beat in rapid succession, it was the closest thing he could reckon a Lok'Sha felt to fear and bewilderment. Not knowing whether one was going to survive a perilous situation made all ensouled things panic, no matter the conventions surrounding the nature of their people. Za'Kul knelt on shaking legs to his father and to Ju'Kul, head bowed. His supplication followed, "Pa. Ju'Kul. I bring Wor in peace, they come in peace. Need home." he stayed on one knee with his head bowed. Ultimately, the decision was not his but his father's. If he was truthful with himself, Za'Kul had no idea what he was doing. As one of the younger members of the expanding Kul tribe, he acted on impulse which--as it is traditionally-absent of the cold reason which blesses one while he ages. As of late, words poured from his mouth without direction; so far, it had been working. The would-be leader wondered how much longer he had before his luck ran out.</s>

<|message|>Paric Paric pulled in his oars, his hands visibly shaking. "Oh... oh this is bad! Very bad!" He did as Ayer said, moving his weight around to help balance their boat, which had already taken on a deadly lean. He couldn't believe their luck... or lack of luck. Whatever it was, it did not seem fair that they not only had to deal with the ship in alongside them, but also had a shark beneath them. A Nillium too for Maeti's sake! They had little chance to fend off such a beast. To think that they had escaped from the town... and Mop too! The very Mop who had shown extreme fortitude in his ability to survive their multitude of attacks. Yet they now faced a worse danger. He thought about what they could do if the shark decided to go for them. "Friend, we can throw the oars to distract the shark if it comes to it!" Paric looked back over the side but was not able to see the Nillium. "Oh..." he whispered, "I don't see it! Where is it? WHERE?" He started to move to the opposite side to look over, but felt the ship start to lean again. He leaned back against the boat's side, flashing Ayer a look of terror. Their boat had somewhat recovered from its lean, it was now safe from the Nillium ship's wake. However, the shark, being as large as it was, could knock their boat over as if it was a toy. It was Paric's first time seeing a shark, and, Paric had to admit, the experience was living up to be quite the terror. The worst part about these Nillium sharks was how intelligently they hunted sailors. They were known for following a ship until an unfortunate sailor was leaning on a rail. Then they would strike the ship, consequently knocking the poor sailor to his doom. If Paric and Ayer had a chance to survive, it was based on the fact that the shark did not look at all hungry, and that it was odd for small ships to brave the channel. Meaning that the shark would probably mistake them for floating garbage, as Ayer had mentioned.</s>

<|description|>Antonius Philo Diaz AKA Tony - not a very cool nickname, but a nickname nonetheless and a very common one too Age Thirty-six Race Human Appearance Tony isn't very intimidating at all, and his appearance gives that away. Once clean cut and well-shaved when he worked on the Galactic Committee, he has become more lax with his appearance. He stands at about five feet, nine inches and weighs an average amount. He bears little musculature - only enough to give him a lightly toned appearance. His hair is a curly mess with some gray peppered into otherwise dark hair. Antonius's scruff verges on a full beard most days, but he keeps it relatively well-trimmed, especially when making an appearance in a professional setting. Faction Marauder, Former Committee Member Role in Team As the linguist, not only is Tony well versed in all known languages and cultures, he is also a trained diplomat and negotiator. His charisma makes him an asset when the team makes contact with other species as well as on-board. Tony isn't a very good mediator as his ego tends to get in the way, but he's quite good at working through conflicts in a fair manner. Biography Antonius Diaz was raised to be one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. His father was an ambassador in Tony's formative years, and his mother ensured that the boy received the best education he could from the variety of planets they lived on. As such, he picked up on countless alien languages as well as those of Earth when his mother, formerly a professor on Earth, had a chance to teach him. From early on, his father groomed him to follow in his footsteps. By the time Tony was 12, his father brought him to meetings with politicians from all races. Soon after, Antonius's father moved them all to the Spire where he had gotten a job in the Galactic Committee. Tony excelled in school, most notably in his language courses. He continued shadowing his father, which paid off well in the long run by securing him internships and, later, a very notable scholarship to continue his education. Out of school, he quickly found his footing in the politics of the Spire. He worked his way into the Committee at a surprisingly young age, riding the coattails of his father but still managing to forge his own persona. His charm and intellect took him far, and he was pegged for a Council position at an early age. It was at the height of his career that he met Mira L'Haria, a middle aged Satasi. Whether she chose him because he impressed her or because she believed he was the most capable of providing for a child, the two married and soon had a child. For a time, Tony lived a very successful and promising life. But politics are dirty, and even as something of a protegee, he was not immune to easy fixes and bargains. When it came time for him to campaign for a Council seat, his campaign manager suggested they "get rid of" his most promising opponent. An assassin was hired, and she did her job well, paving the way for Antonius. But she wasn't good enough, and it took just a few weeks until the murder was traced back to Tony and he was arrested. The court case famously graced news outlets across the Spire and likely on other planets. He was left with a bargain by the Committee. Join the Marauders, or rot in a cell for the rest of his days. He chose the former, figuring it was the easiest way to return to grace and perhaps have another chance at glory. And so he packed his things and joined the crew of the Monroe. Personality Antonius ought to feel as disgraced as he is, but he hides the failure of his career behind an egotistical and arrogant cover. Deep down, he blames himself for getting caught, but he would never let that show. "Should have been more careful" is a common refrain of his when discussing the incident that landed him on the ship, followed by a quick laugh. He's naturally charismatic and shockingly eloquent when he must be for work. Tony is notoriously sarcastic and caustic. He has very few - if any - morals. Instead, he looks out mostly for himself. He has a very flippant attitude towards authority because he thinks so highly of his accomplishments and intelligence. It can be blinding, and he has been known to get in quite a few arguments with his superiors. With a too-cool-for-school attitude, he's not really the best teammate, and he can't lead much more than a debate or committee meeting unless he feels compelled to. But Tony is a diplomat, and he knows how to conduct himself professionally. While he still comes off as abrasive if provoked, he is quite the gentleman and knows how to lead a conversation well. He's a people-person, despite being a bit of an ass, and he thrives off of being around others even if they can't really stand him as a person. Antonius is quite capable of love, but he doesn't show it easily. His charm easily melds into mild flirting without him even realizing it. He is known to overstep boundaries even though he has been put in his place quite a few times. Weapon Tony carries a standard-issue pistol which he keeps in a holster at his side. It is quite visible purposefully so that he comes off to unknown species as more trustworthy. On the ship, he often forgets to carry it, leaving him quite vulnerable. Family/Relationship Tony is single after his marriage fell into disrepair shortly after his arrest. He still talks to his daughter, Neema (8), often, but his ex-wife has little to say to him after his failure of a political career. His father and mother still live on the Spire, and he speaks with them occasionally as well. In recent months, his mother's health has slowly begun to deteriorate. Other He used to smoke like a chimney, but it's hard to do that in the middle of space in such tight quarters. He'll often sneak to the cargo hold or the hangar for a quick break while working. Tony also speaks with a slight accent that is difficult to place. His father's accent is mostly Queen's English while his mother speaks with something reminiscent of a Boston accent. That influence, coupled with his study of language, has left him with something bordering on English while sounding just slightly wrong for a human. Intriguing and still a bit charming, but odd.</s> <|message|>Astrid Langenberg Having still hoped nothing was actually damaged, she sighed at the mention of the light. Then again, it could have been worse. "Oh, I don't have to treat you like a child? A ceiling light near the bow disagrees with that." she shot back dryly on the private channel with Dev as not to hog the public one. Dev, too, was right to an extent. She did treat a lot of people as if they were completely inept, to the misfortune of her and those around her in equal measure. "Fine," she sighed, "I'll give it the old college try. Maybe a combustible container would work best for the incendiary shells? Something that survives leaving the barrel, but disintegrates when the charge ignites?" she suggested, recalling the Irene's main gun battery employed a similar system for the shell cartridges. When the ship slightly shuddered under an impact as a stray round slammed into the shield, Astrid's gaze fell upon the shield monitoring readout. If it wasn't for that shield, that round would've taken out the port side breaking thruster. In a stroke of luck, the Monroe hasn't taken many hits so far. Was it luck, or crew skill? Astrid's opinion of her species aside, that Satasi girl was one hell of a pilot. In either case, it was back to the old routine. Fortunately, the Monroe was decades younger, and in a much better shape than her last posting, which meant power didn't have to be triaged between various subsystems and she had Tango helping out when necessary. Unless something broke down, then Dev's light would suddenly cease to be a problem. The captain's transmission conjured up a smile on her face. Though she hasn't bothered to learn much about her new crew in the short time she's been here, she thought she had a fairly good idea of what Dev's solution to their given problem would be. "So, Dev, How much do you hate them? Can you round it down to the nearest kilogram?" She asked semi-seriously before turning her attention to the murderbots. "Thatch, can you give me a rundown of the pods you mentioned? Maybe we can use one of those instead of wasting a working one." Escape pods. Those would've been nice to have a little while ago.</s> <|message|>Yasaliah Josk Yasaliah Josk: Pilot The captain's voice responded, with a steel to his voice Yasaliah hadn't heard before. "No more running. We're ending this." After a brief pause, he gave more specific orders. "Yasaliah, give them a show. Taunt them, keep them distracted, annoy the hell outta them." "Aye aye, Captain," Yasaliah responded through the comms. Inhaling deeply, she wrapped her hands around the U-shaped piloting device. One thing the Satasi pilot always had to remember was that there was no up nor down in the void of space. She had learned long ago to disassociate piloting in atmosphere rather than piloting in space. Otherwise a rookie pilot could get easily disoriented, or worse, stuck in their old behaviors. Piloting the ship like they were flying, not like they were space-faring. Keeping one orientation, becoming predictable. Easy prey for an opponent who knows all the crazy shit zero-g allows to happen. Things that could dazzle. Space flight should be beautiful, not boring. Yasaliah gave them a show. As the enemy fired their projectiles, Yasaliah shifted the Monro 'upwards' of where it was. The Ulnar would have to look up from their cockpit to see the ship now, and begin to chance to orientation of their ship to get more guns pointed at the Monroe. The tops of each ship were facing each other now, circling around each other like sharks in the sky. Then, Yasaliah shifted gears, with a violent adjusting of her own hands she pulled back on the controls, screwing up her face. The Monro drifted, nose towards the top of the enemy ship, but still keeping it's previous circling orbit, using various thrusters to maintain the strange pattern. Showing off, Yasaliah flung the U-shaped controller of the ship the side, spinning it and slammed down her booted foot onto a pedal which activated several boosters on the right side. Now, the Monroe was rotating while going on a revolution. "Okay, shoot 'em now!"She pressed one of the other pedals beneath her feet, and the Monro suddenly ceased it's rotating and boosted forward, perpendicular the Ulnar ship while their top was still facing the ship. The spinning trick would only work once, and it probably helpd that the aliens were dumb, but for a brief moment they were most likely stunned at the strange acrobatic display of the Monroe. Now, the Monro was lunging towards the Ulnar ship with it's port side first. More guns were now shooting at the Ulnar ship than the Ulnar ship was shooting at the Monroe. Sweat trickled down the forehead of the concentrating Satasi pilot, her eyes flicking from one console to the other, enjoying herself immensely. The adrenaline, the excitement, her overly complicated maneuvers gave her the rush she lived for.</s>

<|message|>Antonius Philo Diaz Tony continued to fire at the ship, swallowing nervously as he hoped someone was on their way to the bridge. He had no gods to pray to, but if he had, he certainly would have mumbled a few blessings. The ship rocked beneath the fire from the Ulnar ship, and Antonius finally managed to string a few colorful curses into a semi-coherent and polylingual statement. Dev's voice came over the comms soon after, and the linguist couldn't help but smile to himself. "Thank the fucking stars, D-" He started to mumble to himself, but he was cut off by more pounding at the bridge. Slowly, it cut off, and Tony allowed himself to settle back into his seat slightly. He started to formulate a response to Dev, but Yasaliah came back over his comms, announcing the adjustment. "Ready when you are." Tony responded quickly, adjusting slightly for the change in trajectory. He continued firing throughout the adjustment, figuring that he might as well go out with one hell of a bang. Hell, if he wanted to die by space rats, he would have just stayed in prison. But it was a little too late for that now. Hearing his name over the comms, he perked up for a moment. "It's a very ugly language, Raymond," he joked, making fine adjustments to the turret. "Very guttural, sounds like mucus stuck in the throat." Still, he never rejected an opportunity to brag or show off his skill set. His father had paid too much in sending him to school for that education to go to waste. And so he linked his comms into the ship's loudspeaker system for a few seconds. His insults were quite typical, ranging from colorful, suggestive comments about the mothers of the space rats as well as a few quick jabs at their fighting abilities and collective masculinity. It was almost too easy. The words seemed to come from somewhere deep within his throat, giving them a gross, wet sound that seemed to complement the Ulnar almost perfectly. Satisfied, he unlinked himself from the system, a self-satisfied smirk plastered to his face. By the time he had finished, Yasaliah's maneuvers had placed them strategically on a path heading towards the ship. "I'm sure the space rats really appreciated the theatrics, Yasaliah," he commented, his voice conveying a benign sarcasm as he upped his rate of firing, sending a barrage of fire at the ship. "I suppose we're giving them more of a show than they planned for."</s>

<|description|>Sakuya Eiji Rin's Voice(and theme) Sakuya's Voice(ignore the story going on >.>) Appearance: Asides from her dress, she wears a black cloak with a hood to hide her appearance. Nicknames/Titles:Bladedancer, Quicksilver Gender: Female Age: 17 Sexuality: Bi Personality: Energetic and loves to tease, just about everyone would get along with her. However, just because everyone would like to talk to her, doesn't mean she's easy to be around. Whether you are male or female, she enjoys being flirtatious and teasing them. However, there are moments when she finds something(or someone) who deserves the label adorable. It's easy to tell when she thinks so, because, without a thought of personal space nor proper time and place, she will attempt to hug it. In battle, she is someone who you do not want to be anywhere nearby. Almost seemingly dancing with the blade, with bullets firing out sporadically. One thing to note that, while she enjoys teasing others, even sexually sometimes, she is rather innocent and vulnerable to being teased. Weapon of Choice: The gunblade, a well-balanced weapon(weight wise here). It's capable of loading and firing five paper cartridge rounds before needing to reload. The rifle's range is rather mediocre however, due to the inability to 'aim down iron sights'. She does have a back-up weapon, namely several throwing knives strapped to her thigh. Other: Appearance: She does wear a black trenchcoat over her clothing, almost consistently. Name: Eiji Nicknames/Titles:Bulletstorm, Walking Armory Gender: Female Age: 17 Sexuality: Bi Personality: Rin is more calmer of the twins, although she would still be counted as more active amongst the family. Loves to eat anything sweet, and her usually passive and blank appearance would change to something that can only be called moe extremely cute, especially if you feed her the cake. Although at first she may seem unemotional, once you get to know her, you would start to understand the slight differences in expressions. She enjoys being doted on, fed anything sugary, using someone as a lap pillow, and even being used as a hug pillow. Something that she might have picked up from her brother, would be the need for efficiency, at least in battle. That, and collecting guns. Her love knowledge of guns is high enough that she can start deducing the type of weapon used(rifle, shotty, pistol, hand cannon, ship cannon). Within battle, it really depends on how close her target is, and what her objective is. It can range from the usual aim and snipe methods, to the ridiculous yet more well known method of literally unleashing death everywhere, with bullets flying every which way. Weapon of Choice:She technically doesn't have a favourite weapon. Ask her to open the jacket, and you will probably hit the floor with your jaw, as the sheer number of different guns can be seen. Sakuya labels her as a walking armory. Bypassing the need to reload every shot, Rin is know for dual wielding, and firing the guns one at a time, before immediately switching. Think of it as a salvo. However, reloading all those firearms is annoying as hell, trying to make all the paper cartridges by hands. Pistols and short barrel firearms can be haters anywhere, rifle sized firearms have to be carried at the back, limiting their numbers. She technically can carry guns on the outside of her cloak as well, but that is in plain sight. The only weapon that she actually HAS to carry outside, is a hand cannon. Other: If you ever try to carry her coat, you'll find that it is heavy. The reason by the 'why' is easily answered if you felt the coat. There are metal plates seen into it, as well as plenty of places to holster guns all over the inside, and some on the outside as well. However, when worn, the coat doesn't show any noticeable bulges. Despite how the twins behave, Rin is actually the older twin.</s> <|message|>Jax Morinth ~JAX~ The young pirate was surprised by the small squirrel climbing up onto her shoulder and squeaking rapidly in her ear. "Hey, hey little guy calm down. Who do ya think you are? The captain. No way" She picked up the little guy by his scruff and placed him gently down. "Scat little man, don't make me show you my wrath..." Nngh, damn it don't be an asshole. "Fine, I'm sorry. Now get going" A huge grin formed on her face when Aubrey acknowledged her. "I built a cannon, like those on the Leviathan, but it can be held like this..." She showed him the way it would be held, similar to that of a rocket launcher. "I imagine it would have quite a kick to it but boy would it be worth it" She was always excited to talk about her work, especially when someone actually showed an interest. When they arrived in the coffee shop she pulled a handful of coins from her pocket and placed them on the counter. "I'll take it black, with a smidge of milk and sugar." The girl loved her coffee that way, dark and almost without sweetener. "Go ahead and order whatever you like Aubrey, I'll cover you" Not like she needed too, they all had some spending money, but she liked to be nice once and a while. Jax saw Winston waiting for his coffee, sitting with Levi and she nodded in their direction, seems like everyone was in the mood for coffee today. But this wasn't good enough for her, she'd have to go join Prince and Taran in their joyous trouble spree. "So anyway, I'm not sure if it will correctly fit cannon ammo, and it ought to be extremely heavy, not many will be able to wield it but it shouldn't be heavier than this" She took the wrench from her back and held it in both hands. "Ohh yes, can you hold this thing?" Jax held out the the wrench to Aubrey. While she was holding the wrench out she noticed Levi's lips moving ever so slightly and felt a little jealous. "Say Levi. how come you won't talk to anyone but Winston?"</s> <|message|>Prince [PRINCE] Prince stared wide-eyed at Taran and grinned. " I thought you'd never ask," Prince said, taking Taran's hand and pulling himself up. He shrugged and shook his head, "Sucks that everyone left," he paused. "You think that since they're pirates they'd have a little more fun." He sighed, scratching the back of his head. "So, what's your plan?" Prince asked, scanning the city. He was a relatively messy person but even this was just too much for him. You can barely see the details that were plastered on the buildings. "I don't think anyone knows how glad I am for not wearing white in this city," he said, scrunching his nose in disgust. He's been to a lot of dirty cities but this one takes the cake, even he felt like scrubbing down the whole city until it was spotless. "I have no idea how these people can stand living here."</s> <|message|>Viola Gordon Rufus squirmed and chattered before being placed on the ground, at which point he promptly scampered back to Viola, who chuckled, knelt and scooped up the irritated little fluffball. He crawled up her arm, onto her shoulder and then grabbed one of her dreads to pull himself up onto the top of her head. This was a relatively uncommon position for him to take, but she certainly didn't mind. Now that she was ready to go, she headed off into the thick of this horrible hellhole of a city. She passed a dead cat and looked away, pinching her nose and trying not to get sad. "You feeling ill yet, Rufus?" There was no response. He must have fallen asleep on her head. Viola entered a small produce shop and started to pile some things into a bag, ticking things off as she went. She was the last person anyone would think is a pirate.</s> <|message|>Winston Hollands "How's life?" Winston said. "Life's treating me good, I guess. Honestly, still terrified that I'm hundreds of feet in the air and if the ground under me crumbles, I'll fall for a terrifying amount of time. But that's probably 'cause I'm just an old man." Winston had a light laugh at the end. He looked to Levi. She seemed to have a forlorn look to her. Winston closed his eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath. The woman who worked behind the counter walked out and gave Winston a small cup of coffee. "You know... If you have anything you need to tell me, I will gladly listen." His voice was quiet and collected. He took his cup of coffee and pulled his bandage mask down. He only pulled one of the lengths down. He made sure to hide his mouth with his free hand. Winston saw Jax and Aubrey enter. "Oh, hello!" He said, waving to the two. He, without thinking too much of it, took a large swig from the cup. "Ah! Futhath hawt!" He loudly said, panicking slightly.</s> <|message|>Taran Greene " They are probably born,raised and die here, it really is no different than anywhere else. I bet a bunch would leave given the choice, but there is no choice, so they stay," Taran looked around at the surrounding building. "What do you think, should we go and try to find us some local fun? Or should we try and hunt down one of the Isisorisntit Houses? There are tons here,"Isisorisntit House, places where the fairly well off lived when they didn't, or couldn't, afford hired muscle to guard their extravagant abodes. They would then, instead, buy out entire city blocks and gut the inside and turn them into mansions disguised as low-income housing. They were not particularly well know, Taran only knowing of their existence because of a party that he had once performed at. The inside had peacocks and golden fountains everywhere, while the outside was missing tiles on the roof and a few windows had boards on them. Making plans was something that Taran didn't do, and when he did, he rarely followed it through till the end. Like, how he ended up on the ship. He was going down to the store to get some milk before a street performance. One thing lead to another and now here he was. "Mind where you put your hands," he said to a little boy who had gotten a little too close to Prince. The boy gave him a disgusted look before taking off back into the crowd. "So, what'll it be? Breaking and entering? Or...other?</s> <|message|>Winter Winter Seeing that everyone was going their own ways, searching for entertainment in the city, Winter just resigned herself to having a mess to clean up afterwards and left to make the most of her (no doubt limited) time of peace. She had errands to run, hobbies to indulge, and maybe some light shopping to do. When one of the crew inevitably drew unwanted attention or got in trouble, she'd be there in her odd Winter way. She might not be able to clean up the situation per say, but she could at least keep the collateral damage to a minimum.</s> <|message|>Aubrey Aubrey smiled. "A cannon, huh? Awesome." When he opened the door to the shop, a little bell above the door jingled pleasantly. The joint seemed almost out of place; it was clean and cozy, much different then the mess of a city that was going on outside. He followed Jax to the counter, noticing Levi and Winston and returning Winton's wave cheerfully. The whole atmosphere felt almost too good to be true. He suddenly got a little butterfly in his stomach. How long, realistically, could the pirates stay out of trouble. Jax offered to pay for him, and he shrugged and accepted politely. "Erm..." He turned to the woman at the counter, who was looking at him expecting. "Ah, anything with lots of sugar." He said. The woman smiled and nodded her head in acknowledgment, going off to get their drinks. "Hmm?" He turned his attention back to Jax when she asked him to hold her wrench. What could she possibly use that thing for? He took it from her, and a look of surprise immediately crossed his face. "Holy cow, it's heavy! You carry this around all the time?" He asked in awe. He then noticed her looking over at Levi with a slightly annoyed expression. His eyes darted in between the two girls, wondering what he had missed, but not willing to ask.</s>

<|message|>Sakuya Eiji As the two sisters made their way through the city, they had consistently received odd looks, mainly at their clothing. The average bystander would only see two cloaked figures, with one carrying a rather large staff wrapped in something like paper. However, the odd looks decreased, the closer they reached their destination. Sakuya smiled as she looked at the rather rustic appearance of the bar, almost anticipating some sort of chaos to occur. Rin on the other hand, had a harder to read expression, but seemingly displeased with the location. This bar was located in the ore shadier ends of the city, with quite a few troublemakers inside. Every city had a place like this, where the troublemakers congregate. Brushing open the doors, Sakuya strolled in, seemingly uncaring about the multitude of curious and cautious onlookers. Sitting herself casually in an empty seat at the counter, she dropped her hood before smiling at the bartender. "Can I have the specialty drink~?" Speaking in a tater flirtatious tone, with a graceful wave of her hand to accent her behavior. Rin only mentally sighed, before following her sister's footsteps, sitting down inconspicuously beside her. Well, as inconspicuous as someone wearing a trenchcoat and a large staff could be. Of course, it didn't take long, before someone made their move. It wasn't often that a female would ever come into a bar like this, where you could almost taste the damn testosterone in the air. A rather well-built yet greasy man came up and sat beside the two. "What a surprise! You two fine ladies don't look to be from around here." Such a cheesy icebreaker, at least from Rin's perspective. However, Sakuya only giggled softly, before responding, "Of course! We're new around here. We wouldn't mind for someone to show us around~" with the same flirtatious tone, before suddenly whispering in a rather sultry voice, "Although we wouldn't mind someone strong to lead us around~". This was definitely the spark that started the small chaos, as many of the other men started trying to move, while restricting each other from getting to the sisters first. Witnessing such an odd but somewhat familiar scene, Rin sighed, her lamentations lost in the depths of her drink.</s>

<|description|>Lorelai Age: 22 Allegiance: Imperium History: For as long as she could remember, Lorelai had always wanted to be just like her idol and become a knight of the Imperium. She had been born to a modest family that had lived happily under the Imperium's rule for generations amidst the dreamy countryside. Whereas most girls played with dolls, Lorelai spent hers with local garrison polishing armor and helping prepare there meals after many years of pestering them to let her help. It was a certainty in her mind that she would be another soldier of the Imperium, protecting the peace and prosperity of others just like the Crimson Knight. Lorelai had seen Asgard once in her child, on her families yearly visit to the capital for the festivities celebrating the Great Beast's demise. A crimson beacon that shone brighter than the fireworks bursting along the night's sky, the image of Asgard burning itself into her mind as the ideal she would strive for as a knight of the Imperium. An obsession was born, but for such a just cause who could call it wrong? True to her word she joined the Imperial army, and while not one of the true knights like Yggdrasil or Asgard, she had earned a less-than-kind nickname that she took in stride, the Abyssal Knight. Among the rank and file she was known for demonstrating a willingness to go to extreme measures to maintain the peace regardless of being ordered to or not. Her moniker, once derisive, was uttered in respect following an incident whereupon a patrol she was accompanying had been assailed by a raging beast. The patrol had fled in the face of certain death, but Lorelai hadn't. Word spread of a monster that would certainly ravage the land, and it was thought that none could stand against it alone. Lorelai stood against the beast. She laid it low and tamed the beast, christening it Durgan, and brought it into the service of the Imperium. Riding atop her new partner she was terrifying sight, bringing peace wherever she went by leaving dissidents in pieces. Just like her idol. Personality: Lorelai is a zealous devotee to the Imperium and it's perseverance. To the citizenry and the loyal she is warm and genial, but to the brigand and rebel she is a merciless terror. In the face of her idol she may as well be a blushing school girl, and will do anything in her power to meet her standards as Lorelai perceives them. She possesses an unshakeable will in the face of adversity, though is weak against the admonishment of her superiors. Lorelai firmly believes that everything she does is for the good of the Imperium, and that what is good for the Imperium is good for all. Doubt never enters her mind on the righteous of their cause, and every day the Imperium can stand tall is another with which Lorelai is happy with her life. Tome: In it's sealed form Lorelai's tome is ebon in color with a scarlet inlay for decoration. Released, and it becomes an Imperial standard whose pole is as unbreakable as her iron will. The purpose of this flag is that it allows Lorelai to channel earth shattering bursts of concussive force, primarily through three mediums. First, Lorelai channels the force through her body, usually done to increase the force behind her limbs or released outwards to repel something within arms reach. Second, an object Lorelai is in contact with is propelled under tremendous force, typically used to propel rocks, arrows, or whatever Lorelai can get her hands on and make them deadly projectiles. Third, the force is directed into and released via another party, such as releasing the force through the hind legs of a steed she is riding to propel them forward. This requires continuous physical contact and concentration to perform with harming the channeled party. Other: Lorelai is never seen far from her mount, Durgan. In combat, while her tome is her primary weapon she also carries a common place sword that is easily lost or broken, so Durgan carries of quiver of swords on his side for easy replacement.</s> <|message|>Jessi "Jess" Phalax Jessi "Wait!" Jessi called out once again as Fei took off. Luckily this time she was headed to a safe location as opposed to a random spot in the forest. Still, Jessi was getting tired of chasing her all around Orello, especially since she made it clear she wasn't in the mood to have him around. Hell thinking about it she didn't even say a word to him this morning! Regardless, it was Jessi's job to watch over her whether they were getting along or not. But first, seeing as Fei didn't want to address the fact her aunt was here, he decided he would. "Well, if you want to wander aimlessly go for it. I, on the other hand, have to chase down your not neice and make sure she doesn't get in anymore fights on the way back." The boy made no effort to hide the disdain in his voice. "However, I'm sure Lady Eleonor or your not sister as it were, has been wanting to see you. Since I'm going that way I would be happy to show you to her residence if you would like?" @BlueAjah@TheWindel</s> <|message|>Chen Chideta Chen Chideta --- Chen focused on the forest intently, trying to find the fleeing Fae so he could get their Legend Relic. It was powerful, the Librarian would want it. Their war would end, he would make sure of it. And the next step was this Legend Relic. And hey, if justice could be served while doing so, all the better. Then Ruxen shook Chen, breaking his concentration with a simple nudge. "Huh? Oh. Yes, that is likely correct." Chen shook his head and stood up, stopping the mana flow to the Relic and putting it away. The sparks along his skin stopped and his eyes returned to their normal blue, like he hadn't just channeled one of the greatest powers known to man. "We should get going. Where is Mikoto?" She needed to meet with The Librarian if she really had a Legend Relic, though he suddenly got the feeling that wasn't the case. @TheWindel</s>

<|message|>Lorelai General Yenma was well and truly out of earshot by the time Lorelai actually moved. It was only a twitch, a spasm of the facial muscles, but it was all that was needed to kick start her brain after the complete shutdown she had gone through. How else does one react to every single thing that has hit the Abyssal Knight right in the gut in this morning alone? She hadn't even had breakfast before her world had been overturned and burned to ash. Lorelai's idol had been overcome, captured, and violated by the cruelest creature to still haunt the Imperium. All of that was made possible by the cooperation of another Knight of the Order of Ragnorak who had conspired against Lady Eleanor for reasons unknown. Then came the family affairs of Lady Eleanor as well as the spy who brought word of the conspiracy's reach going ever farther. Now the uninvolved members of the Order of Ragnorak were being replaced without any past murmurings or reasons that Lorelai could recall. If she were not such a sychophantic devotee of Lady Eleanor and knew that she would need to hear of these ill tidings, Lorelai may have had significantly more trouble compartmentalizing all this news then a simple twitch. Turning with some stiffness, Lorelai took note of the remarkably patient man whose clattering pipe told her that shock was expression on many people's faces today. "Forgive me Sev, as much as I would normally love to take up your offer for amicable combat, I will have to postpone this bout in light of recent events. With my duties multiplying by the minute I will have little time to spare. However, if you'd be willing to arrive with the dawn tomorrow, I could work in a match as part of my morning drills. In the meantime, I ask you to be tactful with what you have heard hear today, and may the Imperator protect you in these turbulent times." After having offered Sev what she could, Lorelai returned to the dining room where she found nothing of note had really happened. "By the Jester's suggestion, the Imperator has announced that there shall be new holders of the title Midgard and Nifelheim. I don't claim to be the most knowledgeable of Imperial politics, but I would say that unless the prior two were corrupt in totality, then our position has considerably weakened against this conspiracy. Oh, and I may be having an exhibition with an old man named Sev in the morning, so don't let the noise keep you from slumber."</s>

<|description|>Matthew O'Connor Age: 18 Gender: Male Caste Ranking Vault Citizen Physical Description/Appearance: Standing at about 6 foot even, Matthew is not much of an imposing figure. His weight bounces around 165 to 170 pounds, mostly extra fat coming and going. That being said, he is in pretty good shape. Matthew does not have an Olympian body, but throughout the last 4 years of school he tried to maintain a nice physique. Sparse light brown hairs cover his arms and legs, not too much and it is not too thick, but it is there. His head is covered by a thick layer of light brown hair. It is cut nicely with shorter sides and a top that is only a little bit thicker. Matthew has deep, sometimes piercing, blue eyes. His facial hair is a thick, short cut, brown beard and mustache. On his right forearm, down the side, Murphy has a scar from when he broke his arm and the bone pierced the skin. As far as tattoos and piercings, he has none. When it comes to attire, Matthew can be seen wearing one of his two Vault 24 jump suits. The one he wears the most is the non-gym jumpsuit. The gym jumpsuit has sweat and odor embedded into it from years of working hard in the iron church (gym). Biography: Eighteen years ago, the O'Connor family found out that they were having a child. It was a joyous occasion for them. The O'Connor's has been trying for a child for many months but it just never seemed to go their way. Finally, however, Mrs. O'Connor became pregnant. It seemed like a miracle. It was a miracle. And nine months later, a young boy by the name of Matthew was born. Mrs. O'Connor did not pass away during the pregnancy and there were no complications. It was a perfect birth for the O'Connor's perfect child. When they returned home and put Matthew in his cradle for the first time, they felt that their lives were finally complete. Mr. O'Connor worked in the Vault's farm irrigation system, repairing it and monitoring water conditions to make sure that the correct water (no chemical imbalances or radiation) was being sprayed onto the vegetables that were being grown. The Vault's farm though was a newer concept. One of the Overseer's, after years of studying and hard work, figured out how to make a farm work underground. For three years, the Overseer and some of his top scientists worked on creating this farm. Afterwards they trained a select few individuals to oversee the farm and it's systems. Mr. O'Connor was one such person. Mrs. O'Connor was an educator. Now an educator is different from a teacher. A teacher will have the same students for all 12 years of their lives. An educator takes in students, of all ages, who sign up to learn about specific things. Mrs. O'Connor was a wildlife educator. She taught children and adults about Pre-War wildlife. The Overseer assigned her this specific task to help keep morale up in the Vault. He figured that if people had hope of seeing this kind of wildlife eventually, they would be happier and would work harder. The Overseer never planned on allowing any of them into the Wastes to try and find these animals. Growing up Matthew was not a problem child. He had a pleasant disposition from a young age. Optimism, curiosity, honesty, hard worker, and driven. These were just some of the terms that came to identify Matthew by the time he reached his teenage years. That being said, when Matthew was in the sixth grade, he got into a fist fight with one of his classmates. Matthew was always a stand-up guy. From a young age, Matthew had a strong sense of morality, of right and wrong. This was instilled into him by his hard working father. This led to his sixth grade brawl. A classmate was picking on a girl for being a Ref. Now Matthew did not personally care for the Refs but his father told him that they had worked hard and earned their place in the Vault, so naturally when he saw the young girl getting picked on, he had to stand up for her. The bully did not take kindly to being challenged and this led to a fight. There was no real winner, Mr. Lancaster separated the two boys rather quickly, but Matthew did get a few good hits in. Matthew and the girl went on to be friends for awhile but then their friendship was strained by growing discontent between the Ref population and the Vault citizen population. Though it was in vain, Matthew tried to maintain his friendship with the girl. The later years of school went by without a hitch. Every time Matthew got the opportunity, he would sign up for his mother's class and take it. By age 16, he was well versed in the Pre-War animals. He had even gotten his hands on some books from the Laboratory regarding animals. If Matthew was not studying animal biology, he was shadowing his father down in the irrigation systems or assisting his mother with her class. With school, personal studying, and then work, Matthew did not have much free time. The free time that he did have was separated into one of two activities. Friends or working out. He alternated. Every other day he would work out and on the off days he would be around his group of friends. The friends that Matthew kept were similar to him. All hard workers. They understood their place in the Vault and were trying to become the perfect Vault citizens. Matthew's personal circle of friends consisted of three people (not including himself). That being said, Matthew also enjoyed interacting with as many of his classmates, and other people, as possible. He bloomed into a very outgoing young man. Honesty, drive, optimism, hard work, and curiosity all carried on into his later teenage years. Most people knew Matthew as a stand-up guy. Work Test Results: THOUGH MATTHEW HAS NOT SEEN HIS RESULTS YET, HERE THEY ARE. Being well-versed in animal biology helped Matthew get set onto a very interesting course. Back 50 years prior, when the Refs entered the Vault, they brought with them domesticated Mole Rats. The domesticated Mole Rats served one purpose and one purpose only. To eat. It took about three years for the Overseer to accept it, but Mole Rat breeding and butchering was the future of food in the Vault. Many people were disgusted by this at first, but after years and years of breeding irradiated flesh OUT of them, people finally accepted the Mole Rats as an acceptable food source. When it comes to the Mole Rats there are two types of jobs related to them. The animal husbandry job and the butchering job. Matthew was assigned the role of Animal Care and Husbandry Specialist. Other:</s> <|message|>Elijah Bonnell As Elijah was working on repairing the weapons. He overheard a call on the radio since the armory was in the same room al the security officers. Apparently a gunfight had broken out between refugees and vault security officers and from the sound of it the security officers were losing. From what was heard it was one of the most traumatic events to happen in this vault. If the refugees lost. Those still alive could face execution of banishment, same for those associated with them. " fuck this is bad. Like really bad." Elijah said. The security chief looked at him. "Yes it is." Since he was a pure blood vault citizen he didn't have to worry about a thing. "Elijah was really worried now. "sir if the refugees lose I could face death, since the overseers aren't so kind to use refugees. I don't want to die. I still haven't even lived yet. What should I do?" Elijah asked the old man. The old man sat there and thought for a bit. "You could always open the vault door and try to escape. And take your chances in the wasteland. " he said quietly. For what they were talking about was treason, and during times of difficulty treason could very well kill you. Elijah looked at him confused. " but sir how? And we don't have any food or water or weapons. Plus doesn't the vault door require a passcode?" Elijah asked. " ha for a vault door all you have to do is pull down a lever and that opens the door. And since nothing is happening between the outside world and here it'd be unguarded so you could easily escape. For supplies that's pretty easy as well see all the stuff brought in by the refugees is still in the security checkpoint before the vault. All the contraband that is plus some of the old prewar food. So you could technically requisition some supplies from there and be fine. " the old man said. "Plus with all the Maintenance workers being sick the vault is going to be overactive and nobody is going to be paying attention to the entrance." The old man said. " thank you sir" Elijah said " I'm not feeling to well I think I might've are something wrong earlier. I'm going to be in the bathroom for a bit." And with that Elijah walked out of the armory and started to speed walk to the bathroom while holding his stomach and groaning in distress. The good thing is the closest bathrooms where outside of vault security so he could easily get out and once he was out he could easily make his way to the vault entrance. But how would he warn people of what was going to happen.</s> <|message|>Katherine 'Kat' Harris Kat thought about Matthew's proposition, still biting the nail of her thumb. "Nah, I think I'll check out the tattoo parlor for right now" She said, turning and heading towards said parlor. The gunshots were increasing in amount and volume. She could even hear screaming and chanting floating up the vents. She was really rather worried now, but she hoped that visiting the parlor would at least take her mind of things. The parlor was very close to the atrium, and looked like it hadn't been used in decades. There was dust everywhere, and the equipment was practically rusted to the table it sat on. Kat sighed, she pulled a broom out of a closet nearby and began cleaning up. She could still hear the gunshots, but at least she had something to keep her occupied. The room wasn't exactly spacious, with just a stool and a dentist chair in the centre of the room along with a table against the wall near the back. The broom closet was embedded into the wall and only really had the broom and a few other small cleaning supplies in there. As a result of the small space, the room was rather warm, and the dust wasn't exactly helping. Kat took off her leather jacket and laid it down on the now 'clean' table. She rolled her jumpsuits sleeves up to her elbows and zipped it down slightly to reveal the top of her tank top. She wiped her brow with her sleeve. In all fairness, a leather jacket in an area like the vault wasn't the greatest idea because of the enclosed space. But an extremely small space like this was just too much heat for something like that.</s>

<|message|>Matthew O'Connor It seemed as if no one was going to take Matthew up on his offer so he decided to depart to his living quarters on his own. With a quick movement of his hand, he waved, a sign to the rest of the group that he was leaving them, for now. And once that formality was dealt with, Matthew Matthew left. His Vault issued boots, rubber and leather, smacked up and down as he walked down the Vault hallways. Matthew reached out his hand from his hand, letting his fingertips brush up against the metal walls of the Vault. These metal walls surrounding him were home, they had been his whole life. They represented a prison to some. There were people in the Vault, younger generations, who thought that things would be better on the outside. Obviously they had never listened to the Refs when their elders discussed the outside world. Yes, to some this was a prison. But to Matthew these walls represented safety, safety from the outside world. Even though there were those that wanted to explore the outside world and be free, Matthew was not one of them. When Matthew arrived at his home he pressed a few buttons next to the door and it quickly lifted open. Inside his mother was reading. The book was entitled Animals of the Deep. "New book Mom?" He asked. She looked up from her book and smiled at her son. "I'm going to start teaching the kids about big fish. Sharks, whales, dolphins, that kind of stuff" she said. Matthew smiled, "that's awesome" he said. "Did you know that sharks would lose an average of one tooth every time they took a bite and that, on average, they lose like 30,000 teeth in a life time. Nature is... was amazing" her smile almost became a frown. Matthew knew that his mother yearned to see the wildlife of the past, but he also knew that that would almost certainly never happen. The only animals she ever got to interact with were Mole Rats and regular rats and mice. "Love you Mom" Matthew said before disappearing into his room. Resting on his bed was a letter, from the Overseer. Matthew was actually surprised that it was folded and prepared so nicely. Slowly he unfolded it. Nervousness completely enveloped his mind. The whole main portion of the letter was just a word from one of the Overseers, one that was told to every graduating student, and Matthew just groaned as he skimmed it. Finally he came to the bottom. Animal Care and Husbandry Specialist it read. "Well what in the fuck is that?" he said to himself. "Language Matty!" His mother yelled from the other room. --------- Civil War The fight down in the Ref Living Quarters continued. Blood spattered the halls of the Ref Living Quarters. Even though the Security Forces were clearly better armed than the Refs, the Refs severely outnumbered the Forces. Bullet holes riddled the walls all over. Bodies covered the floors. It was a terrible bloodbath. The Ref forces killed more and more Officers as the battle continued. That meant that there were more weapons getting into the hands of the Refs. Security Forces made a push from the elevator down the hallway a little bit, but then they were halted. Some Ref forces had doubled back around the battle and attacked the Officers from behind. Knives were sunk into the backs of the Officers. Bats cracked against their necks and helmets. Guns fired into the backs of their heads. The battle was over. The Refs won. After the battle, the Ref population began to go over their losses and treat the wounded. The more experienced Refs began to discuss a plan of action. They came to the conclusion that it would be best to kill the Overseers. --------- Overseer's Office Thick crimson fluid poured across the steel floor of the Overseers Office. Both of the Overseers shared the office. A thick layer had now covered the floor of the Office. But not a single sound escaped from the Office.</s>

<|description|>Joe Verona Nicknames: Joe-it-all Joe is the son of the mechanic Arin Verona, working in Smith's rest, which allowed Joe to get to see a few NCs in his life while his father was working on them. He also picked up a bunch of scientific knowledge regarding engineering from him. An old but still post-cataclysm computer was a gift for his 13th birthday; it only had a commandline interface, although it was possible for it to display and generate images. Especially the lack of a graphical user interface paved the way for Joe to learn much about computing with his remainder of a child's ability to learn complex systems quickly, given sufficient interest. About two years ago the financial situation of the family got really bad, so Arin decided to sell Joe's computer. Unfortunatly without consulting him first. The very same day Joe noticed and snapped, punching his father in the head during the rage which lasted only a few seconds before he regained control. The force of the punch was great enough to break his hand and permanently damage his father's brain. As a result of the damage, Arin's long-term memory is unable to store new memories, although previous memories from before that day remain unaffected.Age: 26 Personality: Joe is usually the analytical type, using knowledge to his advantage. It is very hard to anger him, and if he is in a rage it only lasts for seconds, but during those seconds he is capable of anything, except staying calm and analytical. height: 1.79m normal weight, although closer to underwheight than to overwheight pale as a vampireTactical preference/skills:Joe isn't really cut out for combat, mostly because his tendency to overanalize his situation lowers his reaction-time significantly; in some situations 2 seconds pass before he can react. As such he usually prefers to be in safe locations during a battle, being rather involved in communications, tactics or cyber-warfare(taking remote control of an enemy unit and the like). He is not a great tactitian despite his analytical nature though Other things of note: NERD!!! Code-Name: Swarm Body-Plan: A general humanoid, although armored and handless. Where the hand would normally be is instead a currently unoccupied weapon or utility slot Type/Quality: It acts as a ranged unit, taking out both grounded and airborn targets, preferably out of their range. Middling-low * The 22 missile launcher have a reload time of 40 seconds and it takes about 4 seconds to fire an entire volley of missiles. * To ease targeting and target-prioritizing, the head is equipped if a more powerful radar, which can manually be focussed in any direction to increase its range in that direction a bit. * The Swarm is equipped with 2 guidance systems: + A cruise missile controller for precise strikes with single missles + An IR-laser to aim at whatever a volley of heat-seekers shall target. The laser itself has not enough power to do any damage on its own General Description: The Swarm Is a heavier, hunchbacked unit with an extreme focus on long range combat and defensive armaments. It features numerous long-range high mobility missile launchers, and it would have a high-powered plasma cannon in the waist, but that mount is currently unoccupied. As well, the Swarm has an interesting backpack design suited for aerodynamics and in-atmosphere flight speed, effectively meaning that while it's slow as mollasses on the ground, its actually sort of fast in the air. However, if the backpack was hit by a heavier weapon, due to speedy and shoddy construction, it does have a chance to damage the rest of the unit. Thus, the pilot should always point towards the enemy.</s> <|message|>NCQuest Codex Time passed, Duncan and Percy had a private conversation, but when the four hours came up, everyone was seated into their NC's and ready to go. With the neural connection came the strange feeling of having two bodies at once, one inside the other. As well, connecting into a different NC after using another was often times uncomfortable, even painful. It was like having your skin replaced, carefully, but it was still a very awkward and painful feeling. However, they could feel what the NC was feeling. A Heads-Up-Display was naturally in their vision when something was to be addressed, fading in and out of existence when needed. They could maneuver their fingers, and the NC's hand did the same motions, if it had a hand. Weapons, activating them was like pulling a trigger, ones on the back or other places having additional faux-hands the pilot could manipulate to actually fire them. Of course, the 'hand' was really just the actual, mechanical trigger, but it did feel like a hand. If you wanted to fly, you could just think you wanted to and you would. Of course, a mental 'confirm' was needed, but that could be done in attoseconds. NC's really were a marvel of engineering and neuroscience. If only such advanced technologies were used for something more productive... "Exit the Hangar.", the captain could be heard, speaking into everyones' ears. Well, that was how a comms-link felt. Of course, a radio actually received it normally and told the neural computer it did, and the neural computer connected to the neural plug and messed with the brain in such a way to get a perfect recreation of what was heard directly into their mind. The doors would open, and each pilot would move their NC's towards their own door, one through five. "Initiate long range cruise modes. Blur, pick up Mad-E and help ferry her to the beacon." With that, a faint, red orb could be seen in the distance in every NC pilots' view, how they saw a beacon in the field. Blur picked up the Mad-E, it having the most powerful thrusters of the quintet did make it the most obvious choice for a ferrying unit. It didn't do wonders for fuel efficiency, but they'd never have to worry about that on the field. The squad, having no official name, flew across the sky for what felt like a small eternity, but was truly just 3/4ths of an hour or so. Even being slowed down by needing to carry one of its members', a squad of NC's in long-range cruise mode were pretty damn fast. Of course, that was mainly because all available power was put into the engines, and it took a few moments for them to get back into 'combat mode'. In any case, they eventually arrived at the perimeter of the beacon, a few kilometers away from the site itself. Here, they were ordered to enter combat mode, and "Follow the plan. Remember, no matter what, you're all in NC's. You can handle whatever comes at you. Swarm, Blur, commence the breach."</s> <|message|>Joe Verona The door that was to be opened was a large one, about the same size, but still notably bigger compared to the ones they came out of earlier. Snow was everywhere, a massive field of white surrounded the entrance, built into a hill. "Entering total radio silence to initiate wireless hack." Joe reported to the base-station and his teammates, and then disabled all EM-transmitters, while leaving the recievers online. He initiated a full scan of the entire recievable spectrum to check whether a wireless access-point, if one existed, announced its existance. Thankfully, one did, with minimal struggle. It appeared to be 'public' and able to be accessed easily. As the scan quickly turned up one, Joe quickly checked the SSID transmitted by the access-point's broadcast whether or not it belonged to the door(or even to the base), and if the connection was encrypted or not. The SSID did belong to the door, and it appeared to have relatively simplistic encryption. Joe quickly checked if the NC's computer contained some software to break such a simple encryption. The fact that the encryption was so lightly for a self-announcing wireless access-point in a military base surprised him a littlebit, and made him somewhat suspicious on whether or not this was a honeypot, a fake access-point to reroute a hacker to where he cannot do any damage. All NC's had basic hacking tools installed for this sort of duty. Definitely nothing major, but it often opened avenues. Or, in this case, doors. As Joe was quite obviously the team's hacker due to his backstory, his NC's hacking software had a few improvements as well, compared to the others'. Joe just let it run on that access-point. As the base's personell stopped responding either way, the hack wouldn't really increase any danger. Once he was connected he checked what systems were connected to the wireless transmitter and connected to the one that he thought was controlling the door. The help-manual of the door-controlling system really helped get a hang of the details of the controls allowing him to pretty much open the door with 1 console command transmitted wirelessly. He disconnected after the door started moving, and ended his radio silence. "As you can see, I did my magic here." Joe commented on his success over the radio. The hallway that revealed itself as the door open was suspiciously damaged, and Joe's view would have had a HUD added to it, if he didn't modify his interface. He would get a notification, in any case. "Abnormal Radioactivity detected. Ally WESSEX in danger if damaged." "Ok guys, we got increased radiation in there, Wessex, make sure your cockpit is pretty much airtight, or the radioactive materials might get in. You should all keep in mind though, being exposed to ionizing radiation(the ones emitted by radioactive materials as well) is different from being exposed to radioactive materials." Jingo would get a notifaction from his NC, confirming it. If he was damaged too much, he would likely get irradiated. That was never good!</s> <|message|>Elizabeth Jackspar Once again Eli was failed by the second-hand information she was given, and when the experience that came with fully syncing with the NC kicked in, everything was, for a moment, overwhelming. She didn't feel like herself, she felt bigger. Not exactly taller, or heavier, but her presence as a whole felt enlarged. All the the minute yet countless processes the NC went through merely to remain balanced and standing flooded her mind, replacing her thoughts with equations and astronomical feats of engineering. Then at the end of a moment, she got the reigns back, and sat --or rather now, stood-- in silence. Her hands moved without explicit command, her fingers clenched and her legs moved with ease. It took a minute for her to settle into the second skin, but when she did the NC felt closer than anything she'd ever worn before. She wasn't sure how she felt about the HUD though. While everything else felt second-nature, the way her vision had changed felt distinctly mechanical. Was is practical? Yes. Was it invaluable on the battlefield? Yes. Did it send a chill up her spine every time a tiny mechanical sound accompanied the movement of her eyes? Yes. Once Blur had left the hanger, her attention turned to cannon-laden NC called Mad-E. Huh, "Mad-E". At least it would be simple to remember. She made her way over and hooked her arms beneath the other NC's, before standing back up. Or trying to, anyway. Without the aid of the thrusters, Blur's light weight became evident, and within her cockpit Eli would feel the strain of her futile attempt on her arms. Flight systems, let's go Nothing happened. Flight systems Upon the insistent confirmation, the multiple engine's in Blur's frame revved to life. That was a feeling she had no frame of reference for. Nothing felt so alien as activating a part of yourself you didn't know you had. However while she was unprepared for the sensation, training had made her ready for the application. She rose into the air, Mad-E in her hold, and felt the strain ease away. Before long they were off, making progress towards the beacon blinking artificially in her vision. For a moment she opened communications with the other girl, intending to request that she not move on the trip. "Try to avoid mov--" and as quickly as she'd opened the link she closed it. The overflow of noise coming from the other girl's end was nearly deafening, and Blur stuttered in the air as inside Eli jolted in her seat. Never mind, Madison probably got the idea anyway. - When they finally reached their destination, Blur was quick to set Mad-E down before landing herself. The feel of the engines whirring slowly died down, which she was happy for. Interesting as the new feeling had been, she preferred to get used to all of the things she normally felt before throwing in new ones. While she did, Joe, piloting the veritable one-man-artillery NC, approached the entrance and did his work to open it. Over the comms they were told the Wessex --which must have been Jingo-- would be in danger should he take damage. Remembering what the captain had told them back at base, it likely meant he would be accompanying her into the barracks. It wasn't ideal, things would be tough enough if she had to defend civilians without having to worry about her frail teammate. But she'd make do, if Jingo was smart he'd stick close, and if he wasn't there wouldn't be much she could do about it. The mission came first, he would have to understand those priorities just as much as she did. Blur started on into the facility, taking from the weapon slots on her lower back the handle of her beam sword. The other she knew was embedded into the hull of her left wrist, but she had more training with proper swords --or practice swords anyway-- and knew that if anything came up, that would be her best choice. "Let's get going," she said, opening a channel with Jingo.</s>

<|message|>Joe Verona Just as some of them had stepped through the door, Joe quickly asked "Oh, one thing before we separate: Is it ok if I close the door behind us? We do not know the nature of the radioactive material, so it is best to keep it as contained as possible for the moment.", after almost having forgotten. "If you need to quickly get out and I am not available, blast through as a last resort. A hole is harder to close than an open door. Otherwise, wait there and keep in mind the radiation and the ground will interfere with our comms." With that, Joe headed for the central reactor, while also keeping a close eye on the geiger-counter. Too much radiation exposure wouldn't only hurt him, but a high dose has the potential to short electronics, rendering almost any device inoperable. As radioactive material had already leaked and at least partially gotten near the entrance of the base, sealing the reactor directly had a slightly lower priority than finding out the nature of the radioactive material, as the base's door already acted as a seal. If it was just radioactive gas, it was relatively easy to deal with(just let it escape into the atmosphere, if the amount is small enough, it will disperse and thus its effect will weaken to the point of being much smaller than the natural background radiation), airborn dust was much harder, simply because it could be washed out of the air by rain, concentrating the material on the ground. Liquids and solids were similarly difficult to deal with.</s>

<|description|>Lawrence Betelgeuse Age: Mid thirties Gender: Male Occupation: Used car salesman Personality: He uses humor to hide the fact that he's one bad day from stepping in front of a train. Lawrence likes to ignore his problems in hopes that they'll go away. He has everyone he works with fooled into thinking that he's a funny, confident, and maybe even crass comedy man. When, really, he's just a sad, lonely guy trying to make ends meet and wishing that his insane, shitty mom would stop showing up in his life. History: Lawrence grew up in Connecticut with his parents. His dad was a normal, if not emotionally repressed, guy. His mom was batshit insane. Lawrence's father constantly turned a blind eye to the abuse his mother enacted on him, the bruises, the cigarette burns, being locked out of the house all night. Finally, one day, his father 'went to by a case of beer', and never came back. Being left alone with his mother made Lawrence's life a hundred times more miserable, so, around his teens, he began to act out and hang around with the wrong crowd. He wouldn't even come home most nights. Lawrence dropped out of business school in his early twenties and managed to obtain a used car lot, which made him just enough money to live on. He became known for his gimmicky commercials and hilarious persona. But, when he came home to his shitty apartment every night, the facade fell away. He wasn't happy. He was never happy. About a year ago, his father came back into his life. Lawrence had hope that maybe he'd have at least one parent's approval and affection, but he soon found out that his father was only coming to him because he had cancer, and needed someone to pay for his treatments. Lawrence, being a push over when it came to his parents, did so. This incurred the wrath of his mother, who eventually found out. After that hell, his father still passed a few months ago. Lawrence was still alone, still hated by his mom, and still broke. He managed to find a house that he could put a 0% down payment on, and was rock bottom cheap. Apparently the two schmucks that lived there before kicked it in the basement or something. Whatever, he doesn't believe in ghosts, anyway.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse "Wait!" Adam followed her out the door, then froze when he got to the bottom of the stairs. Their house...their beautiful, immaculate house...was a total pig sty! There were food containers laying about, dirty clothes piled everywhere, and bottle after empty bottle of cheap, shitty beer. The living room didn't have any furniture aside from a grungy couch, a crooked table, and a TV sat on a stool. A man was slumped over on the couch, slack jawed, the TV still going. Adam walked around to get a look at him, Barbara behind him. "This is who bought our house?" She asked. "Adam, he's trashed the place! We have to get rid of him!" "But how, Barbara? He can't see us, and we aren't scary!" The man stirred a little. Barbara glared at him. "Adam. We're ghosts, dammit. Let's...HAUNT THIS BITCH!" "Barbara!" She grabbed him under the arm and hauled him upstairs. They were going to find a way to get this nasty slob out of here! Meanwhile, Lawrence began to stir. He sat up slowly. He could have sworn he just heard people talking...maybe he'd just drunk too much... He rested his throbbing head in his palms, then leaned over to pick up his phone. Six missed called from 'Mom'. "Argh!" He tossed the phone down and rubbed his face. He'd only been living here a few days when she'd shown up on the doorstep, cursing and yelling and trying to force her way in. That was a few months ago, and life had just gone downhill since then. The car lot wasn't doing too hot, bills were piling up, and he only ever felt like laying on the couch, sleeping. He stood and slowly drug himself up the stairs towards the bedroom. About that time, two people with bedsheets thrown over their heads came around the corner, making really cheesy ghost sounds. "The fuck?" Lawrence squinted. He was too hung over for this shit. "Did I have a crackhead orgy and forget about it?" The two "ghosts" paused. "NoOoOoOoO We'Re GhOstS!" Adam said in a wailing voice. "Did you two break in here to steal shit? Because I don't have any-" "No! We're here to haunt you! We want you out of our house!" Barbara snapped. Beetlejuice raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I bought this house fair and square. Also, ghosts aren't real." He grabbed a nearby hockey stick and used it to lift the bottom of Barbara's ghost sheet. "What're ya' wearin' under there? Nothing? Ya'll some kinky ghosts?" Barbara scoffed and swatted the stick away. "You aren't scared of us?" "No...why would I be scared of two dorks in sheets? Also, why did you break into my house?" "We're ghosts, and this is our house!" Adam insisted. "Wait...you can see us without the sheets?" He slowly pulled his off. Lawrence looked pretty disappointed that they weren't actually naked under them. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be able to?" Barbara floated up through the floor in front of him to prove her point. "Because the living shouldn't be able to see us! That's what that woman said." Lawrence jumped back, a little startled, but hardly frightened. "Oh shit...so you two are...like, real ghosts?" "Yes! That's what we've been telling you this whole time!" Adam was getting frustrated. "Now, if you could so kindly leave our house forever-" "Whoa whoa whoa. Ghosts or not, I bought this house with my bottom dollar. I'm not leaving," Lawrence crossed him arms huffily. "Not even two sexy ghosts can change my mind. Actually, it might be a better reason to stay!" He cackled. Barbara let out an indignant cry and grabbed Adam, pulling him up towards the ceiling and back into the attic to revise their plan. Lawrence watched them, his grin falling almost as soon as they were gone. Huh, so there was an afterlife...He wondered if it was any better than his current one. Well, only one way to find out! Lawrence made his way to the roof to test his theory. It wasn't like this hadn't been in the back of his mind for a while now, anyway.</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz Lydia was moping on the roof, knees drawn towards her chest. What was the point of even trying? She was invisible and always will be. She sighed softly before noticing someone else had joined her on the roof. Hey, it's the Breather who bought this place. What's he doing up here? She wondered before floating over to him. "Whoa, dude, back away from the edge! Are you trying to kill yourself?" She exclaimed when seeing how close he was to falling to a death that would definitely involve multiple broken bones.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse Lawrence slowly stumbled out to the edge of the roof. He definitely wasn't very coordinated. Being hung over didn't help. He was looking down in the yard, thinking his options over, when he heard another voice. God, was he finally losing it? He turned to see some woman he'd never met floating beside him. How many ghosts did this house have?! "Yeah," He said casually. "I was thinking about aiming for that bird bath over there. Think I can make it?"</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "Wait, you can...see me?" Lydia asked, tears of joy stinging her eyes. Finally, someone who could see her! She was going to have a new best friend! Wait a second, aiming for the birdbath? He was going to- "NOOOOO!" She shouted before composing herself. "I mean, no. Look, you could use a buddy, right? Don't cha want a pal? Don't end yourself dude, stand up for yourself. I can be your friend if you just say my name."</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse Lawrence was already judging how far he'd have to jump to impale himself on that bird bath when the ghost woman stopped him. He straightened up, frowning. What did she care if he killed himself? She was a ghost herself! He crossed his arms, not looking convinced. "Look lady, I'm very busy here. I don't have money for whatever ghostly self help program you're running. And besides, I don't even know your name!"</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "I don't want your money. As for my name, I can't say it, like at all. Can't write it, the letters get jumbled. Same with spelling." She explained, a little frustrated. Come on, sucker, I need you to say my name. She thought to herself.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse He sighed. "How am I supposed to say your name if I don't know it. You wanna...play charades or something?" This was dumb. He could be halfway to ghost purgatory by now.</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "Yes, perfect!" Lydia exclaimed. "It one word but three clues." She said before holding up a finger to indicate the first clue before turning herself into a Tupperware container and opening the lid.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse "Oh, shit, uh," Lawrence really sucked at this game. "Left overs? Take out? Tupperware? Plastic? Lid?"</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "No, no. Close but no. No. Yes, that's it!" Lydia replied turning back into herself with a grin. "Okay, second clue." She said before turning into a giant eyeball. This was honestly an easy one.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse "Uh...look? See? Eyeball? Eye?"</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "That last one! Okay, third and final clue." She said before pulling out a report card full of A's.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse "Pass? Honor roll? Grade? A?"</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "Nope. Nah-uh. Close. Bingo! Now put it together." She said. She was so close to freedom!</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse "Lid-eye-A!" Lawrence was so confident when he said it, too.</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "Close but change that eye to sound a bit more E." She advised. Geez, even when he got it he was dumb. Then again he was a Breather, so she couldn't fully blame him.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse "Lydia?" He tilted his head, "Your name is Lydia?"</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "Yes! Now all you gotta do is say my name three times, spoken unbroken. Deal?" God she could taste freedom it was that close.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse Lawrence blinked. Then, a devious grin spread across his face. "Okay. Lydia...Lydia...Llllllook here. I see what you're trying to do here. You think that just because I'm some sad sack about to jump off his roof to his death that you can come in here and push me around? Well I got news for you Lydia, Lydia, Lady you're dealing with the wrong guy. I know a con when I see one." Meanwhile downstairs, the Maitlands were trying to clean up. The TV, still running, suddenly cut to a commercial. "Betelgeuse's gently used cars! Ladies and gents, these are the best prices in town!" Lawrence was dressed up in a cowboy outfit, using a fake southern accent. "So come on down here and wrangle up these savings! I'll do anything to sell you a car! I'll even chew on a dog! Ahrooooo!" The commercial cut to something else. Adam glanced at Barbara. "He sells used cars?" "His last name is Betelgeuse?" "Barbara, look at this mess. This is someone who is struggling, and, and we're trying to put him out of his own house!" "It's our house, Adam." "That he bought. I mean...he might be gross, maybe a little sketchy, but we shouldn't put him out on the street. He's clearly going through something here." "You're right," Barbara said, "We should go find him and apologize."</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "Yes. Yes! Oh man this is going to be grea-wait what?" She said as he said her name before chewing her out. "Whoa, look, buddy, chum, pal. I'm just trying to do ya a solid. Isn't that what friends do? Whatdaya want? Qualifications? I graduated from Julliard, I've a great bio exorcist, and I've seen The Exorcist 167 times, AND IT GETS FUNNIER EVERYTIME I SEE IT! HOW'S THAT FOR QUALIFIED?!" She shouted before her head spun around like a top. "Whoa, almost lost my head." She commented as she grabbed on to stop it.</s> <|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse Lawrence opened his mouth to say something, but the Maitlands arrived on the scene before he could. "Uh, Mr. Betelgeuse?" Barbara asked, approaching him sheepishly. "Lawrence," he corrected her. "We just wanted to-" Adam started to say something, but stopped when he saw Lydia. "Whoa, what is she doing here? Don't listen to anything she says, Lawrence! She's trying to trick you!" "Yeah, no shit," He shrugged. "I kinda' figured."</s> <|message|>Lydia Deetz "Trick him?!" Lydia exclaimed before letting out an offended choked noise. "I'd never do that! All I did was help my new pal know my name, that's all." She looked over at Lawrence, standing near the edge of the roof. "Look, maybe I was a little aggressive on the sell. But we're BFF's forever, right?"</s>

<|message|>Lawrence Betelgeuse Lawrence eyed the ledge behind her. "Yeah, best pals for life," he waltzed over and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just kidding. Get fucked, Lyds!" He shoved her off the roof. "Lawrence!" The Maitlands cried in unison. "What? She's fine. Right?!" He called over the edge. He didn't wait for a response. "I'm going back inside."</s>

<|description|>Duuka Race: Vorcha Sex:Male Age: Five. Class: Solder, Security Officer/Marine. Appearance: Slightly smaller then the average Vorcha, Duuka seems to lack much of the bodily 'improvements' that come from the vorcha's biology, suggesting that he was born somewhere that is much less hostile than Heshtok. While his skin is a pale white, Duuka is really seen without a blue and purple kind of war paint on his face, done up in a poor pattern of some kind; Those with the eye for it might recognize it as a pattern and color scheme akin to something that the quarians use for their suits, through poorly done. His eyes are a deep red color. Background: Born in a dark corner of the space station of Omega, Duuka was just one of many young mouths that needed to be fed in an environment that didn't provide food to do so. Despite being newly born, he fought with his newly born siblings over what scraps that was available, giving as good as he got and avoiding a painful death at the teeth of those that would remove some of the computation while making more food to go around at the same time. He had been big and strong enough to walk (IE: A toddler) when the vorcha hunters swept through their corner of Omega to thin out their numbers; Duuka himself bolted from his attackers rather then trying to put up a fight, surviving his siblings and mother who had either believed that they could charge the solders with weapons or were simply less lucky when it came to running away. Duuka would have no doubt died on his own if it wasn't for a quarian girl on pilgrimage that Duuka would call 'Si', due to being unable to pronounce the rest of her name when he was younger and turning it into a pet name for her once he could. Si had been rather down on her luck as far as her pilgrimage had been going, but seeing the young vorcha on his own having just escaped what was quite clearly a hunting party caused her to take pity on the small child and take him in to try and look after him. While life was still hard for the both of them, for Duuka his time with Si was broader line heaven; He was under the care of someone who actually cared about his well being and he didn't have to fight with his siblings for scraps of food. Si even taught him how to read! During the night cycles, Si would tell him tales of her homeship and about what it meant to be a quarian. As the years passed and Duuka grew big and strong enough to look after himself, he talked to his adoptive mother about going out on his own to find a job to help her continue her pilgrimage after taking so many years off of it to look after him; A pilgrimage of his own as he called it. As a gift to aid him on his pilgrimage, Si managed to give Duuka a Terminator I assault rifle; It was somewhat old and used, but the Batarian made assault rifle was still an impressive gift that Si refused to tell Duuka how she managed to get. With a promise to remain in touch, Duuka went out into the galaxy with a wanted ad for a new bounty hunting group that was a forming in mind. He was going to do his best to make Si proud... Unfortunately this required him to get off station but this wasn't as difficult as it might have been for some; With Si's help, he found a ship that was heading for Ilium and slipped on-board via the cargo bay when no one was looking. The food rations that he took with him for the trip didn't last the whole way despite his attempts to ration it out, but having grown up on Omega he was used to going periods of time without a lot of food. Arriving at Ilium was an...interesting experience. Open sky and natural sunlight were new and somewhat painful things to encounter for the first time; The first time his eyes encountered daylight it felt as if they would burn out of their sockets. Still, he was a vorcha who had been adopted by a quarian and thus could adept and endure anything. Now all he had to do was find the meeting sight at the right time... Equipment: Terminator I Assault Rifle. Junk 'Armor' (It's not so much armor as it is random junk clothing that covers his modesty and allows him to move freely). Powers: -Concussive Shot -Cryo Ammo -Disruptor Ammo -Incendiary Ammo Font Colour: Orange.</s> <|message|>Kasyra'Tala Vas Ryushei Nar Sherana "You sure did." kasyra replied glibly to the krogans statement. It was ironic, she thought, that he would say that, given that she did not really expect to survive her long term plans. "I might help fix up this wreck when we have a few parts to do it with, but don't expect me to volunteer for chief mechanic or engineer duty. Just because I'm a Quarian doesn't mean I like being neck deep in ship guts, or that I'm a technical miracle worker." Kasyra certainly found that particular species stereotype frustrating. While basic engineering was taught to all Quarians, it was just that - basic engineering. Many of them, especially slightly older Quarians such as herself, had entirely different specialisations. She could maintain the ship to an extent, but that was it. She was about to comment on the matter of food after an Asari mentioned how fish would not go well for her, when the human she had earlier pegged as the self declared head cook began speaking. Though he didn't explicitly state it, the way he spoke was all the statement needed. This man was definitely going to be the head cook. Kasyra did not particularly like that idea. Sure he was welcome to feed everyone else, but no way was she going to eat anything made by someone she did not know, much less a Levo cook. It wasn't that she worried that he would intentionally poison her, so much as she had rarely met an alien that would properly account for Quarian needs. That, and she had no faith in the ability of a Levo to properly manage Dextro flavors. How could he if he could not taste it himself without puking his guts out for a month? And that was a best case scenario. "You needn't worry about me mister master chef man." She began glibly, her tone making it clear that she didn't think much of his sudden desire to take over all aspects of the kitchen. "I'll make my own food. I'll also be buying a purifier out of my own pocket so this kitchen doesn't kill me" Had any of the Turians been around, she would've offered to cook for them too. As long as they put funds towards the ingredients of course. She wasn't running a charity. With that, she turned and walked out of the kitchen. She didn't feel like arguing with the cook right now, he would inevitably protest and claim he was capable of feeding a Quarian. She simply didn't believe and preferred not to offend the man so early in their association. She headed to the quarters to find a spot to sleep. She didn't have any gear or other belongings beyond what she carried, so she would have to resort to leaving a note of some form marking out which bunk was hers. It did make her an easy roommate though. No mess to work around. Once she picked out a spot, she would busy herself checking her gear and resting until they reached Omega.</s> <|message|>Alexandria "Alex" Wincourt The human ate quickly once her food was ready. She watched the room quietly then nodded to the chef when he assured her that he wouldn't use her rations. Satisfied, she finished her piping hot food within a few more bites then threw away the empty packaging. "Thanks." She headed back to the med bay and remained there to read up on more advanced medical practices. Once the ship was docked in Omega, the young woman dressed in her armor and set her M-7 Lancer on the mag plate on her back. She checked the seals on her arms, legs, and boots then settled her helmet over her head. When the visor came alive, she looked over her levels and static buildup. Alex walked out of the med bay and headed for the hangar. She nearly conked her head on a doorway, and grumbled to herself when she had to lean down a little further. She idly removed her gauntlet and ran a hand over a side of the ship, which caused a rather large static charge to jump off of her. Satisfied with her pre-space ritual, she replaced the gauntlet and leaned against another walk while she awaited their leader for this little school trip.</s>

<|message|>Duuka Duuka actually took a moment to consider that Krogan's words. As much as he would have liked to have claimed otherwise, he did have a point; A ship like this wouldn't have even drawn the attention of who steal shuttles and ships for spare parts beyond being pointed and laughed at. He stayed silent as various people talked, partly because his mother always taught him that listening was an important skill and it was horribly rude to interrupt a conversation in progress if there wasn't an opening, partly because he had noticed the looks that he had received from several members of the crew; He suspected that it was because he had a basic understanding of grammar and punctuation that allowed him to minimize the inherited hiss that seemed to be present in all Vorcha. It wasn't that surprising through was it? Bloody bosh'tets. As the matters of food came up and one of the human's decided to take over the kitchen and Kasyra had made her announcement before leaving, Duuka decided to get his own word in. "I'm good with whatever is put in front of me. I only ask that you leave the dextro food to either myself, the turians or Kasyra to prepare." He couldn't help but feel that there would be people looking at him strangely because of what he just said, causing him to become somewhat defensive as he explained "Levo races couldn't cook dextro food properly if their lives depended on it. Of sure, they can cook it so that it doesn't kill the eater, but it tends to taste horrible because they can't get the flavors right. Not their fault really, taste testing tends to result in pain and death." Of course, any further discussion was cut off by the announcement that they had arrived in Omega. Clicking his tongue a little in annoyance at the fact that they had arrived so soon but accepting that this was the reality of the situation, Duuka turned his attention towards those crew members that were still in the kitchen; He was as ready as he was going to be already so there wasn't much need to waste time getting dressed or anything. "So... what sort of skills do we have?" He asked somewhat curiously. What skills they had on hand would go a long way to reveling what sort of jobs they should be aiming for. "...Is that a question to ask when we're all gathered together before going into Omega?"</s>

<|description|>Fiona Age: 22 Alignment: Neutral Good Race: Human Class: Fighter Appearance/Clothing: Reference 1, Reference 2. Fairly average height, with a lean and toned build. Fiery, wild red hair and light brown eyes, skin tone a fair, slightly pale coloration. Skills: Close combat fighting, speed and agility, moderate strength, excellent horseback riding skills. Proficient both armed and unarmed, moderate endurance for taking hits. Good at cooking with relatively little to work with, and while likely irrelevant, good at farming. Natural Abilities: None - Human Magic/Spells: None Armor: Roughly as seen in the image, some pieces of scavenged light plate, most effectively protecting her right arm. Weapons: Use reference 2 for example. A fairly standard curved longsword, lightweight but sturdy. She has a dagger sheathed on her left thigh for emergencies. Her new primary weapon is a heavy longsword acquired from the anti-paladin. It requires both her hands to wield effectively, but is capable of much heavier strikes than her original sword. Possessions: On her person, she has her clothes, weapons, and armor. Her horse is outfitted with saddlebags that carry a few extra clothes, her bedroll, a blanket, personal grooming items, her water skin, a whetstone, some bandages and a small sewing kit, a light coin pouch, a line of rope, and some wrapped dried meats and bread. She has acquired: * 3 Vials of Purify Water and 3 Vials of Purify Food (Single drop cleans enough for 1 person. Each vial can clean enough for the whole party.) * 1 Potion of Cure Light Wounds, a vial kept on her person (small pouch on her belt). * An anti-paladin's sword, with a black blade. Does not dull or rust. No sheathe for it, so she will keep it strapped to her saddle when it isn't in her hands. Personality: Fiona's bold and brash, often unafraid of things she probably should be, and in general a very confident and self-assured individual. Like any good adventurer she is both curious and brave, but also deeply selfless, not preferring to use the word 'mercenary' to describe herself, as this implies the coin is the end goal she works for. Mostly she just enjoys her life for what it is: a chance to explore, meet new people and see new things, and help wherever she can, with what skill she has. Though typically a loner, she doesn't turn down help when offered, and tries to work together with others as best she can. She's an inexperienced, terrible liar, preferring both her combat and her conversation upfront and uncomplicated. History: Fiona's story is a relatively simple one, starting with a family not important enough to even have a lasting name. She's simply Fiona, of the village of Drayden, a little farming community quite a ways from many large population centers. Fiona was an only child, and thus assisted a great deal around the farm, becoming strong and physically active as a result. Wandering adventurers inspired her even as a teenage girl, and her mind would not be swayed from eventually leaving the family farm to see the world. When they were eventually able to hire some help, she used what coin she had to purchase some basic equipment, and set out at age 19, blade in hand, hunting for contracts. Naturally, without the best of training or a good starting foundation of equipment and knowledge, Fiona struggled in her first few years, but learned from her mistakes, and has developed into a competent and even confident fighter, willing and able to take on problems the average person doesn't want to deal with.</s> <|message|>Vaeri Dryearurdrenn Vaeri plated the base of her axe onto the ground and took a few seconds to catch her breath. She had hoped that the holy flames would be enough to off the unholy warrior, but it being the catalyst to his defeat was acceptable. She placed her right hand over the gash in her left arm and made a silent prayer as golden light glowed from her palm. To her surprise, there was no wound to heal. When did that get fixed? Vaeri vaguely remembered her arm feeling weird when Sana began singing, that was probably when the wound was mended. She looked around saw that the only ones injured now were the two dead unholy ones. Justice prevails. Vaeri walked over to the antipaladin's corpse and spat on it before turning to the body of the hell hound. "I will extract the claws from the hound. I'll be right back." Vaeri walked back to her room, her bag sitting open on the floor. She shoved her weapons back into the magical pack and pulled out her carving knife. The cloak was retrieved from the floor and shaken a few times to remove any dust or dirt that had accumulated on it before she put it on. She decided to keep her face revealed, however. It wasn't cold, the skies were clear and everyone outside had already seen her face. The elf returned to the battlefield twirling the blade in between her fingertips. She was a skilled, practiced hunter. She'd been hunting since she was 25. Granted back in those days she was firing a toy bow at the local squirrels the sly beasties always managed to avoid the arrows no matter how well she aimed. It still counted. Something as simply as removing a few claws should be child's play. Still, Vaeri couldn't completely shake the thought that asked "What if you ruin it now?" It may have been doubt, it may have been unfamiliarity with skinning canines, but Vaeri actually did screw up her first few tries, causing first two claws to snap instead of coming out cleanly. By the four claw, she had found her stride and extracted 6 of the beast's claws before feeling satisfied. Maybe they only needed one claw, but it was better to have too much than too little.</s> <|message|>Lob-otto-me! Lob looked down at the long black blade, a magnificent weapon in the hands of any warrior. The brute scoffed and scratched some dirt over it like a cat trying to bury its droppings. He had a bone. Moving over to the hell hound, he approached with caution and put its head upon his lap as he pet it down. He started singing songs of the winds and the plains while he rocked and pet the beast. He sang for this magnificent, if infernal, dog. He would have made it his own and taught it to be a good dog, not the hellish mount of this one. HE sang for this dog, he sang for the slavers dogs he was not allowed to bury, he sang for the dogs of his gone tribe. He sang for the old grays, he sang for the young pups, he sang for every dog that ever died not in its masters arms. Tears came freely from the brute as he gave all forgotten dogs a name and a voice to let them chase the stars. When the song was done, he took up the horse sized animal as easily as Sana took the child and walked to Wylsen shop. "No, use all. All skin. All bone. All meat. It-..." Lob takes a moment to check between its legs. He good boy, he help more. Lob help you." If the silver haired man allowed, Lob would use all his skill as a hunter to skin and dress the helhound on the half orcs poncho as a 'clean space' to work with a surprising practice for the song he just sang. The spirit had been sent to the stars, now the body was needed to heal and help the others. There was more to the animal than just its blood, there was the heart, the lungs that breathe fire, the bones and skin itself to make armor that was immune to fire as well.</s> <|message|>Sana Rawn Sana sat there, resting with Ariana in her arms. She really did not want to get up and move right then, she was exhausted from the day the group had but she knew eventually she would have to scramble to her feet. She was hungry since she had not eaten since morning and her skin still burned some even with the nuns healing. She would be scarred from today but looking down at the little one in her arms she felt it was worth it. Sana had a lot of questions about what had happened while she was tending to the camp alone but now was not the time to ask. Her fathers death was still on her mind as well as the knowledge of her family being gone. She needed to push that to the back of her conscience for now though, there were more pressing matters to attend to. Turning her head slightly she perked a brow as she heard Lob singing to the Hell Hound. It was odd to her but she wouldn't fault him for it. Everyone in the group seemed to have their own way to deal with things but at least they were able to come together when it mattered. It put her at ease some with the journey ahead. Vaeri had managed to collect some of the claws, so at least sticking in town for the day had yielded the first ingredient they needed. She hoped the rest of them wouldn't be as difficult to get but with their luck she braced herself for a lot more hardship over the next days and perhaps weeks. Sana looked over to Hugh and smiled to him, he was safe and seemed uninjured from the fight with the Anti-Paladin. She had a lot to tell him and was probably going to get an ear full for throwing herself right into the middle of the fight and getting as injured as she did. Sister Agnes came back of out of the Inn and walked passed Sana, retrieving her bow for her and resting it next to her. "Thanks," Sana said in a tired voice and the nun nodded. "I have a place for her to rest and the inn keeper said he set up the same room you and your husband shared last night," Sister Agnes said with a smile. Sana looked at the woman surprised and shook her head quickly. "I… no, he isn't my… well husband," Sana said as she stumbled over her words. The sister looked at her and then over towards Hugh. "Could have fooled these old eyes," she said before walking off to see what Wylsen was up to. Seeing Lob come over to the Hell Hound she held the door open for him. Wylsen was inside the shop, behind the counter gathering up what he would need to preserve the claws until the rest of the ingredients were gathered as well as to get the blood from the beast. He looked up as the bell above his door dinged and motioned for them to come on in. "Yes, that would be good," Wylsen as he stepped out from behind the counter and laid out a thick cloth on the floor. "Once I get the blood we can take care of harvesting anything else you think may be of use," Wylsen said as he sat down on the floor near the cloth. "Can you set him down here on the sheet for me? Then we can begin."</s>

<|message|>Fiona When Fiona had first looked out on the hell hound and its rider, she had expected the fight to leave them battered and bloody, wounded and exhausted. But as she pulled her blade free from the beast, which had been felled by her strike, she found herself entirely uninjured, even her fatigue not weighing so heavily on her anymore, due to Sana's song. It was a remarkable end to a remarkable day, and Fiona was glad to be a part of it. They now had the first of the ingredients they needed, and the village would hopefully be safe for the time being. Everyone seemed to be alright, even Sana, who had taken such a powerful blow to start the fight. The anti-paladin had been beaten, and the hit landed by the warrior atop the white horse had not gone unnoticed by Fiona. Though she remembered seeing him after returning to the village, this was the first time he'd really caught her attention. It was an impressive entrance, to say the least. Wiping off her blade on a small cloth at her belt, Fiona sheathed it, and allowed Vaeri and then Lob to begin their work on the beast she'd slain. They were far more adept at that sort of thing than she was. Instead she made her way over to the body of the antipaladin, to where his sword had fallen. It was a long, heavy blade, and would probably require both hands for Fiona to use it effectively... but it looked much better than what she had. Her current blade was light and swift, but not effective enough at heavy strikes. This one looked like it could cleave through armor if she put enough weight behind it. She picked it up, held it in both her hands. Perhaps it was a wicked weapon, but only because it had been used by a wicked thing. It had a sort of dark beauty to it, she noted, with the gleaming black blade and elegant handle and crossguard. She would put it to better use. Coming to stand back in front of Tobias, she noted her appearance, specifically that of her clothes. "Ugh... I need to clean up." A fair amount of the dark blood had splashed from the hell hound when she'd killed it, spotting her clothes, gear, and skin where it showed. She sighed, setting the point of her new sword into the ground and looking back up at Tobias. "Just thought I'd let you know that it was really brave, what you did. You didn't have to stand up to that thing." A small smile came to her lips. "If you're not careful, you'll start doing heroic things on a regular basis. Couldn't have that, now could we?"</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 The form that was Gershwin quickly destroyed the earthen hand with ease with its razor claws, yet it was quickly replaced with another hand right behind Gershwin, hoping to crush the being in between. Thy's control of the earth was amazing and fast - unlike everything people have seen about giants in movies, moving all slow and sluggish. They were blindingly quick. Clasped in between two fists, the monster sprouted huge tendrils and extended its carapace, like those of a sea urchin. In the meanwhile, Dara's mind, whose body is hidden and protected deep beneath the earth, sought out the light being's mind, hoping to "grab" it and pull away the being's literal soul out of his body.</s> <|message|>Cody O'Niel Slowly, in a steady trickle, Cody could feel his energy being sapped. He wasn't truly worried, as long as he had contact with light, he'd be fine. He wasn't foolish, however, he knew that that meant one of the twins was attacking him in a vicious mental assault, and he turned his mind to that. Light began to flow over his hand, in a thickening glove, before rolling into a ball. She'd be in the ground, her brother would make sure that she was safe. So he'd just have to go to her. He struggled against her mental assault, knowing that it was only his abilities that were keeping him from being ripped apart. "Don't make me do this" He whispered, before he slammed his fist into the ground, unleashing the stored up energy of the light, the power of it, into the ground. He did it again and again, tears stinging his eyes, as the pain grew steadily worse. He shook, shuddering against each impact, tears rolling down his cheeks freely after a moment. He knew what he could do.. What he could do to put an end to this… but there were too many innocent people around… he couldn't do it… "Please… " He continued his assault, knowing he would until his dying breath. Even if it was only a few seconds away.</s> <|message|>Gershwin May Dara continued her assault, a mental force whose attack grated on the light being's mind like a fork on a plate, like the sharp claws of a predator on the flesh of its freshly caught prey. Though the light being's mind was very strong, it was only a matter of time before Dara found the crack in that armour and strike the finishing blow. She read the light being's mind, and so did Thy - two minds into one who expected the light-empowered hit to the ground. It was powerful but with anticipation, it missed entirely. Dara persisted and increased her mental force, drilling into that pathetic being's mind. However, Gershwin's mind, who no more than a few moments ago was struck with Dara's mental blast, found in her sights... Thy. Gershwin, now being more than 300 meters tall took off in flight with her powerful wings, razor-sharp limbs and uncompromising size launched towards the earth-bender. In turn, Thy returned back all of the Terra Army into the earth, vibrations of them "moving", heading back, returning to the sorcerer. To combat a giant beast, you must have a giant beast of your own. A hand shot out from Thy's left side, punching and knocking Gershwin out of the air. A shell case formed around Thy and features of its exterior was starting to form facial features. As more earth moved out, it only confirmed what the human's imagination realized: a mega soldier, standing around the same height as Gershwin, with size just as menacing, with great power just as immense. So much soil has been shifted to create the being, the ground became uneven and unstable, lowered and weakened, as its stable foundations were uprooted. In the head of the mighty being sat Thy, controlling ultimately its servant as he stepped forward to take Gershwin out and kill her once and for all. Gershwin had only just gotten back up from her insect form when another hit met her hinged jaws, her body smashing into the ground so hard, it felt like another earthquake was occurring, opening up pockets of exposed dirt and soil, drainage pipes, walls of tunnels, and electric wiring of a modern time that feels so long ago, contrasting so heavily with this chaos. From deep within the depths, from within the light brown dirt, there revealed to the surface a a spherical shell compromised entirely of hot, bright red, molten magma. Thy was too occupied, fighting the beast, leaving his sister all but exposed. Dara knew this and started attack the light being even more with a powerful mental blast, unrelenting in force. A telepathic message was sent to Cody, a little girl's voice whose tongue was unpracticed in the intricacies of English, as if she had suddenly learnt a native speaker's worth of experience of the language in a day - or in this case, a few moments. "You will die."</s> <|message|>Cody O'Niel "If my death would solve things, then I'd gladly lay down my life. I don't want to kill you… but i will if you don't stop… Please…. Don't do this" Cody said, trying once more, but knowing it was a futile effort. Neither the girl nor the boy seemed capable of understand the kindness he wanted to offer, and he had to wonder at the way even indifference seemed to be cruelty, let alone kindness, had affected their life up until now. There was no much more he could do, he could see that. Both boy and girl seemed intent on this destruction. As her mental force increased, Cody knew he had no option, even as he still searched for another option, another way. There had to be another way… but there wasn't. The girl was exposed, the boy wasn't, intent on taking Gerswhin out as he was. Cody wouldn't have a better chance. Nor did he have much time left to do what he needed to, her mental attack was almost crushing. He didn't know what would happen to him, if she won. Would he die? Could he even die, anymore? He didn't think he wished to find out. His sightless, yet all seeing eyes turned towards the girl, an emotion too deep to read upon his features. "I'm sorry" He said once more, a finality to his words that seemed to deny everything he was thinking, and feeling. He began to move, knowing it was now or never. Light whips began to shoot out, seeking the girl, even as he began to erect a cage, ready to unleash it, that would trap the girl, even should he die. It would mean a slow starvation for her, Cody knew… but it was a bargaining chip he was ready to use. He wouldn't kill outright if he didn't have to.</s> <|message|>Gershwin May Dara was shocked. How? How did the light being hold out for so long? Nothing had been able to withstand her mental blast for so long. Even if the light being's power made him recover fast enough to keep up with the strenuous damage being put to his brain, there was still the pain that's put on the mind - this element is intangible and only someone with the greatest of will and fortitude can hold out against what felt like a nuclear bomb in their mind. Meanwhile, Thy fought the monstrosity, giant against giant. Each blow sending a megaton of hurt, shock-waves that would send billowing plumes of dust across the horizon. Each giant would have pieces of themselves - rock or carapace and flesh - flying off as they got hit, but their recovery was almost instantaneous, the fight seemingly negligible. A sucker punch landed on Gershwin's face, and her world was spun around. The pain was extreme and blinding, flashes of red and green obscuring her hexagonal vision, but her sight recovered almost immediately. Her sight came to the very bright sphere of lava surrounding by bars of light. Dara. All efforts were now turned to killing her, the easier target. Thy knew this and grabbed whatever limb he could to hold her back. Gershwin sprouted more limbs to try and reach for Dara, but Terra Soldiers grew from the Terra Giant and crawled out to cut them off, like ants on a predator much greater than them. Soon Thy would spread his arms over and around him, like a vice that will absolutely not break if there was no leg room for Gershwin to move. It was now or never. Gershwin pulled even harder and ripping sounds could be heard. Gershwin flew free from Thy's vice, now nothing but a torso. As she fell forward, Thy felling backwards, she readied herself. Tendrils, spikes, thorns, the sorts, all aimed to pierce the ever-living shit out of Dara. Though her pain was not felt, everyone heard Thy's. An almost musical tone of pure misery, pain, and sadness. Crumbling and breaking, Thy's giant sunk back to the earth and the poor little Cambodian boy was there in the middle of a flat dirt field, crying his lungs out. All at once, it seemed as if the war was over. What once was Dara was killed and the molten lava sphere crushed in on her and incinerated what remained of her. Dara felt a new essence of power so strong entering him. It's as if... all his family's powers were now all in one naughty, naive, innocent little kid. Despite all that, all he could feel now was sadness.</s> <|message|>Cody O'Niel "NO!" Cody bellowed, but it was too late. He saw the girls light fading, dying as she left this earth, and Cody fell to the ground, uttering devastated. He had wanted, wanted so hard, to try and save them all, to make everything right without more killing. To change everything, and yet, he couldn't. He bowed his head, tears falling out his cloudy, sightless eyes, staining the ravaged ground, as if his tears could put everything to rights. He was a failure, and the cause of a little girl's death. Were they any better than those that had stolen them, trapped them, sought to use them? Cody wasn't able to see the difference right then. He sobbed. It seemed like forever, although maybe it was a few seconds, a few moments, before he gathered himself, and rose, his movements slow and a little sluggish. Was Caits even still alive, or had she died as well? He turned his sights towards the boy, the brightly glowing boy who seemed so alone, so… broken. They were all broken, it seemed. His movements careful, and slow, he stepped towards the boy, studying him. He would make sure that this boy didn't die, at least not yet. Cody imagined being him, alone, and powerful. He crouched by the boy, knowing it was dangerous, but not caring, not anymore. As far as Cody knew, he was effectively immortal. He'd come back from being incinerated. What would kill him? Maybe he should find out. "Please… stop this" He whispered softly, his throat raw, trying to meet the boys gaze, even if he couldn't see his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you" Did the boy even understand him? Cody was doubtful, the girl hadn't been able to, and the boy hadn't shown any ability to being able to understand him either. Without warning, he reached out and lay a hand on the boys heart, warmth radiating from his palm, although Cody seemed unaware of it. "I'm sorry"</s>

<|message|>Gershwin May Thy's powers grew immensely in a few seconds. Each of his family member's abilities meshed and combined together into new abilities, but the knowledge of their nature flew into his brain so fast it was too much to take in. So much power but at that point he had already given up. Looming over in the distance, the insect monster was still rampant in its path, destroying everything it could. The Being of Light standing in front of Thy spoke a language that the boy now understood. The guilt, the despair, the overwhelming pain that he felt, it was too much. It wasn't that he did not want to fight the being of light because he thought Thy could not win; but because it just hurt to win or lose and still be alone, without his family. Summoning his might, Thy performed his curtain call. He shot out a giant pillar that pierced the giant insect monster's body, and out from the opening shot hot blasting fumes of underground toxic earthly gasses, in a way to stay the beast. But in turn, it will most likely mean that the environment for Cambodia and everyone on it will be destroyed. In the case for the South Asian country, recovery may take virtually forever. "Get everyone out. Don't breathe." Gershwin started to lose control and her massive, unstoppable body was fainting. The atmosphere filled with air so toxic, it turned the air a putrid greenish black, and it spread so quickly no one could figure out how to escape faster. How do you outrun air? Thy closed his eyes as the air entered his respiratory system and all faculties shut down from shock and rejection. Gershwin, in her human form, fell to the ground. Cambodia would soon meet this fate.</s>

<|description|>The Meanwhile Directory The galaxy is, in a way, it's own character, and everyone is free to add things to it. This is a collection of all the "Meanwhile!" style posts, that either provide some commentary to what's happening, explain some concept within the game, foreshadow certain events or simply add a wonderful little bit of extra flavour to help set the mood. To keep things vaguely organised, the posts will be linked to in the order they've been posted, along with a note of who wrote what. Meanwhile! The Introduction of Doctor Frosty & Cold Front Meanwhile, upon Dämmerlicht... by @Valor A Hendersons Ribs Jingle by @TwelveOf8 A footnote on Swarm Sentience by @DracoLunaris Meanwhile! An Introduction To Faster-Than-Light Travel Meanwhile, in the past... by @DepressedSoviet Meanwhile! Life on Dämmerlicht! by @Valor Please rise for the national anthem of Monochromia, with notes, by @TwelveOf8 The Hendersons Ribs Safety Jingle, transcribed by @TwelveOf8 A newspaper article from Ofromia Tonight, written by Aggro Deluxe.</s> <|message|>The Meanwhile Directory "Zane Heron?" The lively beat of music came to an abrupt halt, the chatter of conversation fell silent and, while there was still the occasional sound of a glass shattering, it was met not with laughter but polite, awkward coughing. Those who could not politely cough tried their best to simulate such a sound, or used one of the many small devices on the market that played recordings of various useful sounds for social situations. Somebody, far off in the background, began trying to propose a new toast, but was quickly shushed by another guest who was rather more aware of the mood. "Well, that sly old dog, he's getting back into the party game, I mean, sure, permission to land granted. There's a clear spot on Pad 87, I'll light that one up, hold up," The Quest for Flavour was briefly put on hold. A brief snippet of the instrumental arrangement of the current national anthem of Ofromia, Ofromia, Oh, Ofromia quietly played. It was an uptempo sort of thing, played by some electronic instrument or other, that was designed to worm it's way into the ear of a listener, wrap itself around their brain and refuse to let go. A new anthem was selected every year, such that the anthem reflected modern tastes, and the Ofromia National Anthem Council made a tidy profit selling "Best Of Ofromian Anthems" compilation albums. One of the landing pads just outside of the city-dome lit up, the number 87 having been neatly painted in the centre of it. There was a small buzz of activity going on around it, which could be seen even from this great height, though rather than people bringing things to the landing area, they seemed to be taking things away from it. The hold music stopped just before the bass was to drop in Ofromia, Oh, Ofromia. "Okay, I've pinged Mister Heron's tower, let them know you're here, he'll have one of his cats meet you at eighty seve- sexy cleaner bots?" The people in the Traffic Control tower had tried, ever so hard, to resuscitate the party after it choked on the name of Zane Heron. Life had almost been breathed back into it, the wine was beginning to flow once more, and it looked like something could be salvaged. Then the radio operator said sexy cleaner robots, and the party died again. Only to be reborn a scant few seconds later, rising like a brilliant phoenix to the sounds of uproarious laughter. The in-house band, because nearly every business in Ofromia hired the services of one, began to play a jaunty, bawdy improvised tune that would, in the future, be known as the "Sexy Cleaning Robot Neo-Rumba". Once the roar of laughter had died down to something a little more manageable, the radio operator took a deep breath, gave himself a serious look via his reflection in a nearby glass, and tried to carry on like nothing had happened. "Anything else we can help you with today, Quest for Flavour?"</s> <|message|>Nanobot Controller "Toony" AI If Toony had a nose, she'd be pinching it right now. Fiddlesticks was not putting her suspicions at ease with his comments about eloping with the cleaning bot. Worse still when she heard lots of laughing over the phone when he made his comment about if anyone was interested in cleaning bots. "Well Fiddlesticks, they might be more into bigger robots." Toony said with a sideways glance "I'll letchya know how many robot enthusiasts I find at this party." she said, ending on a wink. "So, we just party? If so, you all have my comms channel and can call me if something bad happens. I'm here to get smashed. Well, as smashed as a ladybot can, anyway." Toony said with a laugh.</s> <|message|>Swarm Species 5207B The Bees/The Will/Draksal the Devourer(nobody calls them this, not even The Bees) The sound of hundreds of tiny hands hitting hundreds of faces was heard throughout the ship at fiddlesticks' question. "Anything else we can help you with today, Quest for Flavour?" "That will be all operator" "No, that will be all. Thank you for your assistance. Have a nice day." The bee hung up and promptly collapsed from the effort of working alone, she was carried off by bees in nurses outfits to be allowed to get some well deserved sleep while under medical observation. So far nothing bad had happened to the bee after the prior calls apart from exhaustion, but it was better to be safe than to be sorry. "So, we just party?" "No, we are here to make a party, you can get drunk afterwards at said party. First we shall be meeting this 'cat' of Zane Heron. Get your stuff together and meet me outside" The purple glow faded and some of the captain bees buzzed off down to join their fellows down in the bowels of the ship. There was much hustle and bustle as the landing party was assembled, eventually culminating in something between a school outing and a military expedition coming down the boarding ramp. Of note was the small team of bees carrying a large banner above the group with 'Interplanetary Space Friends Brought to you by Henderson's Ribs' written on it in a rainbow of colors and a small group of 4 captain bees were at the center of the group. The rest consisted of any specialists they thought they might need, a few gaurds and a large amount of general worker bees who where there to do grunt work. The 100 bees started by seeing if they could find the associate of Zane Heron, hovering up in the air around the ship to take in their surroundings.</s> <|message|>Vanessa Kiyvana Vanessa nodded to herself as the phone was hung up. As the crew began to shuffle towards the exit Vanessa spoke up and said. "I'll be a little while longer. I'm going to go and get changed into something more fashionable. I know that they said they'd provide clothes, but I really don't enjoy having someone else decide what I'd like to wear." With that out in the open, Vanessa walked briskly back to her room and shut the door. She knew there were at least a few minutes to spare with the ship having to land at Ofromia. Opening up the clothes chest that she kept in her room, Vanessa began to change clothes. When she was done, Vanessa wore a pair of open toed black heels with a pair of black vinyl tights. Along with this, Vanessa also wore a backless black dress with a long skirt. This skirt also possessed a slit on the left side that went up to the top of Vanessa's thigh, and showed quite a bit of her legs without revealing anything too risque. The top of the dress had a fish scale pattern to it that went up to a collar around Vanessa's neck, which held the dress in place. The sleeves of the dress were deteched, and started at just above Vanessa's elbow. They also featured a pair of gloves that repeated the same fish scale pattern. The dress was largely backless, though once again without revealing anything too risque for public. Once she was dressed, Vanessa shifted her body some, applying a light blue lipstick and adjusting her curves to better fit the dress. It was subtle, but noticeable if you looked at Vanessa's normal appearance for an extended amount of time. With everything in place, Vanessa tugged at the dress a few times to ensure that everything was stable and nodded to herself at the success of such a test. She combed her hair neatly, but left it loose. With everything taken care of, Vanessa returned to her crewmates at the landing ramp a minute or two before they departed, and posed a simple question to everyone with a gentle close lipped smile. "Well. How do I look?" Most of them were likely used to Vanessa wearing her suits, and likely didn't expect her to have such a dress. But Vanessa's "previous life" had required all manner of clothes for all manner of occasions and as such Vanessa was quite skilled at picking the right dress for the right event.</s> <|message|>The Meanwhile Directory The representative slithered his way across the bridge that connected the platform to the dome that housed the city of Ofromia. Local time pinned this moment as "somewhere in the middle of the morning, just after brunch", but this landing platform currently sat in the shadow of the giant dome and so was illuminated by bright, artificial lights. Further around the dome, other landing platforms sat in darkness, waiting for their opportunity to welcome visitors or bid farewell to friends. Aside from the dome that loomed over everything, and the shadow it cast, countryside stretched out towards the horizon - woolly, lumbering creatures grazed on yellowing grass, monitored by buzzing drones. Crops grew in other fields, with little green bushes neatly lined in endless rows. There was something wrong, however, with the representative. This shouldn't be considered a slight towards his species, although many didn't consider them particularly attractive; a flattened out, snake like species that moved low to the ground, only rearing up their front half when it came to communicating, eating, partying or fighting. A single pair of spindly, long arms folded out from their sides, tipped with a pair of unsettlingly long and bony fingers. Few people bothered to comment on their four eyes, or wide mouths filled with teeth, not because they were particularly odd, but because the most striking thing about their faces was the rows upon rows of twitching antennae. They jutted out at almost every angle, waved in the gentle breeze and twitched in response to unknown stimuli. They called themselves Prax Sitharii, but most referred to them as Twitchers. Usually behind their backs. So it wasn't the appearance of this bright orange Prax Slitharii that was wrong, but rather his choice of clothing, which was about as ill-fitting as one might imagine clothing worn by a snake like creature to be, if not more so. The heavy grey jacket, made out of some local wool-ish fabric, looked like it ought to be on the back of some high ranking military officer. Judging by the number of sleeves, it ought to be worn by somebody with at least two pairs of arms. The representative had awkwardly folded his own arms through the upper pair of sleeves, but he lower pair hung loosely and trailed behind him as he slithered forwards, picking up dust and grime and the other assorted bits of dirt that plagued the Outside. Coming to a halt before the assembled crew at the bottom of the ramp, he caught his breath, standing as upright as he could manage. With enough clean, fresh air in his lungs, he spread out his long arms in a gesture that was generally considered welcoming in many cultures for many reasons. Cultures that valued physical contact saw the open arms gesture asn invitation to initiate physical contact, some liked seeing the open hands that carried no weapons, while some saw it as a polite act of submission, exposing their tender underbellies to demonstrate that they pose no threat. "Welcome, it's, ah, I'm Maracun, Maracun..." The antennae twitched as green eyes quickly flicked around, taking in his surroundings. "Maracun Cropman, here to welcome you on behalf of the Zane Heron Estate. Do you need any assistance unloading? I can send for, ah, some people."</s> <|message|>Nanobot Controller "Toony" AI Walking with the others out of the ship, Toony wasn't too surprised to see a snake alien greet them. Shame it wasn't the more elegant snake race she had seen around the galaxy. But a snake was a snake. Toony wondered what the biggest thing it could eat was, she probably had it beat, but it would be a fun contest. Either way besides the guy looking nervous, Toony posed a question, ignoring the question he posed the group. "Yeah so... What was that attire we were supposed to be given to wear?"</s>

<|message|>The Meanwhile Directory Maracun Cropman regarded Toony with the sort of suspicion normally associated with somebody lifting up the bun on a burger, folding his arms back in and resting them on where his hips might've been had his ancestors felt the need to evolve legs. Smaller antennae flicked to and fro in a rather jolly manner, even though the rest of Maracun's face looked sceptical, perhaps even annoyed. Interpreting alien facial movements without the aid of a guidebook wasn't an easy task, even for seasoned veterans of space travel. "I'm sure this, the clothes thing, that'll be taken care of, but we best be getting inside," Maracun snuck a glance back across the bridge he'd snaked his way from, "we're on a tight schedule, got friends, uh, who want to have a word with you about this party..."</s>

<|description|>Augustus Alsroht "I worry about dying. Not because I fear death, but because I fear my brother managing anything more than a houseplant. I stay alive to save my people, not myself." Standing at 5'5", he's rather short for the standard dashing image of nobility, he would argue that this is because most of his growth went to his brains instead. While simple in design, his red robes are trimmed with gold, emblazoned with a sun, surrounded by two wyverns eating each others' tails. The symbol of house Alsroht. Age 24 Sex Male Weapon Anima Asset Speed Flaw Resistance Personality His younger brother Keisser had always been described as wearing the cape of the royal asshole. If his brother wore the cape, Augustus wore the whole rest of the outfit. A deadpan snarker by nature, he didn't doubt that parts of his brother's personality were definitely the result of Augustus's influence over the years. The most frequent target of that snark, of course, being Keisser. As the heir-apparent to the kingdom, the people had no idea about this of course. He was trained from a young age how to address the public, and he tried to maintain as regal an image as possible when not among people who were close to him. Being in proximity to his brother, however, tended to break the facade. Or anyone else who sufficiently annoyed him, for that matter. He was a man who loved his country, and was filled with as much pride as was expected of a prince. It could even be said he loved his brother, although he would likely never admit that to anyone, let alone the man himself. It could be said that while his brother had the love of the army and the people, Augustus had their respect. The two, in the end, made a good team. A shame only one of them was in present company. Alignment Lawful Neutral: While he cares a great deal about his people, it is his belief that a king must be above the concepts of good and evil, and instead must strive to do what is best for his subjects. Law, however, superseded both concepts. It brings peace, and nothing benefits a nation more than that. Biography / History Being the firstborn son of the royal family, Augustus was raised from birth with the expectation that he would be the heir to the kingdom. He had always been a smart child, and gotten the attention of the kingdom's mage advisers from a young age. His brother, born just a couple years after him, showed a much larger knack for the physical duties in life, and thus caught the attention of the kingdom's wyvern knights. The two developed a (not so) friendly rivalry, reflecting the long-present divide in their nation. Erkonne was a nation of wyvern riders, somewhat withdrawn from the rest of the world. They maintained steady trade relations with their neighbors, but mostly kept an isolationist policy, using their strong military to ward off anyone looking to take advantage of their small size and rich mines. At the upper eschelons of society there were two main forces in conflict: The military, and the mage-advisers of the king. The two battled constantly for influence over time, and indeed small civil wars had erupted under kings who were too weak to keep the factions in check. When house Alsroht came to power it put an end to the fighting: placing the military above the mages and ensuring any king who sat on the throne was also a wyvern rider. Still, to appease to mages, they added the Sun to their house sigil, representing the anima magic the kingdom's mages practiced. Augustus was poised to tip this balance once more upon his ascension to the throne. His father was in failing health, and already the advisers were putting pressure on him to declare the military subservient to them. However, before any of this could come to a boiling point he... vanished, and found himself at The Tower. Ripped away from his family and his kingdom.</s> <|message|>Keaghan Listening to Varrus speak, Keaghan examined the engravings himself. He moved his hand over the letters in the wall, the slime of moss and mildew gleaning over his fingertips. As he moved toward one of the torches he rubbed the substance off his fingers with the side of his pants. "Yes, that makes sense for the second poem to refer to a torch". He then pointed to the fourth and continued, "This one is interesting. The thing being described defies all of the senses, but I can't think of any such thing. Whatever it is, it can't be all that great if it kills laughter". Keaghan crossed his arms and lowered his chin in contemplation, trying to work out the solution but experiencing great difficulty. "What do you all make of it?"</s> <|message|>Ulrich Halechstin Ulrich Halechstin When they started moving, Ulrich scrambled towards the back of the line. He maintained quite a distance from the cold warriors who refused to give their names. Not because he found the untrustworthy but he was more or less intimidated by them. Well, he always bowed in the face of royalty and unlike the people who aren't nobles, he wasn't a knight. He didn't fit in any kingdom. Precisely why their lands from where they were from sounded familiar. He got a good look of the riddle before falling back to the back of the group. He wasn't one for riddles. He favors books, yes, but when it comes to riddles and the sorts, he just becomes lost. He took things way too literally for his own good. Well they said that it was the torches that's the answer to the riddle. Now what would they do with it? Seems he'll be thinking a lot more before he got it so he just didn't attract any attention to himself. Being small really helped with that.</s> <|message|>Juniper Drev Juniper groaned when she saw the writings on the wall. She was not the one for intellectual activity, although there was still hope that her mother's cleverness passed down to her. There were three poems, and she focused on the last one. "Something that can't be heard or smelt... I think of light, but it's something you can see or feel. Is there anything unlike it?" She paced back and forth around the dungeon they were in, muttering. "Cannot be seen, cannot be heard, cannot be heard, cannot be smelt... What the heck is it?" It seems that all others focused on the riddles as well - some speaking their thoughts out loud, like the two men whose names she didn't know, others remaining silent, like Sigrdrifa and Ulrich. Juniper stopped near the brown-haired merc and rubbed the back of her neck. "Any ideas on what this could be?"</s> <|message|>Augustus Alsroht Ah yes, there was certainly magic in the air, although the details of this place didn't ring a bell. Augustus half listened to the others around him as he thought, studying the words. It wasn't their meanings he was focusing on, but rather their purpose. How did solving them connect to getting out of this place? Some of the answers were relatively easy, as for others... "Torch. Torches." He called quietly, waiting for some sort of response. He was sure at the very least that was the answer to the second riddle. As it became abundantly clear that nothing was going to happen, he sat on the cold stone floor, cupping his chin in his hand as he pondered. The answers alone didn't matter? Assuming it wasn't all a game designed to give them false hope, then what did it mean? Four riddles... With a snap of his fingers he stood up, raising his voice: "I think they're some set of instructions! See that second one there? I'm quite sure the answer has to be a torch, or torches, but simply having the answer didn't do much. There has to be a purpose to have four of them, laid out as such. I think the answers go together. Maybe it's something we have to do or at least some sort of phrase we have to arrange." Cupping his chin in his hand once more, Augustus began pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. "As for what that phrase or set of instructions is..."</s> <|message|>Sigrdrífa Sigrdrífa Rylo Sigrdrífa shrugged. Stereotypical as it was, she wasn't much good for riddles. Give her a good tactical problem or some weights and she was good, but this sort of abstract reasoning was a little beyond her. Frankly she probably wouldn't have even figured out that torches were a part of it. Sigrdrífa peered at the riddles once more trying to make any sense of it. There was no way to retrace their steps, it was very clear they had no idea how they got here and what good retracing their steps in this room would be. "The only thing I can think of that ends life but can't be sensed would be some sort of magic or poison." Sigrdrífa offered before falling silent. It seemed the others could probably figure it out through brainstorming it so she wasn't terribly worried.</s> <|message|>Varrus Volkanon Varrus Volkanon Varrus sighed heavily as he lifted a hand to bridge of his nose, pinching it between his index finger and thumb. It was one thing to not be able to solve a riddle like this, but it was another when lives were possibly at stake- not excluding his own. It was then that his vision fell to the engraving as his hand returned to the pommel at his side. "Well, we know it has something to do with the torches and where we began. We should make our way back and examine the area," He stated, turning back to face the way they came as he began to trek past those about him. He continued on in silence as his vision focused forward... In his mind however, his thoughts would begin to pour over the information given to him. The speculation of the others reinforce what he originally thought about the torches, but the remainder of the riddle still evade him. Or should he say, partial riddle. The third partition merely said embrace, and the forth spoke of something all consuming. His first venture was death, but death has no mass... It cannot fill a hole. A hole? At this, Varrus paused a moment, looking over his shoulder back to the inscription for a moment as he paused in his steps. Something unlike the light that can fill a hole. At this notion, Varrus looked between those in the group around him, "Something unlike the Light that puts an end to laughter and fills holes. At first I was thinking of something with mass, but what if I'm wrong?" His gaze began to flicker to the unlit areas of the room as his brain began to formulate a plan, "I think the answer is closer than we think. Light is all encompassing, yes, but it can be seen and usually bolsters the mood of people within it. However, it's opposite can bring fear and terror to some, while swallowing all within it's reach. Not to mention the cliche wording of the third and forth phrase if I'm right, but..." Varrus paused a moment as he turned back towards the original torches, though making no movement, "What if the answer is darkness?"</s> <|message|>Juniper Drev "Darkness?" The idea was bizarre - after all, there was no source of light in the dry room other than torches. As they knew, torches were related to their riddle. Torches, darkness, torches, darkness... She walked around the room, pondering. Everything still itched after her nap on the ground, but she needed to focus now, of all times. Then something clicked. Juniper turned around abruptly and looked at the torches in Rylo's hands. No. No. This could not be their answer. "There's only one thing that we'd get from combining torches and darkness. And hell no, I'm not putting them out."</s> <|message|>Sigrdrífa Sigrdrífa Rylo Sigrdrífa tilted her head curiously. It made sense in that twisted sort of sense that riddles did. Juniper seemed violently opposed to the next logical conclusion but Sigrdrífa didn't think the concern was valid. "Now now, no need to overreact. I believe we have at least a mage with us no? Most mages have the ability to create fire from what little I know of magic. Therefor does it not stand to reason that we should put out the torches? If the answers to the riddles form a command than it would form something along the lines of, 'torches something embrace darkness'. If nothing happens we have lost nothing, if it is the answer than we have advanced." Having outlined her arguement in a logical manner Sigrdrífa fell silent. Personally the darkness was not such a thing to fear in her opinion altogether but that was a matter of personal preference. Sigrdrífa held her torch angled towards the wall suggestively, as though she were to grind it out against the wall, and awaited a response to her suggestion.</s>

<|message|>Augustus Alsroht "Or something does happen, and we all die horrible deaths." Augustus added dryly, it seemed pretty clear to him at this point what they were meant to do. He didn't suppose the answer was just an elaborate way to kill themselves, it didn't make much sense in the end. Furthermore, while it seemed like an absolute waste of magical ability to just make some light with it, Sigrdrífa was right in that it was possible. Simple even. "Still, best case scenario at this point is we're trapped here a few days until we run out of water and die anyway. I, for one, would rather take a chance at not having that happen." He walked over to the axe wielding woman and placed a hand on her shoulder. He wasn't particularly used to trying to sound reassuring, but a ruler needed at least some kind of charisma if he expected to inspire his people. It was something that had been drilled into Augustus since birth. He tried to slip into that role briefly, it wouldn't do for them to be divided on important decisions. "You're... Juniper, right? What the lady knight speaks is true, if we need light again once the torches are out, I will see to it myself that we have some. I believe, however, that putting them out is our best option for moving forward." He nodded to the cold warrior as he finished speaking, as if to urge him on. He didn't know if this Juniper woman was afraid of the dark, or simply in disagreement, but he hoped his words got through to her. Sure, he wasn't exactly a figure that gave off an aura of protection, like Sigrdrífa or the cold warrior, a strong imposing man. However, this Juniper woman looked strong enough to hold her own in a fight anyway. She certainly didn't look like she needed "protecting" by any measure. In fact, if it came to a fight, it was likely Augustus who would need her in that sort of role.</s>

<|description|>Himeko Kagekoro "The Tengu are looking for a stolen object. Would you have knowledge on this subject?" "My name? How rude. It is only polite to state your name first." "What matter is my age?" Age: 125 Race: Tengu Appearance: Himeko looks to be about her late teens to early twenties though in reality she's lived over a century. She has long brown hair typically tied back into twintails. She wears travel clothes of her tribe's color and she stands at a little over six feet. Other than her wings, that is a good sign that she isn't exactly human. Personality: Himeko is a noble in Tengu society. Though she tries not to be, she can be rather pretentious at times. Her normal mode is "guarded" though one can gain her trust rather quickly. She has a rather negative opinion on humans in general, but will work with them in times of need. While she thinks of humans this way, she likely will come to like them quickly so long as they are competent at what they do. "A mere human cannot hope to match a Tengu, that is just simple. Any longer talk on it is mere sophistry." Abilities: Tengu in general have the ability to manipulate wind. Though it appears to be the typical type of magic, it really has a source from the divinity that resides on Tengu Mountain. Their wings also allow them to fly at high speeds. They are rather large and can wrap around them as a coat if need-be, but otherwise, they can use the same divine power that allows them to manipulate the wind to hide their wings. As a species, they also have strength far outweighing the average human and wielding their special Tengu Forged Katana that assist them in their wind manipulating abilities. History: Himeko was born among her fellow Tengu at the supposed height of their civilization. She herself was born among one of the upper rungs of the race and as thus, she was taught many things such as swordsmanship, etiquette and channeling divinity. Soon enough, she found herself among one of the many Wing Guards of the mountain. She never left the mountain, but she was put in charge of guarding the Vault of Relics. It's name was exactly as it sounds and she liked to take her time examining the many pieces in the Vault. She both guarded and studied them. Soon enough, she found herself tasked with guarding a human to study in the vault. She scoffed at the order, but was quickly ordered to follow orders or else she'd be stripped of her rank. Begrudgingly, she accepted the task. She was quickly introduced to the human. She was not impressed. They were simply a scholarly type and she was simply surprised that he was able to make it to the top by himself, let alone make it past the constant tempests that masked the mountain. He asked her if she'd like to talk to him about any of the objects and simply told him their name and a very short idea of what they did. She was constantly confused as to why the Elders and the Lord of the Mountain allowed a human up here, but followed orders as loosely as she could. It took a few weeks, but the man was just about done with his research. In the last couple of days however, the tempest surrounding the mountain disappeared and the mountain was attacked by a small horde of what could only be described as gigantic bats. Himeko was with the scholar at the time, and quickly flew him to a safe space in the mountain fortress. She quickly made her way to the front and helped eliminate the attackers, however she left the Vault undefended. In her absence, someone or something snuck into the Vault and stole one of the Tengu's most sacred treasures, The Leaf of the Four Winds. A grand treasure that had the power to amplify the power of any wind based divinity or magic. Many among the Elder Council accused the scholar of stealing the item, or letting the tempest die out. Himeko, however, stood up for the scholar, claiming he was not at fault for this theft. As she was known for her disdain for the human race for their foolishness, her words for a human were held in high regard. On the other hand, her leaving the Vault undefended was seen as the main issue at hand. For her failure at losing the Leaf, she was tasked with retrieving it or never returning. After preparing for a few days and gathering her supplies, she left the mountain and sadly only found solace in human towns. Luckily, she had one clue... An odd sigil... Other: -Himeko is actually a master at disguising her disgust at humans. Luckily for her. She deals with humans in villages with a hidden disgust but something better than a frown, but less than a smile.</s> <|message|>Himeko Kagekoro Himeko sighed as this girl finally came up to them. She was one of the two youngest girl. The only dark haired one amongst the three. She just stared at the girl for couple of seconds before looking back to Charlotte and then looking back. She was too tired and hungry to give her "gentle" act. "Can... Can I help you?" Her face had a look of confusion as if she hadn't been talked to for a couple of days. "What do you mean, 'not something we see everyday' exactly. I mean, yes... I have outlandish clothes." The girl looked as if she knew everything of everything and was ready to play a joke or something. It didn't feel right to Himeko. Katherine mostly ignored her sister walking over, rather, was sort of happy she could continue her half-joking and half-serious teasing of Marise. "Mother would care not, dear sister..." She held her sister's hand to her cheek again, rubbing it somewhat aggressively this time. "We have better things to worry about, sister dear. Rather than silly things like, let us worry about the names of all of our children, dear! Perhaps we should figure out how many we want first." Livia had good reactions of the blunt and cool variety... Marise might have the best though! Her beauty didn't hurt either. Still, with all her teasing... She would rather enjoy being with Marise like she had been implying.</s> <|message|>Charlotte LaChance "I-Improper!" Marise's face was a shade of bright red now, unable to meet Katherine's gaze directly. "K-kathrine cease such words that is...that is..." She fumbled over her words at the thought of what Katherine was suggesting. Ah, Livia why did you leave her alone with Katherine? Marise frowned, doing her best to handle her younger sister. "F-first of all, we're both girls so that wouldn't even be possible! Secondly...y-you're causing quite a bit of a scene and I would appreciate it if you stopped." Despite her words though, Marise hadn't attempted to pull her hand away from Katherine yet. She wasn't entirely sure how else to respond here. She could never tell when Katherine was being serious, unlike with Livia. Livia was always serious...well, most of the time. She was at least honest and blunt...unlike Katherine. Livia, for the most part inwardly giggled at Marise's predicament. It was much funnier to watch than intervene anyways. Besides, she was much more interesting in...whatever this girl was in front of her. "No need to be so suspicious." Livia replied, her playful smirk not fading. "Can't I have a friendly conversation with a traveler?" She leaned on the table, resting her arm on it. "Or are your people just naturally rude? Such a shame, if so, but I suppose non-humans aren't known for their hospitality." She casually dropped that without seeming a care, just to see her reaction. She didn't know for sure, of course, but she had an inkling this girl was more than what she seemed to be. "Or am I wrong, hm?"</s> <|message|>Himeko Kagekoro Himeko just sighed. Her disguise was perfect aside her clothes. So unless this girl was some sort of old human Sage or someone that could sense the power of the Divine... Then she was likely good. "No. I'm quite human." The Tengu lied quite bluntly. "I'm just a bit tired from traveling so far with no rest. And no food nor drink." She gave Charlotte a look of, "Did you order the food yet?" or perhaps it was "Why is she talking to me?" "My clothes are of a land distant to here." She said, looking back to Livia. "That aside, it is only proper to introduce yourself since you started this conversation." Himeko added, stating her out foreign idea of politeness. She doubted the girl would listen to her anyway. Katherine had stopped paying attention to Livia. Her whole attention was now focused on the hot mess that Marise. She couldn't help but laugh at the girl at this point. She took what was said at her seriously... Well, too seriously. After all, Katherine herself was only about half serious. "This is why I love you, Dear Sister Marise. You take what I say seriously, even when I'm not completely so. That said, I believe you're the one making the bigger scene. And with such fervent refusal I must only think that... Perhaps... You really do want to be 'together' with your little sister? Well, non-blood little sister? The only taboo in it is the fact we're both girls but... This city doesn't quite look down on that you know." Katherine teased again. She half-hoped this would calm her a bit, but at the same time she just had to go and add that last bit.</s> <|message|>Charlotte LaChance "Ah...perhaps I am wrong." Livia replied with a playful inflection. Whether she actually believed Himeko or not was difficult to tell. She didn't think she was wrong - spirits don't lie. They may confuse and misunderstand things, but they never lie. "Decided yet-Oh, miss Fiore...meeting the new travelers?" It was Gerald again, coming to see if they had finally decided what they would be eating. She said nothing to Gerald of course, merely nodding in reply as she continued to observe the two other girls and letting them order, Gerald taking a few notes before Charlotte finished giving it. "Excellent choice, I shall have it out momentarily." The waiter left, heading to take a few more orders from more guests before heading back into the kitchen. Hopefully it would be done soon. For now though, Himeko and Charlotte were left alone with Livia. "Livia Fiore," She introduced herself after Gerald left. "I suppose if you are human, then you have nothing to worry about." Livia leaned back in her seat, not expanding any more on that statement as she waited for her own food to arrive as she engaged in more conversation. "So, where exactly are you two from, then?" She asked, glancing over to Charlotte, not seeming intent on leaving just yet. "...north." Charlotte replied hesitantly. Might as well talk a bit, see if she could figure out what exactly this girl wanted. "Far to the north, for myself." That was all she felt like giving her, though. --- "Aha, K-katherine..." Marise finally pulled her hand away from Katherine, shaking her head with a small pout, puffing out her cheeks a bit. "You are a fiendish little thing, you know?" She teased back, her face still a shade of red. "Tsk, making me think such things." Still unable to entirely meet Katherine's gaze, she leaned back in her chair, glancing to the side for a few seconds before replying further. "You should only say such things towards someone you are serious about, sister."</s> <|message|>Himeko Kagekoro Katherine sighed and looked aside lightly, "Oh dear sister, if only you knew..." She muttered to herself, finally peeking over to Livia and those other girls. She didn't even feel like messing with the girl now. She just looked to Marise. "Maybe I just want you to look at me, Marise." She said, not calling her dear sister as was her usual habit. She added a giggle onto that before staring at her sister, waiting for her reply. Where was she from? Well, she couldn't just say, "The Tengu Mountain. It's actually fairly close, within a week's travel by foot." Instead, she chose to say, "From the North-West somewhere. I just followed the paths and we ended up traveling together." She said. Charlotte ordered finally at least, not that she could blame her. In fact, she was rather missing the time she spent with her if only because this Livia girl was nosy. "So, Livia, do you just like to leave the people you came with waiting or...?"</s> <|message|>Charlotte LaChance "If I want to watch my sisters be nauseating, I can do that at home." Livia replied in a rather curt, dismissive manner. "Besides, talking with an...exotic woman such as yourself is much more interesting." She gave Himeko and Charlotte both a playful smirk. A somewhat small mercy, but she was at least interested enough in these two to let Katherine and Marise have their moment. "Now, I have introduced myself so I do think it's about time you told me your names, hm? Or am I simply going to have to refer to you as 'dishonest' and 'grumpy face'?" "...My face is not that grumpy looking." Charlotte replied with a frown. Sure, she may have gotten lost in thought quite a bit but she didn't think it was that bad. "Well, it certainly is right now." Livia replied with a playful smirk. "If it is, it's because of people like you." This earned a small chuckle from Livia as she rest Livia rest her chin on her hands as she propped her elbows up on the table as she waited for a reply from Himeko. --- "Katherine," Marise replied with a somewhat troubled look. "You and Livia are my dear sisters. I would never let anything come between the three of us, even if Livia is a cynical fool that greatly dislikes people, and you are worse than a drunken philanderer." She sighed, replying back to Katherine. She was likely taking this far too seriously, but it was a little hard not too when she couldn't tell when Katherine was ever being serious about something. Always teasing and saying such things. "So for now, I will only look at and make sure my adorable little sisters are doing well." "Having fun are we?" Before Katherine could reply in full, Gerald finally bought them their food, placing both trays in front of them. "I'll bring Livia's to hers with her...new guests, hm? Enjoy, you two." The waiter walked back to the kitchens. "Well, enough of that, hmm, Katherine? The food is here and I'd rather us not make much more of a scene. Why, if Livia's eyes rolled any further back, they might think she's possessed or something."</s>

<|message|>Himeko Kagekoro Dishonest? Well, she supposed she was, but she didn't care much. "Yes, yes. I'm being dishonest." Himeko complained. This girl was being annoying about this wasn't this? "Kagekoro. You've no need to know my given name." The Tengu said, setting her elbow on the table and her hand up, resting her chin on it. She might as well humor this human girl for a couple of minutes so she'll hopefully go away. "So, why are you interested in an 'exotic woman' exactly?" She asked, mostly uninterested. Katherine looked the slightest bit disheartened but pulled through quite quickly. No need to show a face like that now, was there? She merely nodded and took to the stew she always ordered. There was just something about it that made her feel nice. "She probably is. She can be a demon at times after all." Katherine joked. The girl was quite mean at times. "And I'm no drunk, my dear sister." Though she didn't quite deny the other part of her statement.</s>

<|description|>Agmundr Age: 23 Race: Human revenant Appearance: Agmundr is a large-sized and very bulked-up man with a long red mane of hair. For being a revenant, he's in pretty good shape: A medic won't require more than one quick and educated look to discover clear signs of death, but there's nothing an average person would instinctively find disgusting about him. There's a glow apparently coming from inside his eyes, but it can only be seen when it's dark. Common skills: Agmundr died as a poor man, at a young age and a long time ago. He can't read or write since these arts were restricted to the more wealthy people even in his days. He's fairly adept in pickpocketing and stealing (yet no lockpicking, if he had to get through a door he waited for the right moment and then brute-forced it). Fighting skills: The military had a close look at him and decided that for someone with no precursory experience with weapons, yet a very respectable amount of strength and corresponding body weight, something like a sword would do no good. He recieved training in using a spiked mace - a cheaper and less delicate weapon - in combination with a round shield and simple armor not prone to hinder movement in an unexpected way. Unfortunately, his physique doesn't allow for a horse carrying more than just himself without being considerably overburdened by the weight. Magical skills: In pure theory there is a lot of magic in him, but comparable to the way an ordinary human being can't ask the own brain to unroll any of those automatic algorithms it uses for thinking, Agmundr is not capable of willingly invoking any of his inherent magic in order to achieve any additional effect. One of the 'passive' effects of his inherent magic is a slow but steady self-regeneration that is a bit faster than the healing capability of a living body and that also prevents the onset of decay. On the other hand his body is just plain dead in the biological sense, so he can't expect conventional healing magic to be much of an alleviation... Languages: He has a bit of a trouble in adapting to the recent Imperial language, but his familiarity with the old ways might help him just as well when it comes to learn a new language that actually is a derivative of what he knows. Personality: He was shady in his days. One should definitely not leave one's money unattended if he's nearby and doesn't know you. Stealing definitely did help him, but that was because he didn't have much support from his parents that already died when he was a small child. The question is if he will lose this habit if he's embedded into a more stable social structure for a prolonged time or not. Aside from that he does have a slight lack of self-confidence. What he definitely does appreciate are good friends - he didn't have many of them in his days either. Bio: His (so to speak) first life ended several hundred years ago at an age of 21. At no point in his former existence he was close to being a distinguished person, so probably the only thing you can find are entries of birth and death in the chronicles - given they have survived that long. There is a number of persons who have doubts concerning his claims about who he is. The grave he had been buried in had been fitted with a very cheap gravestone: There was nothing intelligible left of it when he came back to 'life' and left the site, so there's hardly anything left to clearly identify him. Equipment: Morning star (one-handed), robust round shield, heavy scale armour covering his body, a spangenhelm. For satisfying the needs not associated with combat he has got a backpack filled with brawn, a few bandages (mechanical fixation does help even him), a set of simple civilian clothing, small knife. Why did he join ?: A whole new continent is an opportunity only few people can experience in their lives. It would be a waste to miss that. Perhaps there will be something valuable to discover or a nice strip of land to settle down ? Since the military currently is the only organization having made landfall it's quite obvious that there will be trouble, but it's worth it. And he hasn't got much to loose on the old one anyway.</s> <|message|>Iolaire, daughter of Eidheann "Iolaire. My name is Iolaire" she almost said, but decided to hold her tounge. He had given her medicine after all. She swallowed it quickly and almost retched on the spot, it tasted so bad. Then she followed the rest of the crew to the keep. It struck her then that she didn't know who to report to other than the commander. Frankly, she was at a complete loss at what she was supposed to do here apart from the general mission. The big man with the funny accent, Agmundr, seemed to know what he was about, though. She decided to stick with him until she got a clearer picture of what was going on. She approached him while he was speaking with a smith. "Hey" she said, "I was thinking about getting something to eat. Care to join me?"</s> <|message|>Agmundr The revenant laughed again. "I'm not that good at lifting entire walls. However quite a few people claim that I am a wall myself. And sorry for expressing my self so vaguely: I meant that I'm here to help whoever needs me." Then he was interrupted and turned his head. "Oh, hello... Iolaire ?" He really hoped that his memory was correct. "Ah well... I'd like to. Zane ? You know this place better than me. Is there a place where we can get something edible between our teeth ? And ideally a lot of it." In fact, Agmundr was gambling on him simply joining them, but perhaps he was too busy...</s> <|message|>Jacque Atkinson Despite his initial desire to take in the splendor that was the new continent, the hunter known as Jacque had found himself in bit of a predicament: While he'd managed to take the voyage to handle the ride to the new continent with little problem save for the slight headache that came only when one unaccustomed to constant exposure to sea air breathed to much of it for too long, his body had started to adapt to the subtle swaying motions of the ship as it had sailed. The result of this was that he was almost forced to take a knee nearly three steps into solid earth to properly, no pun intended, ground himself, lest he fall flat on his ass. After rooting himself in place in a spot that he hoped wouldn't put him in the path of someone that happened to be bust, Jacque took the time he was spending getting used to stationary footing again to also survey the area and people around him. Those that had arrived before the latest batch of colonizers looked to be a combination of fatigued, irritable, and hungry, completely understandable considering what the Lord had said regarding food. Jacque couldn't help but smile just a tad, after all, a lack of food meant that not only would he potentially be able to hunt to his heart's content, but in doing so he'd be earning his place among the others that would call Fort Narselis home. There were many things to be done before that however: First and foremost he had to properly introduce himself to some of the others if he was to live in close proximity to them, following that he would have to find a place to unload his supplies, then after that he would have to ask around to see if there was work to be done within the fort, as well as ask Lord Justed permission to join a scouting party to see if he could find a game trail or two that hadn't been cleared of fauna by all of the recent activity. The huntsman started to feel a touch overwhelmed as he realized the work that would lie ahead of him before he could actually begin to enjoy himself. His concerns were pushed to the wayside however as he felt a familiar tugging sensation along the back of his cloak. Shortly after the sensation began, a narrow, scaly head peeked over his shoulder, and from it's mouth came a forked tongue. "We'll have to put in a bit of work for me to convince people that you're here for pest control instead of being a potential stew ingredient too, won't we Alu?" Jacque said with a hint of mirth. The monitor lizard gave Jacque a quick glance- more so out of recognition of the sound the huntsman had made than out of understanding, before it continued to look around with mounting curiosity. Once he was finally certain that his legs wouldn't betray him, Jacque started moving towards a small cluster of people that he'd seen get off the boat before him. He put on a welcoming, if not somewhat reserved smile as he caught the tail end of the conversation, specifically the bit where the large man mentioned food, "If what Lord Justed said really is as bad as he made it seem, then you might have your work cut out for you looking for a meal.". Jacque came to a stop from the group about a yard and a half away and gave a soft nod, "Sorry to intrude in your conversation like that, didn't really know how else to go about introducing myself just now. I'm Jacque.".</s> <|message|>Esther Dietrich Esther was no exception from the norm, one of the many (if not all) dazed and curious soldiers to land on the New World. Thanks to the three months' trip, Esther found his estoc to be a surprisingly effective rest for his chin, standing or not. Still, he had a pang of pity for less fortunate travelers. The particularly heavier passengers (in terms of the circumferences of their bellies) had already mixed the scents of their rapidly-scarfed rations with the salty waters; fortunate the latter was much stronger than butyric acid. Whatever still registered into his nostrils was enough cause for pangs of self-pity, too. "Esther," he chimed in, seemingly as though he had came out of nowhere. "Esther Dietrich. Now, I believe there is food to be had...that a-ways, no?" Something was making Esther a bit uncomfortable. His steps were lighter than usual, even with all his equipment on, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It's like his back had no burden to bear, but he was sure he was supposed to be lugging something around... And there was movement in the treeline. Enemy? No, just a guard patrolling. That checked one possible job off the list; unwieldy as he felt, Esther had a fort to orient himself with, and so he panned his eyes over the rest of his group. At least, it would seem. He was trying to pan a view of the entire fort from where he stood, but with an especially massive revenant in the way...</s> <|message|>Zane Kardon Zane stood looking at all the new faces surrounding him, fairly confused at his new-found popularity. One man had seemed to simply appeared next to Agmundr, introducing himself as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. A short and lean elvish woman had begun speaking to Agmundr and a rugged looking man named Jacque had also come before him. 'Do not panic. Do not panic.' Zane cleared his throat with a brief excuse, climbing atop a nearby crate, taking out two of his heavier blacksmithing tools, banging them together with several powerful, precise hits in order to gain the attention of everyone around. "Ahem okay um soldiers here is what we are going to do! Zane attempted to straighten his apron. "I know you are all tired and hungry so I am going to go briefly over what jobs are available around camp and then you can all get some food and set up your bunks before reporting to your individual supervisors! First and foremost, what we need are hunters and fisherman who can help provide the camp with food. Those who are skilled in this area please go to the warehouse for a briefing from your superior." Zane looking up at the sky thinking for a brief moment, before glancing back down at the gathered recruits. "This is obviously an unsustainable action and we will probably starve to death soon, unless someone amongst you knows anything of farming or a useful shamanic magic? If you do please report to the command post outside of Lord Justed's home." Zane coughed slightly, entirely unused to giving orders or being the center of attention. "That being said there are a number of other positions that we always need help fulfilling. The construction team is tasked with both gathering building materials and strengthening the fort walls. As there seems to be a siege of undead at our door soon, it is extremely important that the construction staff have as much help as possible. You can find the construction supervisor next to the ore storage building by the large loads of timber." Zane gestured at each building as best he could. 'Perhaps next time I should bring along some sort of display or stand?' Zane continued, "Those of you with a knowledge of healing or herbs should report to the apothecary for assignment and anyone with suitable abilities in magic should report to the Enchanting and Magical Research building right above the ore storage for supplementary duties. That should be most of the available positions, if any of you have further questions you can ask me during mealtime which is right now. The mess hall is this way." With that duty done, Zane jumped off the crate and began to lead the hungry crowd.</s> <|message|>Iolaire, daughter of Eidheann "Seems like food will have to wait then." Iolaire mumbled to herself. She didn't know mych about farming, but she was a seasoned hunter and knew some schamanistic magic, so she assumed she would have to feed herself if she wanted to eat. Herself, and the rest of the fort. She turned around and started walking towards the Lords home. "I'll go and report to the command post." she called out to the others, "See what I can do about the situation."</s>

<|message|>Agmundr Agmundr winced when Esther more suddenly than not appeared next to him. He had seem him before on the ship, but the way he moved... He himself would've never been able to move around in a way even close to that. The revenant noticed that Esther's eyes were moving back and forth, but before he made a more profound thought about that, he plodded away anyway, the construction supervisor being his destination. Large loads of timber next to a warehouse shouldn't be that hard to find, even without a guide. So he followed Zane as long as he could and then diverted. The hulking undead looked around for anyone to stand close to the location described, but perhaps the guy was inside ? He knocked at the door - perhaps that was considered more polite than just entering. Normally he wouldn't have cared about it, but he was the rookie here and didn't want to take risks that could be avoided easily. However, he got hungry... Hopefully there was anybody among the new recruits that was more adept at hunting, fishing or farming than he was.</s>

<|description|>Leo Wedemire Gender: Male Age: 21 Appearance: Leo stands at 6'0'', Leo is on the taller end of the general public, with a lean athletic build. His skin is a mocha colour and in great condition as Leo uses product on it. His eyes are a darker shade of brown than his skin, while is hair is black in colour. Leo tends to vary up his look quite a bit, trying different haircuts and levels of facial hair. Clothing wise Leo doesn't wear anything too outlandish, mostly black, greys, and whites. He is also not a fan of wearing anything with a big logo on it. Most of his attire is meant to be comfortable and not fancy. Nationality: Jamaican Personality: Leo is a bubbly individual, always seeming happy and fulfilled. This positive attitude makes it easy to be around Leo. As such Leo makes easy friends, but these friendship tend not to last. Perhaps it is a lacking of social skills, but Leo has a hard time maintaining friendships, with a lot of them just lasting when he has a class with someone. This does hint at the hidden layer beneath Leo's bright exterior, one of uncertainty and vulnerability. Leo tends to push away these thoughts as he believes it is better to be happy. Leo seems unaware that others have the same issues that he does. Leo is also voracious when it comes to learning new things. While the primary focus of this is film related, Leo likes to learn about others, gleaning wisdom from their experiences. This means that Leo will never turn down a chance to learn, so he is constantly taking classes, reading articles online, or trying to be around others and get to know them. This may grate on some people as he seems overly interested, wishing that he would respect their boundaries. Soul Powers: * Soul Whip - Leo is able to manifest his soul energy as a bright blue energy whip. The length of the whip is decided on by Leo when he summons it. Using the whip, Leo can ensnare a person or object, creating a tight hold. He can then either pull the whip back to him or pull himself to the end of the whip, effectively working like a grappling hook. * Psychometry - If Leo focuses he can scan memories off of an object by making physical contact with it. Sometimes these memories are as simple as knowing that someone moved the object, to full on memories of how the object was used and what happened around it. The depth of the memories varies from object, with some objects lacking any recent memory. A downside to this ability is that when his hand makes contact with an object, his hand glows blue, alerting others that he is using psychometry. Leo does have the ability to turn of this power for times when it would be beneficial to not scan everything and glow blue. * Soul Hammer - Leo can manifest a giant blue hammer. While it is massive, with the actual head of it being larger than Leo's head, it is weightless in his hands. Due to this lack of weight, Leo is able to swing the hammer with a lot of force. These powerful hits could shatter human bones, or break down most walls. The downside to this weapon is that it gradually increases in weight as he has it out, possibly becoming even more heavy than a regular hammer of its size. But if Leo dismisses his hammer and waits a minute, the next time he summons the hammer it will be weightless again. Skills: Leo has an eye for composition, studying both photography and film making. He is also very knowledgeable when it comes to history, particularly film history. Besides that Leo is in good shape, is a pretty good chef, and has a nice singing voice, having been part of his church choir when he was younger. Personal Belongings: Smart phone, laptop, bag full of school books, flash drives loaded up with movies, high end camera, wallet, headphones, and a blue Moped. Background: Born in Montego Bay, Jamaica, Leo was the middle child of the five Wedemire children. Growing up, Leo always felt out of place as he never really connected with any of his family members. When Leo was just a toddler, his eldest brother left Jamaica to study in the US. Now with his three other remaining siblings in the country, Leo was raised around his parents' grocery store. By the time Leo was five, he could tell any store patrons where to find dasheen, chocho, or yam at the store. Eventually Leo became so good at helping at the store that his parents decided to start paying him a small allowance, believing he would probably just use it to buy sweets. However, Leo would use his newfound income in a different manner. Always a fan of trips to the local cinema with his family, Leo would use his first allowance to go with his older sister to the cinema to see a new movie. Leo would greatly enjoy this experience, so with his next allowance he would go see a movie. Within in a year it pretty much became that Leo would go to see every movie that came to his local cinema. Wanting to watch his favourites again, Leo would begin buying bootleg copies of certain movies from the market. As he re-watched the movies he loved, Leo began to pick up on stylistic things about them, greatly intrigued by what went into film making. Eventually Leo's family began to notice his love for the arts, and decided to encourage it. For his fourteenth birthday, Leo's grandfather gave him an old camera, one he had treasured as a youth. Leo was very appreciative of his family's support, thinking that this was the best. But things got better, as Leo's eldest brother decided to try and help him come to the states for university. While it took some finagling, Leo's studies in Jamaica were recognized in America. Leo immediately applied for as many film schools as he could, but didn't really have any films he made to send over. Most schools decided to pass on the foreign student, but Benjamin Franklin University decided to accept him after reading his entrance essay. Leo immediately packed everything up and moved to Philadelphia. When he started his studies, Leo was living in a terrible small apartment with three roommates, working at a nearby grocery store. But as he progressed with his studies he would find himself in a better situation. A few years into his studies, Leo now works part time at a local TV station, and has found a better apartment. Things were all going right for Leo, that was until he manifested soul powers. Relationships: * Daniel Wedemire - Grandfather * Roger Wedemire - Father * Violet Wedemire - Mother * Hector Wedemire - Older Brother * Lorna Wedemire - Older Sister * Margaret Wedemire - Younger Sister * Robert Wedemire - Younger Brother</s> <|message|>Blake Enders --- Benjamin Franklin University, a prestigious and old university in venerable Philadelphia. Establish just some twenty years after the American Revolution and has been a bastion of learning ever since. Managing to survive unscathed throughout the nation's history from the war of 1812 to the American Civil War. A place that has also managed to unintentionally stay out of the human-demon war that has touched so many places in the world. Up to now, though, as unknowingly to the staff and students of the university. A demon has taken an interest in the old university and stalks its halls while waiting for an opportunity to capture its prize. Meanwhile, the unsuspecting staff and students of the Benjamin Franklin University are continuing their studies, course work, and other academic duties. While enjoying the end of winter and the arrival of sweet spring. The cold weather going away for the most part, and people can enjoy warmer weather. Although for an unsuspecting group of students, today will prove to be an interesting one. For today will be an awakening of sorts to these students that probably would have never had known each other before. But, they will come to rely on each one as their birthright will awaken in them, and these students will be thrusted into the human-demon war. And embark on a journey of what was thought impossible and save a race from demonkind. But, for now, they are just simply students seeking an education while unaware of their shared past and abilities. How these students will handle the power and responsibility of their powers will be seen. That and if they can survive being hunted by demons and save the Sagion from their cruel fate is solely up to them. --- Blake Enders What a lovely day, Blake thought as he looked out a window while sitting in the university library. Sitting in one of the many desks and one of the few ones that were near one of the windows. Wearing his usual attire, a black jacket with a white-collar shirt with black pants. It was about noon, and Blake was just in the middle of doing some homework. Choosing a strategically placed table near a window, and could not help to admire the weather outside. The sun shining bright and the clear skies. A nice warming temperature and a nice breeze. It had the markers of a good day outside. Unfortunately, winter is over, so no more snow but, hey. A nice day does not mean it has to be snowing outside or the ground with the stuff. Still, Blake was having a good day regardless. Just relaxing in the library while doing homework, and he was excited. For an unknown artifact was being brought to the university to be studied, and Blake was selected to help study it. Granted, he would just be an intern/assistant essentially but, it would be the first step towards his dream of being an archeologist. The artifact should be delivered here soon, and Blake could not wait. So in the meantime, he is busying himself with some homework while he waits. However, Blake would end up finishing it to his dismay. With nothing to do now, Blake thought to himself of what to do now. After looking around and back out the window. He thought of reading a book while he waited. He is at the library, after all, there is bound to be a book here that is interesting to him. So Blake put his homework away and grabbed his messenger bag. Placing it on his back, and he went out to search the bookshelves for something to read.</s> <|message|>Ella Blackheart Ella Blackheart Ella walked into the library, her class had just ended. She wanted to be a veterinarian, but she didn't know if she could do it. She was lucky she was even a part of Benjamin Franklin University. After her past, her sad broken past, she hadn't even graduated high school, well only after she took night school she graduated. For her this was a pain, she had nothing better to do so she went to the library she had seen Blake around school but they didn't talk, nor did they have the same classes. Ella noticed the wonderful weather, a day like this would be a gift if she was the old her. However the new her, well couldn't take it as a gift, nobody but the heads of the school and the teachers knew her past. She was wearing her normal outfit a black pair of torn jeans, a black t-shirt, a black pair of knee-high boots that had a slight heel, and a pair of hoop earrings with roses in them. Her hair was falling in waves over her back, her hair was dyed with blue ombre, starting dark blue from the top going down to light blue. Today was going to be an interesting day for her, the archeologists were getting an interesting fossil for them to study. And the Veterinarian section was getting some dead animals for scientific purposes. She knew they weren't in yet as she had just got out of that class but she wasn't ready, she had to be careful. She decided to sit down close to Blake but didn't say anything to him. She opened her textbooks pouring over them while filling out her homework.</s>

<|message|>Leo Wedemire Leo made sure to give himself at least a few minutes outside, taking in the crisp air whenever he had a nice day here on campus. The weather here in Philadelphia was quite different than what he was used to back in Montego Bay. But it was nice, sunny with just a slight chill. So Leo decided to walk around the campus, breathing in the fresh air. He was not alone in doing this as several other students also seemed to be walking or jogging around the university's many buildings. After about twenty minutes Leo felt that he had gone far enough. He noticed that he was near the library and decided to head in. Leo was pleased to find that the library wasn't too full, with plenty of seats still available. While he didn't have any homework from which he could work on here, Leo decided to head to the film section. In the several years that Leo had attended Benjamin Franklin University, he had gone through most of the books they had. While Leo would always prefer a film to a novel, when it came to books on film he could devour them quickly. But like most times Leo checked this section, he found no new items. Of course with the film department, most of their reference material were on DVD or even actual filmstrip. And accessing these resources required permission from the department heads, which always had a large waiting list, so Leo rarely bothered. But Leo did have his backpack on him, and he remembered that he did have a book in it. Leo then headed over to a spot near the window, not too far from Ella, so that he could get some natural light to help him read. Leo then pulled the book out of his bag: a used copy of Make Your Own Damn Movie by Lloyd Kaufman. Leo had only recently gotten into horror movies, and through that discovered the works of Lloyd Kaufman. So he had hunted down a copy of his guide to low budget film making and had just started reading it. Taking out his bookmark, Leo began to read, quickly getting entranced and blocking outside stimuli.</s>